My boyfriend’s dad made a comment at how much weight I’ve gained. I’ve never felt so hurt and furious at the same time. I was finally starting to feel okay with my body and he goes and says that. I swear he’s fucking dead to me. You don’t do that to someone who clearly is battling with inner demons.


I hate my metabolism!

I cut carbs and sugars from my diet and I’ve only been able to lose one miserable lb.

I switched my routine a bit today. I ate a bit more and went for a run. Hopefully that will help me.


Yesterday, I hit rock bottom….

This past week my stress levels have been off the roof. I’ve a million things to do and worry about. Between finals and the thought of failing my classes, I have been binge eating like there is no tomorrow. I’ve eaten until my stomach hurts and I feel like purging because of how much I have eaten. Afterward I tell myself to get a hold of it and to never do it again.

Though, yesterday was different. I ate so much while I was at school that by the time I was driving home my stomach couldn’t handle it anymore. Immediately, I began to freak out and feel guilty. All my mind could think of was the calories that I had consumed. My mind got so flogged that by the time I was about to park my car, I pulled out of the drive way and drove around to find a dark place where I can park. I think I must’ve driven around for like five minutes until I found a dark place…immediately after I searched for a bag, took my glasses off and stuck my fingers down my throat(for the first time in my life)I tried to make it all go away but I couldn’t…after several unsuccessful trials I gave up, threw the bag to the back of my car and drove home.

As soon as I got home, I buried myself under my covers and cried.

I don’t know what has gotten into me.


Me: please don't place this shirt on the dryer. It shrunk.
Mom: we didn't use the drier machine. We air dried it.
Me: but it shrunk. It feels tight.
Dad: maybe you gained weight. You do look a little rounder .
Me: T.T

Not going to lie, not losing any weight this week got me a little bit sad. I wont let it bother me for too long, I just wanted to get it out. 


I’ve hit my lowest point. I’m 142.6. I know I’m the only one to blame. I haven’t been careful with my eating habits yet alone worked out regularly in months. I’ve made excuses and allowed school, work and family to get in the way. 

I know what I must do but I won’t go at it hardcore. I’m going to take small step. Try to talk positive to myself(cause lately, all that has comes out through my mouth are negative comments) and make an effort to change. I’m going to be realistic, and make it my goal to get down to 130 by new years. I know I can do this…I just have to stick with it. 


I’m afraid to step on my scale. I’m afraid I won’t like the number that I see and I’ll freak out.


I’m the only one to blame for my weight gain and miserable feelings. Things aren’t going to get better over night but I have faith. And even though I am mentally an physically exhausted, I am going to push myself to go to the gym. 

It’s time to put my health first once again.

I’m the only one to blame for my weight gain and miserable feelings. Things aren’t going to get better over night but I have faith. And even though I am mentally an physically exhausted, I am going to push myself to go to the gym.

It’s time to put my health first once again.


Binged and the voice is back. Not to mention my mom keeps dropping hints that she thinks I’m anorexic. I’m not, at least not now. I used to be, a while back. Anyways, I’m afraid I’m might fall back into old habits and either not eat or gain weight.


I’m afraid to step on my scale. I don’t want to be disappointed.