Yesterday I purged everything and downed 10 laxatives. Maybe the last 5 times I took lax, it was my usual dose of 10, and it... Scared me each of those 5 times. I got really weak and shaky and my heart would hammer away in my chest, in an irregular rhythm. It happened yesterday, too, but not as bad as the first time when I thought I was going to die.
I'm scared to keep taking lax, but I'm equally as scared to not take them. I plan on keeping them stocked anyway. Because I'm stupid and desperate. I'm also tired and cold - isn't this what I wanted? This secret world of a cold bone cage, where I could shrink as I pleased? I'm angry and frustrated and self loathing when I eat and sad and lonely and split down the middle when I don't. I don't know where to find balance. I don't know if I even want to find that balance - right now, anyway. Maybe in the future I'll seek it out and I'll be happy. As much as I hate starving and puking, I love it. I crave it. It's self imposed torture.
Going to purge now.
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