You know you've got a problem when your solution for an anxiety attack is to take 5 laxatives.

Sometimes I wonder if maybe I was just meant to be fat. I do awesome for days, sometimes weeks, and then one day I just suddenly find myself eating everything that isn't nailed down. And I can't stop!!! It's like the conscious part of my brain just drops dead and the unconscious kicks in. I go on epic binges - giant bowl of cereal with sugar and 2% milk, caramel Frappes from McDonalds, huge tubs of popcorn covered in butter and salt, a half rack of ribs bathing in barbecue sauce with fried onions and French fries, Cadbury buttons with peanut butter right out of the jar, and top it all off with a box of South Beach fiber bars (s'mores flavored).

And then afterwards, when I am in fat-ass-super-full-tummy stupor, my conscious mind decides to wake up.

How could I NOT take a bunch of Ex-Lax??? I can't make myself puke. I've never been able to do that. I could stick my whole fist down my throat; I still won't vomit. But I must get rid of it. I can't live with that kind of shame coursing through my digestive system, filling me up with lardy fat and turning the blood in my veins to greasy sludge. I don't care how much pain I'll be in come morning.

And then I feel like a weakling. A sissy. An out of control fat ass. A stronger person could just say no. A stronger person would have the will to resist. A stronger person would be thin.

Weird Dream I Had Last Night:

This is the first food/ana dream I’ve had that didn’t involve me stuffing my face and then panicking.

So I’m sitting at this sort of outdoor café thing with a friend (friend keeps changing between people I know and people I don’t). Friend is eating and telling me I really should eat, and I refuse. As I’m sitting there, I’m getting thinner and thinner to the point that I’m pretty well emaciated, and I’m absolutely thrilled about it.

I decide to go for a walk, and I run into myself, only it’s me at age 19 (judging from the purple hair and funky hairstyle). Real-Life me is back up to 108 lbs., while 19-Y-O me is cancer-patient-skinny (which is inaccurate, I was like 120 at 19). I get pissed off and Friend is back telling me if I don’t eat, I’m going to die and then I get this stabbing pain in my side, which wakes me up and I’m pretty sure it hurt in real life, but I can’t remember.