Friday, June 25, 2010

I've slacked. Slacked isn't even the right word. I gave up. I always fucking do. I'm slowly trying to ease my way back into starvation. I'm down to eating one meal a day. I don't know how much I weigh. At this point, I don't care; I know its not as low as it could be.

I think part of my problem is motivation - my reasoning for doing this. I mean, there's the obvious factor: thinness. But there's also that control. I have never once started something and finished it til the end. Never. I want that to change & I want this to be that change.

I want it so bad. I can't even explain it. I'm sticking to it this time, no matter what it takes. I'm going to get re-addicted to the feeling of hunger. I'm going to relive the joy of watching the numbers plummet. I'm going to feel that amazing feeling when people beg me to eat again. I'm doing this.

I just got put on anti-depressants, so hopefully I'll be able to blame my "lack of appetite" on my medicine. Or better yet, maybe it really will knock out my appetite. Wouldn't thaaat be amazing?

I want to be boy skinny. I'm a pretty androgynous lesbian & I want to be skinny enough to be mistaken for a boy. That's my goal. 98 pounds. I can do it.

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