This morning, well afternoon, I woke up at 1:00. I took a shower, waiting for my stomach to start grumbling. It didn't. I wandered downstairs, through the kitchen, to the computer room, and had a little conversation with my dad. Is he mad at me? He's acting kind of bitchy. Whatever. I don't care.
I wandered back to the kitchen, going to make some tea. On my way I passed a box of Gertrude Hawk caramel Smidgens. Death. I said to myself, oh, I'll just have one. I had FOUR. That's 220 WASTED calories! On a day that was supposed to be a fast! I have NO FUCKING CONTROL. I'm going crazy.
Not only that, but after I got a glass of ice water, I grabbed a Godiva bar. I ate almost all of it. Then got disgusted with myself. That's another 150 calories. Fuck fuck fuck. I'm not eating anything else the rest of the day. Fuck. I'm such a fucking failure.
edit:
I love my mom. I really do. Why does she have to come home, come home with food, yummy food like lean sliced turkey, potato chips, milk, and tell me to eat it? Fuck. She knows I don't need the calories. And lately, any and all food has been upsetting my stomach (read, diarrhea. Ew. Too much information? Deal with it.) and I'm sick of curling up in a fetal position on my bed.
I need to get out tomorrow. Maybe I'll go sledding with friends or something like that. Calories burned and totally fun, plus it gets me out of the house and out of the kitchen.
This is why I hate being at home, hate being on break. At least when I'm at school, I'm doing things, not eating constantly.
I was at 169 this morning, but I expect it will go up from three days of eating absolute SHIT.
Sorry for the really long post. I have a lot of feelings.
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