I saw Resident Evil with some friends last night. Got a kid's combo with the small drink and popcorn and candy, it was so cute, came in this little tray. Haha, it was fun. The movie was awesome, and we played in the arcade which was great.

My friend Ned was there, and I was not expecting him to be. We all piled into the car and he made jokes and basically...made the drive fun, along with Ceslie. I could feel the wall between us. It was like I wasn't there most of the time, if I tried to catch his eye he'd look away at his feet and change the subject. I wanted to ask him about Ritilan because I think he may take it and I wanted to know about the side effects but I was way embarassed and I didn't want to upset Danielle. They're very close, and to be honest, they look really good together and get along well. I felt kind of alone, which I definitely wasn't. But on the drive there Tanner and Danielle were touching and poking at each other and flirting and I just felt...invisible to everyone. I know that's selfish of me, I mean, I should for once stop getting so stuck on myself but it still hurts sometimes.

I tried so hard to seem in control and happy there. I think it worked. See, secretly I was falling apart and so close to tears. Maybe it's because I realized on the drive there that I love Ned. I love him. The end.

So I got home, expecting to burst into tears, but I didn't. I couldn't. It wouldn't come. I was home alone so I just....flipped and binged and shoved all the feelings down and then purged them back up and fell into bed and slept until like noon today.

The only people I am really capable of loving right now are Ceslie and Ned. That's the truth, and I've been trying so hard to avoid it for so long. I guess last night it just hit me that guys don't like me. Ned and Tanner were drolling over Dannielle (I don't blame her, she's gorgeous) and I was just there.

I guess I'm just not the type guys go for. I'm a pole, short hair...washboard chest, loud mouth, opinionated, and a little intimidating. I burp and fart with the best of them and I'm just one of the guys who happens to be the proud owner of a vagina and a feminine voice. I don't know, it's not very important anyhow.

I'm thinking of transferring schools. I've got to get out of here, I need to get away from my house and all the food and pressure. Yes, I know that's running away...running away from Ned and Ceslie and recovery. But what else can I do? Sheesh, I can be retarded a lot.

I sent in my application to the Louisiana School of Math, Science, and the Arts. They're supposed to be really well known and respected, and I think I have a shot at their theatre program. I'd have to live in their dorms and I'd be away from home a lot. I haven't told any of my friends yet that I want to do this...I think they'd never forgive me for wanting to leave them. After all, I'm the one who's supposedly so loyal to MACA, and I am...but I need a challenge, I need a change. I need to get away, is what I need.

Right when I get to the conclusion that things are looking up, it seems I go and do something bad. Maybe it's a subconcious thing...a fear of getting better and having to face the problems behind the disorder. But it feels unintentional when it happens, like I have to.

I had breakfast, a bowl of cereal. Threw that up, and made myself another bowl. Threw that up, made another bowl. Threw that up again. I'm too tired to make another bowl or I would, I'm very hungry but the thought of food makes me sick. I can hear my mom's car. Which means I have to go. So yeah...wish me good luck.

Enough feeling sorry for myself! Haha, I need to move on and live life. So college decisions coming up. I can't decide whether I would rather major in Performing Arts or Photography. It's my dream more than anything to act, and it's on stage or in front of a camera that I feel most at home, being someone else. But I have this passion for taking pictures like no other too. More for fun than proffessionally, but I still love it and wouldn't mind taking it to the next level. I don't know yet.

So it's thanks to the kittens that I'm still a sane person. I've considered losing it completely so many times today (yes, missed class again) and just giving up and going away. But then who's going to feed the kittens? They're defenseless and they're hungry and need to be taken care of. So every two hours they serve as this little reminder to me that I'm not the only one who gets affected by my actions.

I think I may be ready to face my teachers and classmates tomorrow. The belly dancing outfits for our shop came in today, I'm really excited about that. I know I must have a million tests tomorrow so I need to study and exercise tonight.

I haven't purged at all today! I've been having just liquids so far today though but still...I just want something that's easy to handle. Mostly I've only had diet soda today, but I did drink like 3/4 of a slimfast shake today too. My mom keeps buying me vitamins and stuff because she's worried.

Last night she asked me what I thought about another visit to the hospital, I said I honestly didn't know. I don't know how that would help, I don't know how it would hurt. I'm basically at a point where it's getting hard to function normally from day to day. I took my Prozac today and everything seems okay. No panic attacks today so far. So far so good.

I'm really in love with the song "Milkdrunk" by Halou right now, I don't know...it seems to embody my issues right now for some unknown reason, it calms me down a bit.

I'm going to (I hope) up my calorie intake in the next couple of days to 500. I don't know how that's going to go over but I figure my body could use it, now I just have to convince my mind too.

Just finished purging, it was terrible and my throat hurts and my head hurts and my chest hurts and the floor is moving. Yesterday I woke up to my little sister sobbing, my mom at her bedside trying to calm her down. At first I thought she was sick or something but then I heard her say something about being afraid for me. "She's worried about you," my mom said later, accusingly.

I'm in this rut. My mom is convinced that I'm being a brat about my situation and that if I could just get over it and try I'd be fine. So I'm sitting here wanting to die, wanting to live, wanting to not feel this hurt of want anymore. I'm tired of being such a needy, stupid person. I feel alone and I want to be left alone. For the first time in forever I'm glad that no one understands. I just want to disappear, I'm so down on myself. I just want to go away.

My Prozac dosage has been doubled again. Woope. I want it to work but I feel like it won't. I don't want to think about tomorrow, I don't want to think about food or my friends whose calls I have to ignore right now so I don't break down and let them find out that I'm really not okay. I'm failing my classes. I have nothing because I've ruined everything for myself.

So my doctor is increasing my Prozac dosage yet again, we'll try to two weeks, then I'll report back and if it's not working better than he's going to incooporate a little uh...Ritillan, I'm not sure if I'm spelling that right. But whatever. I'm anxious about this because I'm tired of being a lab rat and taking all these different pills only to go back and say "it's getting worse" or "it's not doing a thing".

I would say, screw the medication, I don't need this. But, no, I really do. I've tried going a year without it and it's screwed me over way worse than taking medication has. I'm not going to stick with my diet pills and yet refuse anti-depressents. That's just plain stupid.

So much has happened since I last wrote. Let's see...I went out for coffee with a friend, blew up at her sobbing and crying about Ned and food and how I just felt so fat. She was awesome about it as always and hugged me which suprised me for some reason. Her and Ned are the most important people in my life, I don't know what I'd do without them, honestly.

I woke up and had lost weight, got happy about that. Had a really stressful morning with my mom and sister, I missed my bus. Went home and binged and collapsed into bed. Refused to get up. Ended up getting up anyway and going to school.

So I did a speech on myself to my theatre class that day (yesterday) and ended up sharing way more about this eatiing disorder stuff than I wished I had. I'm terrified. Went home and binged at like midnight and went back to sleep. Woke up at noon today and missed school. I fed the kittens with my mom, she's taking me to the doctor in an hour to see about my anti-depressants which still don't seem to be helping.

So that's how my past two days have been. Kind of uneventful.
It's getting old, I just want to sleep.

Didn't have breakfast or lunch today, so of course I came home, stuffed my face and then purged everything. I am really dizzy right now, but other than that I feel okay. I'm about to go out with a friend for coffee. I'm torn, I want someone to be with me and help me feel normal. But at the same time, I want someone to grab my shoulders and tell me that everything is not okay or normal and that I need help.

I don't really know. I'm going to exercise tonight even though I feel like crap because if I don't I feel like I'll be setting myself up for a panic attack. I would be having a session with my therapist tomorrow but my mom cancelled that after okaying it with me. No more therapist or dietician. Whatever.

I had this strange feeling this morning that everything would be okay and that I was normal and it would all work out. It's been shattered but I can't help but wonder how I can get that feeling back.

Dealt with a lot of guilty feelings today. I guess I ate normally, I don't know. I ate a lot at lunch time so yeah. Last night I was debating the whole suicide issue, it didn't take much to talk myself out of it though. The only thing is, the main thing that caused me to wait, give life time, was the prospect of losing weight still. I've maintained my weight for almost a week now. I guess that should  be something to be proud of. So why do I feel so sad?

In theatre we're supposed to write a speech and make a collage about who we are. Who am I? Who am I? I don't know, it's due tomorrow and I haven't even started, I guess I should get working on that. I guess that scares me, looking at myself, wondering who I am. That is a frightening prospect when all you've become is a disease, a self destructive force.

We found kittens under our house, barely two weeks old and abondoned. As I hold them in my hands I feel this unconsolable sadness because they are alive and they stayed alive. Through the rainstorms these past few days, through losing their mother, they stayed alive and made it. I wonder if they deserve it more than I.

Purged. Exercised for a couple hours. I can barely breathe and feel disgusted. I need to get out of this place, I need to go somewhere where there's no food and there's no pain and there's no such thing as fat or thin. I'm so tired of mirrors and feelings and people. I feel like the inside of me is this big gaping wound and everything and everyone is just shoveling salt on me and walking on by. I feel like my body is red and screaming and no one can hear me, no one can tell. Even I won't acknowledge this hurt.

I want to act, and I want to be happy. I want to love someone whether they love me back or not is trivial. I just want to care about something other than myself, I forgot what that feels like. I want to spend my time thinking about love and theatre and not when my next meal will be.

I so desperately need a hug but I'm afraid to let anyone touch me, they'll feel my bones, they'll feel my fat. It's all black and white but so complicated. I am watching myself live, actually...I'm watching myself exist in this mess. Why do I do this, and why can't I stop? Why do I not even really want to stop?

Can anybody love this? Can anybody love this mess? I have nothing because I refuse to open my eyes and live.

I just had an apple, and I'm mulling over my thoughts right now. Last night my mom told me that she couldn't afford to let me keep seeing my dietitian and specialist. She offered to find some other way for me to see someone. I told her that was okay, and I didn't want to. She started arguing with me about how I can just see nobody because I am sick and I have a problem. I told her that I didn't and she shook her head and said that getting me help wouldn't work if I didn't want it anyway, so okay.

I don't know...I'm calming down now that I don't have all these people to report to and all these rules to follow, I feel more in control. But it's a scary feeling, to know that everyone's just releasing you back into the world on your own again. I don't know what to do with myself.