Sorry for the lack of thinspo lately; I see that my blog has been a little plain without it. But as you can tell I'm not exactly in the mood to post it. Last night when I was half-asleep I texted my friend a bunch of stuff. Not revealing stuff, just a lot of "I hate my life I'm not a person anymore I'm not anything I'm serious you have no idea" (but granted most of this was spelled so terribly it was undecipherable. I wasn't looking at the keypad at all when I typed.) She said I was texting like a drunk person and I should go to sleep and she'd come and bring hot chocolate and we'd talk it out today. God I wish I could tell her. Like, you know that night we saw Bayside? And we both vowed that surely it was the best night of our lives, because we're best friends and we're seeing our very favorite band together? Well I hardly enjoyed it because I couldn't stop thinking about how fat I was and how I needed to stop eating. This is how eating disorders fucking ruin lives. Because I can't enjoy my favorite things. And the reason I pick fights with you is because Ana keeps telling me not to trust you, that you're not really my friend because I'm too fat and ugly for you. Ana tells me not to talk to people because they won't like me, because I'm too fat and too ugly. She tells me I'm so unlike you. I'm too unlike you to relate to you at all so I shouldn't even bother. I try to think for myself but I can't anymore. She speaks through my body and she says horrible things. I can't fight her off anymore. But I want friends. I don't have any friends because I won't let myself feel close to anyone. And I can't relate to anyone because I'm this fat evil alien but also this starving child who just wants to eat and feel happy about it, for once. And that indeed is why I hate my fucking life.

But I did lose .4lbs so my day is slightly less terrible.