I got to a scale. Oh fuck. OH MY FUCKING GOD. I'm disgusting. 128.4lbs. Can I shoot myself now? Please? Oh fuck....
I'm turning 17 on Tuesday. I'll be a fucking fat pig on my birthday. Oh fuck. I need to lose weight right fucking now. Mom wasn't home this morning so I had 1/3 of a cup of coffee. Black, of course. I can't eat today. Oh fuck. I need to be thin. I need to be human.
Then I need to disappear.
Make everything go away.
I won't be a bad person anymore if I'm thin.
I'm glad no one reads this blog. I would be a horrible disappointment to them if they did. Thankfully, I'm only disappointing myself and the people around me, not the lovely pro-ana world.
Oh... I should probably mention this now. When I say pro-ana/mia, I mean the whole support thing, not those wannarexics and fauxlimics. Anyone who wants an eating disorder is a fucking IDIOT.
I'm going to go take some ibuprofen (or something else... should probably raid the meds cabinet and see what other interesting stuff we have in there) and cut or something.