crash&burn.

Horrible weekend. Partly from fighting with parents. Partly from crying all the time. Partly from not being able to talk to Tiger.

"You look like you weigh 300 or 400 pounds! You looked fat, Arianna! You looked like Amber*!"

My mother is one of those people who thinks you're unattractive if you aren't slightly overweight. So if she thinks I'm fat, I must be.

"You're a lying sack of shit, that's what you are!"

The Fight proceeded to be about how I'm a spoiled brat and that's why I have the problems I have. And how I can just end it anytime I want. And how I don't need any professional help because I can fix it on my own. So I'm guessing I'm not going to the new therapist now.

Apparently I'm the reason we're spending so much money lately. Ignore the fact that every time my parents go to the home improvement store they spend 1000+ dollars every trip. Dad says it's food costs. Because I eat everything. First they said we spend 800 a month on food. Then they said 1000. Then then said 2000. Yes, I fucking eat 2000 dollars of food a month. Of course I do. Even though when I binge/purge I generally buy my own food.

But no. The reason we're spending so much money is because I'm a spoiled bitch who eats everything. And fat. Can't forget fat. Really fat, apparently. So it's not just distorted perception, because it seems I look 400 pounds to other people too.

I keep getting yelled at for eating the cookies. Eating the cheese danishes [which, I never knew we had]. Eating this. Eating that. Eating all the sandwiches [I ate two of, not all 16. Jesus fucking christ.]. Eating everything. Well, congratulations. Now I'm not eating.

I'm pissed off. Now they're saying I can't go back to school in January. Because I'm not getting better. Are you fucking paying any attention? I am getting better. I was. Now I'm not so sure what I'm doing. But the point is that the better I get [the more I weigh?] the more people fight with me. I haven't been in school in two years. That's fine, homeschool is okay, but it means being with my mother. Constantly. Always.

Listen to me. Whining. I am a spoiled brat.

I don't even want to talk about food. It's been shitty. Not in a binge/purge way, but in a I-can't-eat way.

*my 500 pound cousin