Time is an evil thing.

The days are never as long and bleak as they are when you're on a serious diet. It's like those Weight Watchers commercials, with the little orange "Hungry" monster--Hungry is always following you, always tempting you. It gets to the point of torture at times. You can deal with being tired; just drink some caffeine, and solider on until you can finally get some rest. You can deal with fatigue or boredom easily enough. Hungry is different. It eats at you (pardon the pun), bothers you in every way that it can. It makes time stretch out for hundreds of miles, and all of that time is empty. That's the worst part: times stretches out further than you can imagine. Mostly I figure that it's better if I'm not awake for most of it, so I take sleeping pills at 9:00--around now--and am sound asleep by 9:30.

Today, I ate: 1 bowl cereal, measured (150 cals), 1 South Beach fiber bar (120), 1 cup skim milk (40), 1 Lean Cuisine dinner (240), for a Total of 550. Plus 40 mins of power-walking on the treadmill.

This is a lot harder than people make it sound.

Day three back on my unhealthy-but-by-now-normal (since age 16) eating habits. Not going so well. The exercising is difficult, since the elliptical broke and the treadmill kills my knees. Word of advice: never EVER buy exercise equipment from Stamina. Everything they sell breaks in less than 6 months, and their customer service SUCKS.

So yesterday I pigged out at work. They have these delicious coffee cakes in the cafeteria, and they're only 250 calories, so I thought, "why not?" I had intended to punish myself by not eating the South Beach fiber bars and Special K bars that I brought to work. Epic fail. I think I consumed about 1200 calories by the end of the day.

Once you get locked into anorexia--that is, serious anorexia, not the wannabe kind--you're stuck in it forever. You will never eat normal again. At least, you will never have a healthy relationship with food again. Even if you don't mean to, you'll be counting calories, sizing up everything you put in your mouth. You could weigh 60 pounds and be one more ounce away from kidney failure, and you'll still look in the mirror and see fat.

So I figure, what the hell; I may as well give in and go all out, rather than fight it.

Starving is a battle, too, you know. Like REALLY starving. I suppose it has it's good points: I don't drink alcohol, because it's filled with calories; and I never smoke pot because it gives you the munchies (some people have the willpower to fight the munchies, but when you live on 500 cals a day and add marijuana to the equation, you will lose that fight; not eating is hard enough without adding substances that alter your mind). You spend every waking moment of every day STARVING. You're so hungry that "picky" is totally a thing of the past. You would eat anything. You want to eat everything, but you must fight it. You must be thin.

So far today, I ate: 1 bowl cereal (large bowl, 200 cals), 1 Special K bar (90), and some celery and carrot sticks with low fat Russian dressing (approx 150). Total of 440. That means I'm a fat disgusting pig, and can have 2 saltines for dinner.