Who are you?

I really want to write an informative and organized post... but my brain is not functioning today. Sorry. Wednesday was a good negative intake day, and I tried to replicate it yesterday. Fail. I did well all day... with the husband, with the family... then I get home and munch munch munch... 300 calories in one sitting. Ugh what a fatass I am. Not much weight gain, but I'm still at 165. In six days I need to be at 159. If I can not achieve this then I might as well go ahead and kill myself right now, because I'll never succeed at anything in life.

The other day I saw an old friend (boyfriend?) for the first time in like, maybe four or five years. He knew me in my super-fat days... and here I stand, dozens and dozens of pounds lighter... "Wow, you look healthy." A normal person would have been overjoyed at the compliment. But me... haha. I'm just thinking the whole time, I should be skinny. I should be beautiful. I should be heartbreakingly gorgeous. Nope - just healthy. Easier than I used to be on the eyes, but nowhere near close enough to being a treasured jewel. And in this moment of shame, I hated myself with the maximum of my hate potential. I still am.

There is no fucking excuse for the way that I look. Yes, I had a rough childhood... my dad used to be the anorexic voice in my head: Don't eat that, you'll get fat. You don't want to be fat, do you? Now go run fifty laps before bed. He used to push me so hard, and my body reflected the effort. If he had never gone away then I would be self-disciplined and perfect... But after the divorce, the fat kid decided it was time to have a free day. I binged and binged... eight-years-old. The overeating never stopped. It was like, I thought I could defy my dad. But that's impossible. He was right. I am fat - now go fucking do something about it.

Human potential is so terribly vast. I just want to dive right in; I want to push my body until blood seeps from the pores. I want to keep spiraling down into the negative calories until my head is floating, completely detached above my neck. I want to take a scalpel and scrape this disgusting fucking FAT away... leaving behind the clarity of bone. Only when you see bone do you know that you've done everything you can to be a better person. Only then, can you find who you really are, the matter you're really made of.