debole

Bad news to report, I'm sorry. Probably a very boring post.

Sunday (two days ago), I was doing fine. Hadn't eaten all day. My mother told me that she was, quote unquote 'proud' of me for eating 'healthy'. Then, my father, who is alot more perseptive then my mother, gave me a talk about my (non) eating habits. I told him I wasn't feeling very well. He told that I shouldn't worry about what my mother wants, and that I should be happy with who I am. Mostly, I just lied alot. I thought my eating was forgotten or at least forgiven.

Supper happened. I ate a salad. My father decided he was making cookies, which is unusual for him. The smelt sooo good. After so long of not eating anything with sugar it was hard to resist... but I did for a little while. Then, my father gave me one. I thought, one little cookie isn't going to fuck this up. Bad choice. If there is one thing I know about myself, it's that if I have one bite, I can't stop.

6 cookies later:

I'm sitting in my room, thinking about how it's only the start of making this 'change' and I've already ruined it. I tell myself that I need to fix this. Somehow. I think of mia, even though I've never been able to do it. I knew that if I did, I'd be sinking to a new low. I make my way into the bathroom. I figure that if people all over the world can do it, so can I.

15 minutes later I emerge with a red face, sore throat, and both pleased and disgusted with my self. I somehow managed to get rid of some of the awful awful cookies, but mia is just to revolting for me to ever want to experience again.

So, that would have been fine, and recoverable, except the next day (monday) I ate. And kept eating. I know that it was above 'normal' but below a complete binge day. There is no reason, or excuse.. I just woke up and couldn't stop.

I guess it happens to most of us at some point.

So, finally today. Tuesday. Weighed myself this morning to see what the damage was, still 110. Haven't gained, haven't lost. Haven't aten yet.

I watched the teen choice awards last night with my mother. It was very inspiring, and is currently helping me restrict today. All the beautiful young celebrities, in their gorgeous dresses with thin legs sticking out the bottom. Glamourous, and endlessly thin thin thin. I wish I was there, sitting on the red couches, smiling and flipping my perfectly curled hair. One of the crowd of smiling, flawless faces. Presenting an award maybe, or recieving one. Feeling the eyes of thousands of viewers on me, and enjoying it.

Watching it with my mother kind of ruined it though. For example, when Miley Cyrus was preforming Party in the USA in her short shorts and skanky bra-showing outfit, my mother goes "She has fat legs doesnt she? Don't you think?'. Miley Cyrus is many things, but she isn't fat. She may not be stick thin, but she definatley didn't have fat legs. 'No,' I said. And for the rest of the song my mother just keeps yapping about her 'fat' legs.

The entire time she was doing this, I was thinking about myself. My legs. The arn't any skinnier then Miley Cyrus's legs. They're probably the same size. Is that what my mother is thinking when she see's me in shorts? Is that what other people are thinking? If I was in that outfit at the teen choice awards instead of Miley Cyrus, would I look skinnier? Fatter? Would people who don't know me, and actually weigh MORE then me being calling me fat?

Like who gives you the fucking rights to tell people they have 'fat' legs. As you sit there on your coach weighing more then them, looking uglier, and doing alot less with your life.

I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be sticking up for Miley Cyrus.

Anyway, wish me luck today and all the days in the future. Thanks a lot for all of your comments...:)

Stay strong... you know that you'll regret it later tonight if you don't.

Chiara.