Realization

And it couldn't have come at a worse time. Right before finals.

Having an eating disorder has had huge costs in my life. Well, duh! right? Well, yes, I always had a sense that it was physically dangerous and a little, a lot insane, but I never really thought it would prevent me from doing what I wanted to do in the future.

But it has. I relapsed hard this past semester. And the binging and purging and starving was time consuming. As a result, I couldn't study and I didn't study. And what was supposed to be the term that was going to turn around my career. Last year was rough, I was slipping and really depressed so I wanted to make up for it before going to apply to a Ph.D. program. Instead, I didn't make up for it; I am doing even worse. But as I am right now, I have no hope of a Ph.D. program.

And I would like to think that if I get it together, I could do whatever I want to. But guess what, I don't think that is realistic. Whatever I do now, I am still an unlikely candidate for a Ph.D. program. Which makes me very depressed. Like how can I not acknowledge that I have failed and I don't know what to do with that besides engage in my favorite coping tools-b/p and SI. . .

What do I do?

It is disturbingly cold here in BG and I am trying to make preparations for next semester and the summer. But doing so is rather difficult. Will the hospital come through? If not, what should I do next? Do I want to go get the horse job and finish my degree MIA? Will I get into a Ph.D. program? If I do, should I go? If I get into Oxford or hired at the Bank of England, how do I find the money to take Sky with me? What would I do with UP? How could I leave him so far away? And what do I do with all the relationships I have developed?

I hate food. It's not that I am afraid of it, or even that I find it evil or dangerous. I just don't like it; it is a little disgusting to me. Why? Seems quite an evolutionary failure.

I am as afraid of success as I am of failure.

I know the eating disorder is horrible. But it is very hard for me to believe it.

FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT. . . A FUCKING WHALE.

And talk about insanity. Despite the fact that the diet pills give me a huge headache by the end of the day, I'm going to take them and wash them down with Diet Coke.

Yay!

Ready. . . Inner monologue

Bitch. Fat Slovenly Bitch. You are controlled and insane about food. You need it. It makes you fat. It eats you alive. You are the one who is supposed to be so smart and so full of potential. And here you are you wich. You horrible, fat, ugly person. Person, too nice for you. Creature, slave, slave to food. You are such a stupid, horrible person and you cannot figure out how to function as a normal healthy person. No you are crazy. Insane. Lazy. Horrible. Stupid. Ugly. FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT. OBESE OBESE OBESE OBESE OBESE BITCH BITCH BITCH BITCH DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE

Any questions?

What does it mean???

What does it mean when you know one thing and do the other???
What does it mean when you do and do not want to do something at the same time????

What can be a more apropos definition of insanity than the above???

Life

Get on the scale, get off the scale, get on the scale, restrict, restrict, good girl, binge, purge, binge, purge, cut, get on the scale, get off the scale. Stare at the pills. Insomnia, can't get out of bed, start all over.

One of my pet beliefs

I honestly believe that if I am organized enough, thin enough, controlled enough, clean enough, scheduled enough that everything will fall into place. Everything will be easy.

So much for rationality?