Breakfast?

                                                                                      Mood:Robot

Well I went three complete days without food.
Two days without sleep.
One day without drama.
That's all done now.
Last night I was able to sleep some, a few hours, but that's better than zero hours. I was surprised how quickly the sleep came, I guess my body was ready for it finally. This very cold morning, my husband was up before I was and suggesting breakfast. My daughter was overjoyed and running to the room to fetch a sweater. I was weary.
I thought we would be heading to a little cafeteria for a simple cup of coffee or a donut. Something small and easy to spit into a napkin or hide in my purse.
No, this is what he sprung on me.

Ah IHOP, now how can I say no to that..
You can't. Its impossible with their different flavor syrups, and the hash browns, free diet soda refills, I mean C'mon!
So yes, I broke the fast and ate thousands of calories in one sitting.
Good thing I drank all that water cause those pancakes almost killed me!
We went to a different IHOP, not the usual one by the house, so I was able to purge in the restroom, as much as I could anyways. I hope to never return to that particular one again, one of the waitresses was in the bathroom in the next stall, no doubt overhearing it all. I was on auto pilot and just focusing on the task at hand.
You can kid yourself into thinking no one hears you, they do.
So yes I got the omg looks like I'm a circus attraction from her as I walked back to my booth. He paid the bill and we were gone. The drive in the car is always quiet. The talk at the table was very little. We mostly spoke to our daughter who was very hyper suddenly thanks to the hot chocolate. He was very distant, only commenting now and again about some trivial thing that happened at work. I did what I always do, tune out and then repeat the last thing said, works like a charm. My mind was elsewhere obviously.
117lbs still and now Mia is back.
Returning home and the cold hit me. Its chilly outside sure, but for me now, its even colder. I have a headache and feel lightheaded.
I finished purging whatever was left in me at home and then took supps and jumped on the treadmill to burn off 700 calories. While I did that, my husband got ready to go to work.
I took out meat from the freezer to defrost and said goodbye to him.
I've already indulged and now it continues again and again.
As I'm making dinner, my daughter is coloring. She tells me she's going to paint me a picture to put up on the fridge.
Sure baby you do that..

"Family Portrait"
Lil Miss B.

She painted a picture of out little family, cats included..

How sad it made me.

How triggering.

Its up on the fridge along with her other works of art which I rotate weekly, she loves to color.

It makes me feel bad, like I am tearing the family up, like I am taking her dad away from her. She has no idea what's in store, neither do I for that matter. I hope she can adjust to not having him around, she can forgive me. I hope I can make her understand no one loves her any less, its just sometimes two people do better apart than together. Sometimes trees need to be pruned in order to grow anew. All good very points, still doesn't make me feel any less guitly or better.
I hate crossroads, that's what it feels like now for me. Important decisions to make, lives to change suddenly. Where do I go from here, what do I do..
How to begin again from scratch?
I really hope therapy is the first step. I want to feel like a person again, not this. I don't know what this is?
I don't know who this is?

As for the Ed well, time will tell. Maybe once I'm free of triggers, I can start to say goodbye to this dangerous lifestyle. I hope I can.

I'm tired of crying for no reason, and always putting everyone first and myself last. Some cycles have to be broken, by force if necessary..

              

I feel sad, the b/p feels really shitty. Its an awful cycle, the sadder I feel, the more I look to Mia. The more Mia is around, the worse I feel.

My mouth is dry and I'm really dizzy. My back teeth pulsate intensely and my knuckle is purple and indented with teeth marks.

The acid has burned the side of my cheeks and my fingernails. I've lost count already of the times, hmm I could be up as far as 6?

As if I wasn't feeling like crap already, let's throw my period into the mix.

I'm laxing tonight. Pretty soon too, don't want to keep going all day like this.

I'll be really sick tomorrow, but what other choice is there?

                                                  

Sometimes, I get so consumed by depression that it is hard to believe that the whole world doesn’t stop and suffer with me. –Ditto

Rituals, even unhappy ones, provide a measure of comfort. Like a superstitious ballplayer who will only use certain bats, my depression rituals have become a fixed, normal part of my life. … I need rituals to prevent unnecessarily rocking my already shaky emotional boat. –David Karp

You have lost all delight in life. Ahead is a large array of blind alleys. You are half-deliberately, half-desperately cutting off your grip on creative life. You are becoming a neuter machine. You cannot love, even if you knew how to begin to love. Every thought is a devil, a hell—if you could do a lot of things over again, ah, how differently you would do them! You want to go home, back to the womb. You watch the world bang door after door in your face, numbly, bitterly. You have forgotten the secret you knew, once, ah, once, of being joyous, of laughing, of opening doors. –Sylvia Plath

But depression is not a sudden disaster. It is more like a cancer: At first its tumorous mass is not even noticeable to the careful eye, and then one day—wham!—there is a huge, deadly seven-pound lump lodged in your brain or your stomach or your shoulder blade, and this thing that your own body has produced is actually trying to kill you. Depression is a lot like that: Slowly, over the years, the data will accumulate in your heart and mind, a computer program for total negativity will build into your system, making life feel more and more unbearable. But you won’t even notice it coming on, thinking that it is somehow normal, something about getting older, about turning eight or twelve or turning fifteen, and then one day you realize that your entire life is just awful, not worth living, a horror and a black blot on the white terrain of human existence. One morning you wake up afraid you are going to live. –Elizabeth Wurtzel