just another day...

so i guess relapses happen.

and i probably shouldn't beat myself up over it.

but it's hard when you spend years fighting something. you think you've made progress or are making progress or are at least taking two steps forward for every one step back, and then suddenly you find yourself ass down in a pile of mud and you're the one you got yourself there.

that's how i've felt these past two weekends. first weekend, i had friends visiting and we had a crazy-party-weekend, and then my little sister and her friend were here this past weekend and we had a fun-girly-touristy-weekend. both brilliantly fun, both followed by the biggest binges ever.

and now all i want to do is smack myself. why can't i do this?

but i had something of a revelation. the whole weekend, i spent with these two young girls who were practically idolizing me. telling me how cool and fun and amazing i am and how awesome my life here is. and i was tempted to believe it. i got home on sunday and was looking in the mirror, trying to find faults. trying my best to find something wrong with me - which isn't hard for me to do. i compared a picture of me from the beginning of the summer (incredibly tan and maybe a few pounds thinner) to how i look now, and how shitty i think i look now. i even showed the pic to my roommate and asked her to tell me that i look pasty and gross without my tan. i was looking for rejection. and i didn't get it.

so i turned to food, because i knew that it would fill that hole in me. i would eat and eat and eat, and then be able to reject myself. it's easy.

i do enough bad things (that i KNOW are bad and that i KNOW will make me hate myself) and i end up getting the rejection i'm looking for. if i hate myself enough, i can avoid having anyone else reject me, because i'll do it preemptively.

pretty fucked up way of looking at things.

oh well. tomorrow i go to therapy again and we'll talk it all out...

the highs and the lows

it's funny how you can feel so amazing. just sitting there, telling myself exactly that. coming home on subway at 5:30 am with some of my best friends, having had an incredible weekend (albeit a bit crazy and completely exhausting) and then it only takes one little tiny thing to bring me down.

on sunday afternoon, i met up with a friend and her sister who just moved to the city. and her sister has got to be a size -4. the girl is tiny. i had been feeling fabulous, and just two or three hours with these girls, comparing myself to this stick, and i go home and i binge. and i eat and eat and eat and eat. and it didn't stop. i went to bed on sunday and got up on monday and continued. i don't even know how much i at over that 24 hour period (not even, more like 16 or 18 hours) but now i feel like shit.

i woke up this morning just wanting to crawl into bed (i still do!) and not have to face the world. it's amazing how much just one little thing like that can screw up an entire day or week.

i finally start therapy today; how à propos. although honestly, i'm feeling so completely resistant at this point, i wish i could put it off another day or 7. i'm really angry at myself. like really really really angry. why did i have to go and fuck up like that??!?!? that's my big question. and it always is: why do i always have to fuck things up?

ok, so i'm being a bit melodramatic right now, but this is how i feel. and now i'm supposed to try and get work done??? right. good luck me.

(hopefully i come back and read this post in an hour and laugh at how shitty i'm feeling now because i won't feel that way anymore!)