Mia I said no burgers!

114
Somehow I need to find a way to manage to lose another pound by tomorrow. I need to put in atleast two hours at the gym for my absence lately. Ugh, my thighs are starting to jiggle again.
My entire body aches. Husband made dinner last night for my brother, our friend D and myself. Even though none of us were hungry. I numbly scarfed down the burger, mac n' cheese, corn, and tomatoes. It was weird because I had finished my food before any of the guys. Usually I'm the picker (for obvious reasons). I'll let the food sit there and make an excuse why I can't finish it. Too full, stomach hurts, the flavor is off. I need some new ones actually. I don't know if it's my lack of food, that whenever there's a plate in front of me I don't even have time to react? My brain goes into shut down mode so I can't even think I don't want it. Well fuck that! I practically clawed at my skin until everyone left and I was Alone. Counting the minutes, okay, so it's been 20 minutes, I'll be able to still get a lot of it out. I should've started drinking water like 5 minutes ago! Drove me crazy, but I managed to maintain 114. So I'm good. Bubba Burgers are definitely on my to never eat again list. That shit fucking hurts coming back up.

114.2
I broke down and took Phillips last night.
I'm not happy unless I'm empty.
Feeling bloated and full makes me absolutely miserable.
I leave for Europe in a matter of days.
Hopefully I'll be at a new ultimate low by them.
Oh, to see 113. How magical!
I'm feeling a lot better today.
I got up early took a long time getting ready.
There's something therapeutic for me in doing my hair and make up.
Hearing my husband wolf whistle as I walk downstairs.
Me rolling my eyes, trying to hide my smile.
Aderal and diet coke=breakfast of champions!
Here's to an amazing day!
...
I need to go to the gym. Yesterday I noticed my thighs beginning to jiggle again.
Thus ending with me chugging my laxi.
I haven't been in 2 weeks. Energy level has been at 0.
We'll see how the day plays out.

My will seems depleted.
I can see the dark clamy hole awaiting my jump. 
My knees buckle as I force them to stay grounded.
It seems so redundant. 
So, repetitve with a gluttony for punishment. 
I bask in the cold air that resonates from with in.
I close my eyes and inhale deeply one last time before taking the plunge. 
My fingers burn from the cigarette I clinch between boney fingers.
The yellowing of my nails just symbolize the decaying of my body. 
I want to care. 
I want to feel saved. 
Instead I gourge myself with this feeling. 
Feeling this low will be my control. 
In some sick way, I know the control is one to starve.
One to deplete. 
Concaved emotions. 
My only solitude. 
Happiness seems more like a momentary lapse in judgement. 
This masquerade will destroy me. 
My smile will crack. 
Through the opening for air flow I will only hold my breath.
Praying for the breath to choke me.
I awake and instantly want to cry.
Scream and beat the sheets with sweaty fist. 
I'm so tired...sleep seems too short.
Breathing seems too long. 
Numb doesn't even begin to describe... 

This isn't really the beginning is it?

No I can't really say that this is. The beginning I mean. When for as long as you can remember there has always been something wrong with you. The mirror is my enemy, I fight back the urge to pound my fist at it's optical illusions.
I am married, and for the most part on the outside live the perfect life. I have a career, I have my own house, my own car. Those things don't matter do they? I've always said I hated materialistics, because no matter how much I have, I can't seem to break away from what I love to lose. My obsessions will eventually destroy me.
Current weight: 114.4
Body fat 16%
Water weight 60%
Lowest weight: 114
Highest weight: 136
Height 5'6
I'm finding out that my old time friend Mr. Laxi is coming back to haunt me in a very unflattering way. I can't have a bowel movement with out some sort of assistance. Miralax, metamucil, Phillips...I've tried them all. I'm going to have to have to have surgery in 6 weeks. To those who don't know abusing laxitives causes hemrroids. I told you it wasn't
flattering.
The funny part is, is even that isn't even enough for a wake up call. I haven't ate all day, and don't intend to. I've been drinking water and coffee all day. Aderals are my new best friend due to the fact they keep my anxiety and hunger at bay. My husband begged me to eat last night, and yes I really didn't feel good. I think though he's finally after 5 months and 10 pounds later, realizing that maybe there's a problem here. I have no ultimate goal weight. With each pound lost is a small victory. I stopped making goals, because creating new ones was exhausting. I just want to wake up in the morning and weigh less than the day before. Point blank.
This is my high. I don't drink. I don't do drugs. THIS is my escape from reality. This is my secret. Though some people have been let in recently due to my mental breakdown the other day. It's mine. It's MY problem. My burden. I don't want help. I like to release the tormoil it cost bottling up these motives, but it's not fair to do that to my family and my friends. They've been through enough. I've always been the rescuer, not the rescue-e.
I have lost a lot of myself these past 2 years. I use to love to write. It was my escape. I haven't penned down any of my emotions in so long. I've almost forgotten how therapeutic it can be. I got tired of constantly writing about my troubles with bulemia. Every entry was about purging. Sometimes I would purge just so I could have something to write about. So I boycotted my journal. Ashamed of what my children might read one day.