Morning Coffee

I didn't get to sleep until four last night. I didn't wake up until ten this morning.
I weighed myself late last night. 197.2
It's slowly coming down.
Not like I would like, though.
Needs to come down faster.
The girl in the picture above has her knees turned inward, creating a bigger gap. It's cut off, so I think she was trying to hide that. You can also tell that her butt is pushed out a little. I don't know why I'm explaining this to you guys.
I have to go eat something. Latuda says to take it with food.
I think I want oatmeal with peaches...and cinnamon. That sounds good.
Much love,
Alex

Dark and Twisty.

Hi, lovelies.
Again, sorry for the lack of picture, I'm on my phone again.
Things are going to get really dark for me for a while. I ran out of Prozac and since there was a mess up with Wal-Mart I have zero money. Things are a little dark with it, but they get real dark without it.
I keep telling myself that today will be the day that I starve. Of course it never is. I need to get my willpower back. My self-esteem is low enough. I need this control. I need to feel hard bones hitting soft mattresses.
Oh, it may be nothing, but there's a lump in my boob. It might be a lymph node, swollen from being sick. It might be cancer. My worries say cancer. Either way, I'm not sure. No one has properly let me worry about it out loud, though, so it still is lingering in the back of my mind. Like all of the time.
I want to be teeny ballerina thin. I don't want to be to the point that people worry. That's when you get caught. I also wanna do lots of yoga and be really flexible. I wanna be able to wear whatever I want. Am I repeating myself?
I saw that a lot of people saw my last post. Thanks a bunches for reading. Feel free to comment too. I don't bite!
My rib cage is deformed. I used to do something called cosplay where you dress up as characters from shows or books. I used to like to dress as guy characters. And the only way I knew how to bind was with ACE wraps. Don't do that. Really bad for you.
Alright, I feel a little better getting to indulge my disorder, and keeping you guys updated. It feels nice to have people who understand.
Much love,
Alex

It's late and I am not alright.

Sorry for the lack of thinspo on this one, princesses. I'm typing this from my phone.
It's two thirty in the morning and I'm slipping.
I want to feel my hip bones, my spine, my rib cage.
Do you want to know something disgusting?
I weight almost 200 pounds.
I'm only 5'5".
What happened to dreams of being 114?
What happened to me?
I feel like I fail at everything right now.
I want to feel the carve of my bones jutting out. I want people to ask what I do to look so good. I just want to lose a little weight. A lottle weight. OK a huge bunch of weight. I want people to text when I want to eat. I want to go back to the roots of my coffee addiction.
I still drink my coffee black. It makes me a little anxious to drink anything in it.
I want people who support my weight loss no matter what path I choose to get there. I want people who understand that sometimes you have to starve yourself to feel whole again.
I feel alone even though I have people who love me because I don't have people who will let me do it. Or who will push me to do the best with it that I can. Maybe I'm just tired.
Maybe I'm just sick of everything being too far to reach. Nothing is in my control anymore.
Love,
Alex

Stress

I am nineteen years old.
Today, I decided that I want to be a Psychiatrist.
To be a Psychiatrist, I have to have almost the same education as a doctor.
I have to have a GPA higher than I have.
When I called my mom for her advice, she told me to work 15 hours a week and to take 12 credit hours (the minimum for full time).
My eating disorder has been biting at the edge of my mind.
Everyone says to keep myself physically and mentally healthy.
My fiancee told me not to vent about my mom to her unless I plan on doing something about.
I've come to the conclusion that my mom is emotionally abusive.
I want a parent that believes in me as much I do.
The one thing I can control is, well, my weight. It's the one thing that I know I've had bring me confidence. And if I can't vent, I internalize.
So here we go again. Pounds and exercise and calories.
Numbers and hours and time. Days and pain.

Hunger

This morning I woke up with an unfamiliar pain. Hunger like I hadn't felt in a long long time. I'm sure it's been building up for a while now. So of course I went downstairs, not even thinking, to take care of it.
I had an instant breakfast with 2% milk and coffee.
I had two of these Ritz cracker sandwiches covered in chocolate that we made last night.
I'm cursing myself. It's only noon and I've already had over 500 calories. I just got up and it's over 500 calories. In one sitting.

I'm so mad at myself. I don't even know anymore how to exercise it off anymore. To make myself feel at least a little better. I still have a little fuzzy feeling in my head. It hurts a little even. I'm still really tired. I don't even know what's going on with life. I know that I have homework I should work on. But I don't really want to. Like all the time.

I get Triggered by such little things

My brain is saying "Starve, Bitch, Starve" because my fiancee told me to quit expressing my stresses because she couldn't handle it. My body says to slip down the slope because of what it does to me physically and mentally. There's money problems in my house right now anyway, so it makes me even more tempted. It would be easy. Not this week, but it could. This week we have tomorrow off, and then it's the weekend. My fiancee will be around too much for all of this. Then Monday will roll around. My fiancee has class all day Mondays and Wednesdays. I only have class at two that day. I could go all day until about five without a bite. I could have all the coffee I wanted. I could have all the water I wanted. I could pretend that it can't hurt me. I can pretend that everything would be great.
Can you believe that I'm a psych student?
I'm also an art student, though.
Maybe that's what's so erratic about me. The artist side.
I can feel myself slipping.

I began to question who I am

and I ended up logging in here.
I began to wonder what it is that I truly liked.
I began to wonder what of me was put there by someone else.
I began to question everything.
I still am.
But I ended up here.
I haven't posted for a while.
I wonder if I'm just supposed to go through and look, see who I'm supposed to be.
Or if I'm supposed to come back full forced.
Who knows.
Love,
Alex