Date: Sept. 11, 2002 Time: 3:08 AM My current mood is: The Story of My ED Part 7: Just the Way Things Are At this time, more specifically the day that my psych. threatened to hosptialize me, I quit my job. Work was becoming increasingly hard for me, I had started having hypoglycemia attacks from lack of food, which means your blood sugar drops really bad and you get very sick(basiclly like the opposite of diabetis). I'd start shaking, feel like I was going to puke, and basicly felt like I was going to die if I didn't get food into me(which is a very real threat, you can die from low blood sugar if you don't eat something). Also, my heart was always pounding now, even if I was just standing still it would suddenly start racing, then get very slow, then go back to normal. So finally I ended up just freaking out and quitting, or more like going home and never coming back. I was still in wonder how my boyfriend Jim could not notice or say anything, more of just a curiosity of how one could not notice their girlfriend has lost 30 pounds very rapidly, and that now my ribs and hip bones were showing. At this point my interest in sex had plumited, as do many peoples who's bodies are in starvation mode(it's a natural occurance). I couldn't stand the thought of him touching me, his hands on my disgusting disproportionate body. One day as we were making out, I realized he wasn't just making out with me, he was doing a bone check. If you've ever had that done to you, then you know what I mean, and that it is definatly obvious when someone is doing that. He then told me I was too thin, and I laughed accusing him that he'd never noticed before, how could he not notice?? He explained that he knew the whole time, and that he was hoping I would stop, but that he got to nervous to say anything. I ended up freaking out, telling him about how I was starving myself, and breaking up with him because I could no longer stand anyone touching my hidious body. Boyfriend number one to be dumped on account of my eating disorder. Since we didn't have a fight or some other anger inducing break up, we still to this day remain friends, though we don't hang out as much anymore. Anyway, getting sick of all the comments and worried looks, I decided to hold off on my goal of 90 pounds for the time being. People were freaking out at me and I knew the shit would hit the fan if I went even lower then I already was. So grudgingly, I decided to maintain at 95 until I no longer got any "too thin" comments. All I wanted was for everyone to just leave me alone. Around this time I was also cutting myself again, which upset me cause I had been trying for years now to stop. My therapist suggested that when I feel like cutting myself, instead to keep a diary, and write out what I'm feeling instead. I was a bit skeptical, I'd never really had a diary and I was WAY too paranoid to start one knowing my dad or sister could "accidentally" find it. That's when I came across the phenominon of online diaries.... perfect I thought, a way to have a diary where my family will never find it! Of course I didn't know what the hell I was going to talk about, or if that writing instead of cutting thing would even work, but I figured it was worth a shot. Hence, the start of this diary. Perhaps I should just add a little summery of things even though it's in the begining of my diary, I mean I've been writing in here for quite some time now. So here's some begining of my diary info: I went back to school for the second time being a 21 year old freshman, and maintaining my weight of 95-96lbs. I ended up getting all A's that semester! I also met John, who I went out with, a guy who I've written many (slightly pathetic)entries on in the past. Somewhere between being just friends with him and going out with him, is when I made myself throw up for the first time. Why? I don't know. I really have no idea. At that point, for the past year I had urges to make myself throw up after eating, but I refused. I didn't want to start that shit too. But finally the urge got so strong, I just had to and nothing could stop me. It took me a couple times to be able to get it to "work", but when it did I felt such a sense of control, a sense of action and reaction. But I was only going to do it once in awhile, "maybe just once more more or something, like incase of an emergancy if I eat too much", you know, the usual denial thing. Sure. Right. At first that's what I did, if I felt like I ate too much that I couldn't bare to keep it down, I'd throw it up, but that was only once or twice a month. I could handle it. It's not like I was bulimic or anything. Then suddenly one week I started throwing up everyday. I had no idea why, my therapist doesn't even know why. Just for some reason BAM! Everyday I started eating and throwing up, and it's been like that ever since. And I couldn't stop, no matter how much I tried. Of course, the throwing up once a day creeped up to 2, 3, 4, up to 5 times a day everyday, and once in a great while even more then that. Sure, I occasionally switch back and forth, from straight out restricting/starving myself, then back again to binging and purging. I'm now 23, there's been other various ups and downs, quit jobs and dumped boyfriends curtasey of my fucked up eating habits, written throughout my diary. And thus ends my story, because, well, you can just read the rest of it in my goddamn diary you lazy fuck! *Wanted to add that I am trying to recover now...hopefully I will not have to edit this out of here, meaning I will be able to stick with recovery, but for now I'm eating normal or something similar to that. The end?? 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