Giving up

My feet are so cold. Does it ever get warm in here? I'm so fucking cold. It feels like barely 10 degrees but it's more likely above 20. I can't eat. Just fucking can't. I have 400 calories limit today but I don't feel like doing this diet anymore. And I swear if that you think this diet is dangerous it's nothing compared to what I'm thinking of doing instead. Fast, restrict, binge, purge, repeat.

I'm just so tired of everything. Of not losing weight, mainly though. If only I had stepped on that scale before my previous fast I would know how much I can expect losing next time I fast. I think that's now. I think I've given up on this diet already. So fucking impatient. Cause if I don't lose 1-2 kg a week I won't even consider it weight loss.

And I want it more than anything right now. I'm so god damn sad nothing, absoutely nothing else matters. Not my apartment, not my health, not my life. Last time I was so scared of dying from my eating disorder, now I'm hoping for it. I'll purge hard. I'll fast hard, I'll restrict hard. Do anything I can to let this kill me. Eventually it has to.

Maybe that's my escape route, the one I've been looking for. I know I thought it last time around as well, but everything is different now. It's been a year... and no fucking progress. I starve, I fast, I walk until my legs are killing me but it all feels so god damn... pointless. I don't care if it hurts, I want pain, but is it really too fucking much to ask for some progress too?

It's like... my body is so fucking hopeless, I can't stand it. I literally can't bloody stand my horrible body don't you understand how much it's killing me? All I want is to be thin and then I can die. It's literally all I want. There's nothing left of me but this. It's all I can ever think about, except from K.

I go through my past, a little every day, but it's lacking emotions and it's all just empty thoughts and pictures without feeling. I don't want to feel. I avoid my feelings like the plague, they only make everything worse. But I know they're there, somewhere deep inside me. Cause the day you literally stop feeling you're dead, and I'm obviously not dead yet. Not yet.

Every day everything feels just a bit more pointless. I'm just awaiting my death and I long for it. At least 6 long months and then I'll be free. I sincerely hope. Cause damn I'm tired of living.

My legs hurt too much for me to walk today, but I might do it anyway. It helps me focus or motivate myself, it helps me keep going in the right direction, to not give up. Cause I'll tell you if I didn't have my eating disorder I'd have nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's safe cause it's mine, something that's entirely my own no matter how you twist and turn it. It's dangerous cause it can or will kill me one day.

I still haven't passed out a single time since that one time summer 2013. What happened then was that I hadn't eaten or drunk anything in 3 days. It was likely dehydration. I didn't go to the doctor or anything. That was when I decided I wanted to have anorexia... oh, the poor life choices we make. Two years later and I almost, kinda have anorexia. But then I don't. Cause I'm too fat.

Not that I really care about the label, I'm just bummed that I'm too fat in general. I just want to be thin, anorexic or not doesn't matter. But I also do know that if I do get below a BMI of 17 I will most certainly have my ED diagnose changed to anorexia. Cause then I'd meet all the criteria. It's just a fact.

And my turned off lamps in the kitchen still remind me that I haven't been there since the meeting which was 15:00 o'clock and still haven't eaten anything today. Don't think I will either. Is this motivation to lose weight, is this fucking motivation?! That I'd rather starve and die from it than live.