Feeling down & bridal show picture

"When you try your best but you don't succeed, when you get what you want but not what you need, when you feel so tired but you can't sleep, stuck in reverse." 

- Coldplay, "Fix You"

I started an outpatient program last Wednesday. It's six hours a day, Monday through Friday, and I absolutely despise it. First things first, I arrive and strip my clothes, trading them in for a mustard yellow see through gown. The scratchy net-like material hangs on my stupid body as I turn around and take that blind step backwards onto The Scale. There's not much I hate more than this ritual. It's not fair that they get to know The Numbers and I don't. I feel like it's this life-changing secret I'm missing out on.

So after day two, I get home and dig through the cabinet under the kitchen sink. I put it here almost 7 weeks ago. My heart pounds a little harder as I bring it into the bathroom, by habit getting eye level with the floor to make sure all four corners are sitting equally on the tile. Adrenaline pumping I take off my clothes until I'm down to my bra and underwear, and take that awful step onto the square, looking forward. Deep breath, look down. My heart drops, my stomach flips, tears burn my eyes. "Oh my god" I say over and over again. I hated myself after that, I hate myself now. Program today was a waste.

I can't handle knowing my body occupies The Numbers revealed on the scale last night. I just can't. Every bite brings my attention to the digits, and The Numbers escalate with every swallow. I lost three or four pounds in two days and the dietician is already on my case. It's a horrible feeling to be there and have a team putting effort into me and secretly be working against them. Against myself. I'm so incredibly down about the whole situation.

They yelled at me for cutting my food into pieces. I have to take a buddy to use the bathroom. 

I don't know what I want, I don't know what I need. I need to lose weight, but I need to recover; I need to count calories, but I need to lead a normal life. I want to get well, but I want to get rid of just two more pounds first. Maybe five. Maybe twenty. I'm so confused and drained :( Useless.

Here's a photo from a bridal fashion show I was in last week. Got to wear Vera Wang's newest dress, I loved it.

Hugs xo 

Purge purge purge

I felt myself losing control that very first week. 

No workouts. No trainer. I couldn't even choose my intake. The guilt was building and growing and becoming stronger than me. Rice, butter, juice... that meal was enough to make me sad but not enough to make me hate myself, not enough to act on it. Then the group went to get ice cream. 'Nope, not doing it' I told myself, and sat at a table by myself to wait for the group. Lexi begs me to get it with her so she doesn't feel guilty. She has no idea how different our Guilts are going to be. I cave, I get a scoop of Dulce de Leche, I hate every bite of it. 

Maybe it was the ice cream that triggered me. I love purging ice cream... it's effortless, and it tastes the same going in as it does coming up. After two bites, the Whisper that's constantly in the back of my head spoke up. Purge it. Lose it. Get it out. Gigantic. Fat. And that other person inside of me that was dormant for almost two months took over. I grabbed my water bottle out of my backpack as we walked back and chugged it, lukewarm, the only thing that mattered at that moment. I nervously sat down and waited for others to use the bathroom first so I could take my time. Like a zombie, all I can do before a purge is stare and count calories and hate myself. I can't focus on anything else, and I definitely can't take it back.

That was week one of the trip. 

Purging continued from there maybe 2 or 3 times a week. By week four and five, it was every other day. Now, it's every day. If not more. I just ate two cookies for breakfast and before even touching them to my tongue I knew I'd be purging them up shortly after. This is what I despise more than anything: eating with intention to purge. Because then, it's not an accident you didn't see coming. It's an accident you're approaching head on, full speed, with your lights on. 

Home now and struggling. Much love xo