Wasting away

This winter is gonna be a nightmare, trying to lose 1 kg a week until Christmas, it should put me at 50-51 kg. I know fasting is the only way to lose weight that rapidly, and I might fail. I'm gonna need to fast at least 2 days a week and restrict the other days, careful not to gain with a crashed metabolism. Cause it's gonna crash, if it hasn't already. I skipped the ABC diet, it's not working. I need to fast to get off this set point, the weight my body wants to be at.

Although I already screwed that up with 5 calories of cabbage, but if that's all I'm having today then whatever. I also had 2 cups of tea and 1 cup of coffee, adding up to 92 calories so far today. I lost my motivation but think I regained it when I started thinking more about my goal. Oh god, how I dread Christmas! I can't even go 2 days without purging and I'm scared shitless of gaining on all that food, so I'm feeling kinda screwed.

I'm all numbers today, just counting and rambling them. Calories and kilos is all I see. I try to picture my goal, what I could look like weighing 50 kg. It's not my ultimate goal, but a smaller goal on the way. I'm likely gonna scare my family once I hit that goal, when they see me, cause it's something I can't hide from them, but I don't care. I do what the fuck I want with my body.

My mind has become so distorted, and starving it doesn't exactly help. Am I so far gone? I guess I was an easy target. 50 kg... it would give me a BMI of 17,7. Underweight but not enough to get anorexia. For that I'd have to be at most at 17,0 which is about 49 kg. I'm not exactly taking it easy, no I put all the energy that I have into it. Starve as much as I can, fast as much as I can and purge everything I "overeat". Just hoping I can reach my goal before purging kills me. How often would be enough to kill me? A few times a week, a few times a day? And for how long? I guess I'll just notice.

And when I'm bored I start singing out loud not caring that it's past midnight, I just don't care. That "keeping up appearances" -thing won't work any longer when I get to a new lowest weight, which is anything below 53 kg. They'll notice my relapse, they'll all notice. But that's good too, cause then I won't have to pretend anymore. But I'll keep it secret for as long as I can.

Damn I feel so weak and tired and drained. That diet really took the best out of me. I'll try to fast this weekend, or at least stick to less than 100 calories a day, then eat more during the weekdays when I have school. But not more than at most 700 and never always that much. Hoping that will work. Cause if I haven't lost weight by tomorrow I'm gonna cry. I'm gonna cry so hard.

And you know not many things can make me cry these days, or ever. Once I did, just a few weeks ago or so. I was thinking about K as I knew he was suicidal again and I just lied down on the couch with a cigarette and cried silently. That is very recent for being me. The time before that... I can't remember. Spring or last winter, I think. I've been so dead inside, bottling up the little feelings I've had.

I'm still dead inside. Still can't feel much at all, and when I do, I usually can't control it that well. It runs over, basically. Usually only very strong things can make me cry, and although I don't know if my weight can be a strong enough reason, I have no doubt that it can be.

I started restricting about 2 months ago, when I relapsed in the end of August, but I haven't lost much weight at all. About 2 kg, but I don't know for sure cause I only started weighing myself about a week ago. Ahah... talking about crying and 2 minutes later I'm sobbing to a song I've heard a million times. "The Rose" by Bette Midler, during the phrase "And the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live". It gets to me every time, but I don't always cry.

Well, my eyes just barely watered and only slightly it ran over, but still. If anything should make me cry it should be my horrible body, but somehow it doesn't. It makes me scream though. Sometimes. I react more often with anger than with sadness for some reason. Maybe it's the testosterone. Heck what would I know.

Now I think I understand, on some level, what you meant when you said to me that 50 kg is pretty thin already, K. When I told you that was my goal weight last autumn. I didn't want to alarm you, but 47 was already then my actual goal weight, before it dropped down to 44. Looking at thinspo made me realise that neither 50 nor 47 was ever gonna be enough.

And now I wonder if 44 is gonna be thin enough. Secretly I have, for about a week now, wished that I could one day weigh below 38 kg. Not so secretly anymore. Oh my god, that would put me at a BMI of 13,5... For your sake, I hope I never get quite that low. Cause I do still care about you, I do. And I don't want you to see me literally become just a skeleton. I think 44 is low enough, which is a BMI of 15,6 if I remember that correctly. It is super thin, but not skeletal.

I'm just a disaster today. Memories from the past week are haunting/following me. A classmate, the one I like the best and almost consider a friend, we can call her G, tasted one of my cigarettes and then excitedly said she could definitely understand why I'm smoking Lucky Strike, but for 55 kr/pack? Yeah, I'm a bit crazy when it comes to my cigarettes. It's a good memory.

I have serious trust issues these days. I'm different from who I was back in Uppsala, I've changed. Became stealth, hiding my eating disorder, I rarely see people, I rarely open up. And it's hard... even when I see some of my old friends, to open up. I've become so used to keeping everything bottled up, so used to do what I think of as protecting my own skin. Lying, cover it with a smile or a faint giggle. Telling only half the story and then saying "that's pretty much it" and lie if I get questions, or simply just leave out the truth.

About me being stealth: first off, it's because I can. Secondly, someone once told me to be careful who I tell it to. It's an important person to me and those words just stuck with me. Did they push me into being stealth? Oh heck no, they would never have such intentions. All I'm saying is that it got me thinking but the decision was entirely my own, when I moved to this island.

It feels like I'm bleeding internally today, but I won't purge, I won't eat. No more than the little I already have, at least. I'm just trying so hard to focus on my goal and the few things that are good in my life right now. School is good, but I'm ruining it with my eating disorder. Talking to K is good but it can't ever be us. Just the two of us against the world. I would love to be next door neighbours with him. I'd have my privacy but still be able to just walk over and knock on his door. That would be perfect.

Two and a half years and I'm still madly in love. I don't think I'll ever stop loving him. I think that is my old record, that I've never loved someone like this for such a long time before. By the time I'm supposed to die, it will be 3 years. So as long as I'm alive, I can never be in love with him for more than 3 years. But I'll keep loving him after I die. That is for sure. Maybe I'll even try to watch over him for a while after, but what good would a ghost be for someone living?

I hope I can be a ghost for a little while after I die, to just watch over the ones I love and see how they're coping or not coping. But I don't know if that could be my choice or not. To just linger here for a few months or so before I take off to Dala. But still I wonder... will I leave K when I die, or will he leave me the same way before then? It's something I can't let go of. I don't know how badly he would take it when I die. I don't want to think about it but yet I try to imagine it.

Cause it's the last thing I ever want to do, hurt him like that. I don't know how many friends he's still in contact with, I don't know many carefully listen when he's down, how many wish they could do more than comfort him with words, how many care endlessly much about him. But I'm guessing it's not hundreds of people. I know I can't love myself, but I'm not dumb, I know other people can love and care about me. And though I've never heard him say it, I think he on a friendship level might love me. He might.

It's 2:05 and I'm digging too deep again. Eating disorder, suicide and K is literally all I ever think about these days, and the three topics entwine into a god awful mess that is sometimes hard to separate. Like tonight. I want to starve to death making it my suicide while I'm worried about how K would react to it all. So far, he's the only one in my real life who knows about my relapse. I didn't even think twice about telling him. I'd tell him everything, but I'm not spewing everything out just like that.

I don't know what will become of this night. I'm always in need of my psychologist but I just can't. Afraid I'll say too much, or not nearly enough. I want to tell her about my prophecy, that I'll die soon after my 27th birthday, and that I want to die, that I feel ready but not before then. Could I? Would that be too much? What if she'd think I should be sent inpatient until those thoughts go away? They never will go away. I'm either right or too crazy for a simple stay at the hospital to help me. Besides, if I go there they'd notice my eating disorder and I don't want that. I don't want anything.

But I don't want to lose my psychologist just because I've given up. I still need her, just not to get better. I can't really explain why I need her, but perhaps just for some kind of comfort. I'm just wrapped up in sadness and I can't think clearly. I'm just wasting away, wondering if I even have that long.