My pschology books have disappeared and I really need them. Wertheimer, where are you? I need answers! All I can find is my handbook on eclectic psychotherapy and that's not helping because I'm not particularly concerned with my relationship with my non-existent patients ( Read more... )

My aunt is in town from Kansas this week with her two little girls. I look at them and feel a pang of guilt, like I should have maintained that innonence. I wonder what it would take in their lives to turn them into someone like me. Ava, the elder of the two, is eight years old. She lives to play with her barbies and is always running around ( Read more... )

I don't think I can do it. As soon as I start to gain any amount of weight I panic and start trying to lose weight again. I don't want to recover. I want to be thin and pretty and loved.

Maybe if I could just get down to 98 I'd be okay.

Pull the trigger. I can't do it.

Yes, I have an eating disorder ( Read more... )

I'm crashing at an alarmingly fast rate.

I'm cutting a lot. I'm not eating at all. I'm doing stupid, reckless things and making rash decisions. I'm fucking everything up. I'm sabotaging my own life.

I know what I have to do. But I just don't know if I can.

I went to bed at 1. Reawoke at 5. My heart is racing and I'm shaking terribly. I feel terrible for this body. I put it through so much shit ( Read more... )

The old people said something about how little I've been eating. They've noticed that I'm not eating breakfast, and for some reason are assuming that I don't eat lunch, and I'm rarely home to eat dinner with them ( Read more... )

Maybe I lied. Maybe I can't do this ( Read more... )

All I want to do is watch the rain, eat soup, and read about feminism.

I'll elaborate later.