5/7/17

4/16/17

So I broke my tooth while wasted beyond all belief on Valentine's Day. Not sure if I mentioned this.
Ever since then, due to the dental procedures involved in fixing my teeth, I haven't been able to make myself sick.

This is literally killing me. Like, I've been making myself throw up multiple times a day (with a few exceptions, like when I stupidly tried "recovery") since I was in my early teens. So to not be able to do that all of a sudden is literally pure torture.

And apparently I don't know how to eat without being able to throw up. So I've gained like 10lbs. Guess who is freaking the fuck out.

I'm terrified.

I don't know what's going to happen to my mental health before May 2, which is when I get my permanent crowns and can hopefully go back to throwing up everything.

Picture Post 4/9/17

Picture Post 3/26/17

Picture Post 3/19/17

Picture Post (3/12/17)

2/19/17 (Picture Post!)

2/12/17

Um.
I don't know what to say right now.
Food is terrifying.
Consuming anything is terrifying.
I decided to taper my prozac and I keep forgetting to take it in the morning. Oops.
Going off the pill is super easy. Which is nice. Except now the boyfriend and I have to use condoms. That would suck, but I can't stand to be touched right now anyway, so it's actually a fantastic excuse to avoid sex altogether.

And yeah, being touched makes me anxious. Triggers a panic attack. I can't handle it. I don't know why. I think I've finally lost my grip on sanity. All I do is hide in the bedroom and read and ignore everything. And go to work when I can drag myself out.

Reposted from MPA (my original post - wanted to save it here for personal reasons)

Okay, I've been bulimic since I was 14. I'm 23 now.

In October 2016, I started taking Prozac to handle my anxiety and bulimia. At first, it was wonderful. I stopped self harming, didn't even want to do it anymore. Then it stopped working. Fine, whatever, I was only on 20mg/day, so my psych told me to wait another month, then we would meet up and go over how things were going. Well, this meeting rolls around and I (honestly) tell her that everything's worse, I can't stop drinking, everything is too much and too overwhelming and I'm more manic than I've ever been before. She goes, okay I'll just up your dose to 30mg/day. And I'm sitting there like, please take me the fuck off this, my bulimia hasn't been this bad since high school.

Alright. I take the 30mg/day for about 2 months. Everything is getting worse and worse and I'm just holding on to when I meet with her again, which was supposed to be this monday (february 6). Except 2 days ago, I decided I was done. I don't need a shitty psychiatrist who doesn't listen to me putting me on medication that is doing more harm than good that I never wanted to try in the first place. So I skip that morning's dose of Prozac. That day, I'm great. Take a few shots of vodka to start off my day, boyfriend gets home from work and I'm practically dancing around, the picture of health and productivity. 

Yesterday, once again, didn't take any Prozac. Except I feel kind of tired and sad. Still have most of my bottle of vodka left so I take like... a few shots? Which turns into about half the bottle. Shit hits the fan. I don't know how I got from fucking around on Tumblr to throwing up in the bathroom. I honestly don't remember much. But my boyfriend gets home around 2, shortly before. And he finds me shaking and crying on the bathroom floor, fingers deep inside my throat. Whenever he tries to pull my fingers out of my mouth, I push him away, threaten to kick him, scream, go back to throwing up. Eventually I'm too tired to even sit up, so I just lay there shaking violently on the bathroom floor, moving my head up a little to throw up. I'm supposed to be at work at 5, so I'm fairly certain I have plenty of time to get this out of my system and be at work as usual.

Nope. Boyfriend goes "babe, it's 4:30, come on, you have to get ready for work soon!" I can't see, sit up, stop shaking. Work is not going to happen. He calls my workplace and tells them I'm really sick, I might be an hour late. I'm about an hour and a half late. After throwing up from 1:30pm to about 6pm. Practically non stop. Throw up again when I get to work, can barely walk, standing is impossible, so I smile, try to hide it, stare at how cut and bruised up my entire hand is from hours of purging. Though by the end of that, my body was just throwing up water (I was trying to stay hydrated) without any help from me, I just couldn't keep anything down.

Come home from work, dizzy, have to clutch the handrail and wall to get up the stairs to my apartment. My boyfriend is incredibly sweet and hugs me, holds me. I go take a shower, admire the bruises on my knees and arms and my fucked up hand. Am I sick now? Sure, I've been purging multiple times a day (on and off) since I was in high school, but that doesn't mean I'm *sick*. Is this proof that there's something wrong with me? Am I finally worthy of care, attention, help? Probably not, but the boyfriend is insisting I get help. I can't blame him. It was selfish of me to put him through that.

This morning, I had breakfast. Half a glass of water and a cup of mixed spinach, peppers, and peas. I kept it down. It felt weird as fuck. It felt wrong. Why would I keep food down? Who the fuck keeps food down? Hell, I throw up tea and diet soda when I haven't eaten that day. I don't like things inside me. 

I don't know why I wrote all this. I don't know if anyone will read this. All I know is I'm terrified and I know I need help and I'm probably going to check out a few psychs in the area tomorrow, try to find one who won't ignore me when I say "this medication I'm on is making me worse than I've ever been before". I don't think I'll recover from my eating disorder. I don't think I have an eating disorder, it's just the way I live. Like, there's no other relationship I could possibly have with food. I've tried, it doesn't stick. I always go back to shoving my fingers down my throat. 

1/29/2017

1/22/17

I don't get people who are pro ana. Who the fuck sits down and says "I want to develop and eating disorder"?

Today I told my boyfriend that I've been making myself throw up 2-3 times a day. Fuck.

I've also decided to go off the pill. I don't give a fuck if my doctor gets piss-y about it. She can suck a dick. I mean, nothing against her, but I'm so tired of all these goddamn pills in my life. Prozac and pain killers and birth control. Can we fucking not.

1/15/17

I've worked 50 hours in the past 2 weeks. This is a lot for me. It feels good but I got a bit obsessive about it and felt like, I needed to work more. Even though I already work more than most of my coworkers.

I got drunk last night (3 beers and 3/4ths of a bottle of wine). So I feel awful today. And my boyfriend's parents are coming up today. I have no excuses for not going out with them. And they always insist on taking us out to eat somewhere. Fuck. I'm terrified.

1/8/2017

I didn't drink last night. That was actually an achievement for me. What in fuck. When did my life turn into this, where not drinking for one night is something to be celebrated?

I lost 1.5lbs since yesterday morning. No idea how that happened. I'm not complaining.

I'm fat as fuck.

I still have periods. What the fuck.

Can the birth control pill force your body to have periods even if it shouldn't?
Nah I'm just fucking fat.

Sorry for swearing so much. I'm just frustrated with life.

1/1/17

12/26/16

I got kicked out of college.

I don't give a fuck.

No one knows.

Not even my boyfriend who I live with.

Or my cat.

I feel like I should be upset about it but I don't care. It means more time to exercise and not eat and be skinny. I'm honestly kind of happy about it, though my mom would be pissed if she found out.

12/18/16

I'm wasted about half the time now.
My psych upped my Prozac to 30mg/day.
Finals were painful.
I'm pretty sure I'm getting expelled after this semester.
I'm also pretty sure I don't give a fuck.
I just want to lose weight.

12/11/16

Got high and drunk today... oops

My boyfriend bought me a pacifier! Super excited

Meeting with my psych tomorrow. Prozac is not working well for me at all and I hope she believes me this time. I'm so done with this shit.

Boyfriend caught me making myself throw up last night. Super oops.

Pictures!

12/4/16

How the fuck is it already December??

Intake is shit. I'm gonna get 2 bags of oranges as soon as I finish my almond milk (I have one single serving box left)

I had 2 beers last night

Boyfriend and I have been fucking way more recently
It's pretty fun