I am unworthy of you 12 followers.

I keep disappearing and I'm pretty sure I'm as fat as I was during the summer. time to crack down, eh? Yeah, I've been thinking about those messages from last October from J.R. that always, always make me realize I'm an ugly little brat on the inside and the outside. Maybe if I change the outside, shrink her down, the inside will become better too? Maybe. Doubt it. Tomorrow, even though it's Monday and, seriously, I probably shouldn't go with only liquids on Mondays, I'm gonna. Swear it to you and myself and this time I just cannot let my pride be hurt again.
Did I tell you guys that I've gone vegetarian? Yep, had a daydream-nightmare-thing and now I can't even think about eating meat without remembering it. It was this dragon thing biting my throat out. And I mentally link that to eating meat...go figure.
I thought I was getting better, I really honestly did. And then I started wearing rubber bands around my wrist and kept snapping them over and over, enjoying the pain. And this weekend, since I slept 12 hour each day, woke up starved and didn't want to do a thing about it. I think outside of a meal, I only ate once and only had two meals.
Mentally, I've been cussing more. None of it's come out of my mouth, though. I'll think things like "That chick's such a bitch. Wait, did I really think that?" or "Wow, I'm such a fatass who needs to get off her fat ass and MOVE!!" See? Lots of mental cussing. I'll try to not post it on here, though, because I honestly feel that it'll make my blog less appealing. I honestly think I'm back in a downward spiral and that's why I'm mentally cussing and mentally NEEDING to feel that pain of the rubber bands and the pains of being hungry. Honestly, if I lived alone, I think I wouldn't be eating at all until I broke down and totally binged and then, well, then I think I would go against one of my mental rules and purge. Luckily, I don't live alone and these walls are thin.
Now, I'm getting caught up on you guys' blogs. And right now I'm reading Miss Rachael's blog. 135.4!? Seriously!? I REALLY need to get my fat butt moving!! I'm such a fatty! I remember when I was almost that weight! I was so proud! And now I get to be proud of you and mad at me.
And I've also been thinking about secrets I keep close to me. I wanted to post one on six billion secrets, but I'm too scared to even do it there. I wanted to say something about how I got messages over facebook from someone I thought was a friend that destroyed my already fragile world and that I'm left alone now to rebuild it. I wanted to say "Daddy, how could I NOT hate my body, want to starve myself when for about five years you told me that I was too fat, needed to skip a meal, or to puke up a meal? How can you not see that every time you tell me I'm going to go puke, I have a mental battle?" I've never purged, but I've come close. I've wanted to. Because I'm a broken child who wants her mentally fucked up daddy to love her and to show that he cares. I want to be able to hug my daddy without being at all scared that he's gonna hit my back hard enough for it to hurt. Another thing I want you guys to know is that in the past, I wanted to attempt suicide. Not so I'd die, but so I would land in the hospital. I wanted to know how many people honestly cared enough to come see me or to leave flowers. Gosh, this whole, like, paragraph had me crying. Though I guess that's better than slicing myself open which I don't think I've done for four or five weeks, though I might be wrong because I still have a diamond shaped scar on my thigh that looks kinda new.
Really, I need to get off, but I don't wanna. I wanna think of more secrets I can tell you guys because you pretend (at least) to care. I feel like I can say whatever and either I get no comments or I get positive comments. Sorry for making my dad sound really bad. He has a personality disorder, which I don't really know what it means, but it apparently explains the way he acts. I really do love my dad which I sometimes wish I didn't because I think it would hurt less. Heck, I love both my parents and I don't wanna disappoint them and I feel like I need to be perfect for them and I never will be. Please don't think badly of them, because I don't.
Haha, found out the hard way that reading about people cutting makes me want to. I haven't done it yet, but it's hitting me harder than hunger EVER has. It's like, BEGGING me to go get my razors and rip into my almost healed skin. Gosh, this is insane. I don't really know how to describe this HUGE desire to just get my current razors- no, new sharper, less awkward razors- and cut. Or take these dull scissors I have and use them to cut open my wrists, considering they leave less of a noticeable marking. Deep breath, calm down, no cutting. Not tonight. Tonight, I am free. Tonight, I WILL NOT give myself chains that weigh me down. And soon, I'm gonna go to bed. Tomorrow, I'll skip breakfast, lunch, and find a way to get rid of dinner. I'll get on here and happily tell you guys that other than coke zero, water, and flavored water (and maybe an energy drink) that I'm empty. Then, I'll either kill time or go to bed. The next day might be the same way. Because I'm sick of living "normally" this sounds as pleasing as it sounds unpleasing. Already my stomach hurts from tomorrow's pains. And yet, I already feel excited to start fresh tomorrow and not eat. Tomorrow is Monday, an all liquids' day, a day for clarity and hunger. And yet another day of wishing my hipbones stood out more and that my tummy was flatter.
I'm gonna go to bed now that I've given you a SUPER long post.