Counting down to my mental detonation. Everything got really fucked.
I broke up with Johnny two days after my last post. I feel like my own apprehension ruined it before anything else could. I was just so scared of watching another relationship fall apart, I wasn't even willing to put the effort into building it up. I watched the confusion and heartbreak on his face as I tried to explain (make excuses) that I couldn't do it. That he was a great guy (and I'm an out of control fuck-up) and I'm not trying to hurt him (just myself) and that I'm really sorry (but deep down I'm not sorry) and yeah...then he rolled a joint and we lit up. I went home after a day of successfully not eating and binged, hating myself. I passed out on the couch watching TV, only to wake up at 4:00 am feeling like I had a rock in my stomach. I burst into tears and popped laxatives, trying to get rid of my shame. I spent nearly all of the next day lying in bed between trips to the bathroom.
Yesterday I managed to not eat until 7:00 pm when I caved and went to Taco Bell with friends from the college. Why the fuck do I pick junk food? I don't know, but it's a bitch. Every time. Today I had some fruit when I got home.
Goals are in order. I need numbers and stats to keep me on track. So, back to the old routine! I'm reposting my stats because I went to the doctor and found out that I am taller than I was 2 years ago when I started the blog. Happy face :)
CW: 145 lbs | BMI 21.4
Sept 1: 140 lbs | BMI 20.7
Sept 10: 138 lbs | BMI 20.4
Sept 20: 130 lbs | BMI 19.2
Oct 1: 125 lbs | BMI 18.5
Oct 10: 120 lbs | BMI 17.7 (UGW for now!)
Right now I feel like Ana is the only thing I have to live for. The only thing that I can keep track of, the only thing I can control. How many times have I said that before? I know I must sound like a broken record, but we're all broken in some way, my lovely Anas.
We'll survive it.