Oink Oink

UGH.

I just pigged out on three creme eggs, six choc chip cookies, and a slice of granary toast and marmalade. DISGUSTING! It comes to about 1100 calories altogether...And today was supposed to be a fast. I was doing incredibly well - for me, anyway. All I ate yesterday was two spoons of potato salad. And I wasn't going to have anything today, but...I don't know what happened. I just got the munchies, I guess. But excuses won't do. I failed. I gave in to my weaknesses. My lack of self-control is my ultimate downfall. Anyone who is reading this has a right to be disappointed in me. Ana should be disappointed in me. I'm disappointed in me.

I will eat nothing tomorrow. Nothing nothing nothing. And if the parentals make food for me, I will tell them I'm ill and avoid it. But then I have the dilemma of the sunday roast... This is why I HATE living at home. If I lived away from the folks I'd be a fucking rake, I swear!

Oh god, I feel so sick now... I have let myself down, and I have let Ana down. I'm dreading weighing myself this week. I weigh myself on a sunday morning. But this week I have COMPLETELY pigged out. I'm such a fucking let-down.

This is where it gets serious. I won't eat unless I'm forced.

Fatness is an illness. Ana, I'm begging you to cure me.