Migraine.

I hate migraines.
I hate them even more when nothing you do eases the pain.
But I guess it's not all that important right now.

Classes start this Monday; considering how badly housing fucked me over, I'll be lucky to get into even two classes this semester.
That's still two classes full of people with whom I really won't converse. Two courses that will be too simple to BS; two rooms in which I won't bother to stand out.
I just can't seem to really connect with anyone--is it my fault I'm not a party person because any group greater than 3 people makes me nervous, or that my world (as small as it is) doesn't revolve around drugs/alcohol, parties, or sex?

Wake up.Go to class.Come home.Stay up until ~3 AM.
That's all I'll be doing the next 4 months.

College is a great place for a lot of people, but for me it's a trigger for depression/heavy binging/obsessions and compulsive behavior/self-destructive behavior/overall great times.

Oh, and my sarcasm levels shoot up around this time as well.

Maybe if I'm lucky I can find a job somewhere to pass the rest of the time that should have been taken up by class...but I don't know what I could possibly find that would allow me to stay out of sight. Everyone seems to want help to work out in front: I can't even manage to sit in the front of a classroom for an hour--what makes them think I would want to be in the front of a store for 4-8?

Took half a month, but I've finally made up my mind.

I've decided to say fuck you to my old friends, and anyone else who just seems to piss me off nowadays. I've made it through my shittiest moments all alone, so I figure I can make my life fantastic whilst going solo.
--
I swear I'm not bragging when I say this (since it rarely happens anyways), but when I actually EAT (not binge) and just happen to write out my intake it usually hits 300-500 without trying. My conclusion is I was meant to be the sort of person who simply has a small appetite. However emotional trauma/COE made me into a massive cow. FML.

I've had ~600 for the day, so I'll water binge the rest of the day. I seem to be ridiculously thirsty anyways.
--
I can't stop fidgeting, can't stop the urge to plan the rest of my week (calorically-speaking), can't get the image of my ideal waist out of my head (creepy but true), and I can't stop listening to...well, 'Can't Stop' by RHCP. Coincidence? I think not.

The drama was pretty simple: Len was leaving, I wanted to see him. I didn't get to; instead he spent his last day with all his closest friends...and my ex-best friend.
Everyone was there except for me. Both of them were my friends and neither cared to call me about it.

IDGAF if he mostly wanted to see me whenever we'd be alone/if he really was just after tail. He was supposed to be my friend and that was beyond assholish.

In other news I'm just a pound away from breaking into the next weight bracket.
There's no food in this house, nor will there be until Friday.
I think we know where this is going.

I've become Tumblr's whore.

I've been away almost a week.
I'm still in the same weight range (not a surprise to me at all).
There's just been ridiculous amounts of drama on my behalf; I'll update this later.

Numb.

I seem to have a growing interest in trance/techno music nowadays. The only thing I can seem to play anymore is something distorted and fluid.

It helps when you don't want to think of anything at all...like shitty friends and an even shittier body.
"Just escape...sleep...nothing else matters, so just drift away."

I dunno what else to say tonight. I asked Len if we were really friends (I know he's awake, he almost never sleeps).

He didn't answer.

I felt pretty horrid, then that fell away into apathy. I knew this moment was coming.
I know I was already in the middle of a fast, but I want to go on water now. 72 hours is the goal.
[.5/72, lol]

Don't need a gun to blow my mind.

39 hours: that's how long I managed. I only lost another .5 a pound at that point.
Two b/p sessions later, and I'm down another pound. I really wish it didn't play with my head like that; it'd be easier to stop.

Eh...in my defense, it was hard going on a bunch of soda. Hell, even water feels better than all carbonation.
I picked up some sweetener for tea/coffee and a bottle of Gatorade--round two starts at 1AM.

[Lost so far: 3.5 pounds.]

EDIT:
I had a body image sketch on my wall for about a month (if you've seen 'Thin,' you'll know what I'm talking about).
My mother took--no, tore it down today.

Personally, I think she should have read it instead of just tossing it away.
I left her a note where it used to be. The jist of it:

"Admit it: I'M FUCKED IN THE HEAD. The sooner you acknowledge this, the sooner everyone can move on. Since I can't see the real me anymore, you've just made it worse. Thanks, ma."

...I love being vindictive, but maybe I'll let her think she has control here. Hmm.

27 hours

Len is in his own little world, hellbent on being around those closest to him as much as possible. After all, he'll be gone tomorrow.

I am not one of these people. Hell, I'm not even allowed to be around when they come-a-knockin'.
I didn't get to see him the past three weeks, and I don't think I'll get to this last night.

I don't know if I care anymore.
~~
Onto other things.

I'm down two pounds [2/??], and 27.5 hours in (30.5%).
I'd be happy...if I weren't five pounds above my lowest...and another 30 above a decent number (for me).

Ah well. Back to my sleepless, caffeine-driven life.

Worn out.

I feel winded after that.
I didn't even bother to rinse. Whore.

I didn't eat that much:
Hot Cheetos
Big Texas Cinammon Roll
Snickers
Soda
Some shit I made with Phyllo dough, cream cheese, green onions, and some other crap..
[Considering I can go to 9000+, this is indeed a light binge.]

I'm just tired now, but I know I won't sleep. Maybe in 2-4 hours.
~~~
I wanted to see Len tonight since he'll be gone soon. He's been with all his other friends the past three weeks, so I felt I'd never get a chance.
Yesterday he said I could if he was home. Tonight he just flat out chose a video game rather than deal with me for an hour or so.

Insert sad/insecure thoughts, and this b/p session.
Still sad. Very much insecure. Not at all sure how to feel better.

Starting the fast in 16 minutes. Goal: 90 hours...for now.

Here again.

It's been so long since I last visited Blogger, it's ridiculous. About a year, I believe.

Since then:
-My nanny died. I almost cried just typing that; I still convince myself she's on a cruise somewhere. It'll be three months passed on the 14th.
-I've lost only a marginal amount of weight.
-I've been officially diagnosed with bulimia nervosa. However, since I was 18 at the time, nothing could be forced on me.
-I've reconnected with a male friend of mine (we'll call him Len), started to crush on him, and have had ups and downs over the past four months of friendship...he's leaving for a town 300 miles away on Saturday.

That's about all I can recall.

Why am I back? That's easy: I read a few blogs on here and figured it'd be easier to keep tabs by following them as opposed to just stalking anonymously. There are probably other reasons but that is the most logical, I suppose.
~~~~~
The past few weeks or so I've been eating semi-regularly and keeping more and more of it down. I'm not gaining at all, but the ED tells me I'm growing rolls of fat.

I've decided I'll start fasting at 3. Why three?
I've got to 'get rid' of the food I planned to eat later today.

Nothing like a good puking session at 2AM :/...sorry, sarcastic moment of the night is done.