I’m so angry...just so angry. I binged and purged twice today..... And I hate doing it, I just want to escape all the pain and all the FEELINGS that I’m starting to feel. The worst part is that I know im’ doing what I’m doing, but I choose to do it anyway. FUCK IT ALL. It feels so weird... Like, I’m angry, but at the same time, I’m not. My mind is angry, but my body doesn’t feel it. Usually, when I’m not ‘high’ off of my builmia, my body feels the anger. Thats what happened today...and that what I’m so afraid of. I binge and purge so I don’t have to deal with feelings. So I don’t have to FEEL the pain because I didn’t have the parents I wanted to have... so yeah, so I thought I was through dealing with that, well I’m FUCKING not. I’m so numb. It’s comfortable being numb though. It’s very comfortable. It’s how I survive. But...I don’t HAVE to survive like that anymore! It doesn’t kill me to feel pain and intense anger... Although I fear it will. But I know the truth. I have done this before...I have felt the pain and anger...I have felt the shame and the loneliness... How am I ever supposed to do therapy without binging and purging? It brings up so many feelings in me... Feelings that I don’t want to feel. Oh how I wish I was back in treatment... where I could TALK about my feelings without weighing anyone down. The people there knew how to set boundaries...if I even started talking about anything I’m thinking or feeling to my sister or Bethany, it would bother them all day.

I feel like I have nothing anymore. I thought about my future today...where I am going in this crazy mixed up life. I know for sure that I don’t want to die...that dying from builmia is not in God’s plan for me. But right now, I’m not really living either. I cried today, and that scared me too. It meant I was starting to FEEL something... After five days from since I binged and purged last... the high lasted five days... I wonder how long this one’s going to last.

I don’t know who I am. I hate thinking about it...

It’s ME I hate! I hate myself... I think that I AM A MISTAKE! I don’t know where I got these messages, but they’re there. I’ve been telling myself for the past year and two months that I am not a mistake and that God created me for a purpose... But when I look at myself in a mirror I am reminded, just like a cold slap from someone I love, that I’m ugly and worthless.

I want to cry now... But that means that I can feel. And I defiantly don’t want to feel. I just want to RUN AWAY... It was everything I could do not to run away during my session with Amanda today. She is so real and so loving... and although she is just learning what she’s doing, she does a stinkin’ good job of being your witness and your instrument.

God, why is it that I know all of this stuff in my head...but I refuse to accept your power? You don’t want me here! You want me DOING things for you...not stuck up in my own sins!!! I need to find someone who can help me...someone who can be an accountability partner to me...someone I can cry on and talk to every single day... I NEED THAT, I know I need that, God I just can’t do it on my own anymore!!!!! I try so hard...but I keep falling down!!! I need help! Please, bring me help!!! Have it knock at my door! I will go out and look for it.

Do I want this? Do I want recovery? I don’t know what I want. I want YOU God....you are the cry of my heart! I know this full well!!! YOU are the cry of my heart! I need you more than I need anything else! That something else that happened today...I listened to my heart. I’m so scared of having desire...of experiencing real PASSION. Maybe Thats part of what all of this is about as well. That my PASSION in my heart...the LONGING for something more...is just so strong and so overpowering... If I let it run wild...I just don’t know what would happen. (I want to cut myself...I want to bang my head on the wall... I want to dig my nails into my mosquito bites until they stop itching... I want to pick at the zits on my face)

In my family, I was taught not to have desire. They are a dry people...a desire less people. They don’t have hobbies, they don’t get excited about things. But that just not who I am. I get excited...I love life (when I’m actually living it... when I allow myself to be free from the clutches Satan currently has over me through builmia) and GOSH, I wish I had friends to talk to about this. I wish I had someone to talk to. Mind you, I’m not feeling sorry for myself or wallowing in self pity. I think I’m just missing what I had in the past. But, as always happens, I was hurt in the past when I either left my friends or when they left me. The hurts are still there...living rent free in my head. I get hurt easily. I make myself vulnerable to other people.

Yes. I believe that something is wrong with me. Because I can’t do therapy...because I never know the ‘right’ answers, because when they ask me what I’m thinking or what I’m feeling I really DO NOT KNOW. I want to cry!!! But I can’t!!! Fuck it all.

God- you want me to live for you. You want me to DO AWAY with all this builmia SHIT so I can fully follow you. That what you want from me... You want my soul, my heart.

Screw it all. I know what I need to do, but I don’t do it. I hide in your grace. I want to cuss and cuss and cuss until kingdom come. I’m so frustrated. But then again, it won’t really be real frustration. Or maybe it’s real inside....I just cover it up. When I talk to other people, I will be happy. I will be myself. “Myself” is who I am with my builmia. I have lost myself... my identity... WHO AM I??? Who did God create me to be? I’m 18 and I’m still 13 inside. Fuck fuck fuck.

My counselor today told me that I was neither fat nor thin. That I was perfect and beautiful. I hate the fact that I’m neither. To me, that means that I am nothing. (Even though YOU see me as beautiful God... I am a SOUL in your eyes, not a body) But That exactly what I want to be. I want to be nothing. I’m ashamed of living... ashamed of being alive and of possessing something of my own... of possessing a body to live in. I don’t think I deserve it. And I certainly don’t think I should OWN something. Isn’t that selfish? To own something... to have something all to myself? But That the way it is. I want to melt away.. I don’t want to have a body...I just don’t want to BE. I want to be invisible.

I’m thinking the way I used to think when I was in junior high. I wished with all my mind and with all my strength that I could just disappear...that I wouldn’t have to deal with people at school, my parents and their unreachable demands for me... and with myself.

That what this comes down to.

I don’t want to deal with MYSELF.

I have a problem with me, and I don’t have enough balls to duke it out.

I’m simply not enough for me. I’m not enough. I don’t live up to my own expectations...but I keep pushing myself, pushing, pushing, pushing to live up to them. To be someone I want myself to be, rather than who I am.

With every painful, moldy rock I overturn, I find just another reason, buried deep in the mud, to hate myself.

What’s real anyway? I stare at the ceiling and try to make sense of the plaster formations. That’s how I think of my life. I think ti’s just a bunch of pieces that all look the same...thrown together, shapeless and formless...waiting to be formed into something worthwhile. Will I ever be that thing? At the same time...I so desire to be something real, something good, something worth something. But I’m so scared too. Because that will mean that I will have to give up everything my life has been based on to this point... I will have to give up bulimia...give up focusing on myself...give up the refuge I have of feeling sorry for myself and sulking in my room once or twice a month. I will have to give up so many things. But, rationally, I can see that it’s worth it. It would definitely be worth it. I mean, I’m losing what... DEATH? Spiritual numbness? I’m losing all of that... And I have the chance to go on the most incredible journey of my life! So why don’t I take it?

The mirror keeps mocking me.

I look in it...

Even when I close my eyes I see my face. I open the back up again because I simply can’t stand the sight.