I can, for the most part, turn these types of foods down, because they are gross, and I feel like the largest woman alive while eating them, but there are also times when I simply cannot stop myself. And it kills me, because I cannot excel in anything else, I cannot win at anything … and I can’t even prove to myself that I can give up food to lose weight. I see food as excess gross shit that shouldn’t be made consisting of so much fat and many calories.
Also at the beginning of this year, my junior year in high school, I began to write a journal of my own thoughts and used it as a way to express myself and get my secrets out to someone (kind of). I wrote a lot in it, whenever I got extremely angry at myself for eating, and feeling regret, guilt, and shame, or making notes of ways to help myself win. For example, on December 13th, I wrote:
“Despite today’s exciting school cancellation, I still feel terrible about myself. It’s been harder for me to resist temptation lately and I ate a gross slice of pizza today and some snacks earlier. I wish I could just stop easily and not eat. I wish I’d realize that the feeling that comes after eating is not worth actually consuming the shit that I do. I seriously hate me and I hate food. Last week to two weeks ago were great! I didn’t eat much, so I didn’t have to hide behind clothes or behind people or layers like I’ve been so used to doing. I don’t want that feeling of isolation to ever come back. I like being able to be around people and feel a little teeny bit better about myself.”
And, on the same day, only later:
“The only thing that could make me feel content at the moment would be losing twenty or more pounds. I’m about ready to grab my Nike’s and run to a different country. Oh hell even that wouldn’t save me. All the sit-ups in the world couldn’t save me. I want to pull through this.”
