I just ate four slices of toast with butter, mayonaisse and steamed vegetables. I heated the vegetables up from the fridge (they were the meal the other day). It was anger food, and I wolfed it all down in front of my parents after having a furious row with both individually. Then I went upstairs and threw it all up. I didn’t pause, I didn’t care. I was angry and I had never wanted food. I had just wanted something to chew so that I could use my anger on something. Throwing the bag of bread hadn’t stopped me from wanting to break things.

 So I chewed and chewed, getting angrier and angrier. I never even considered the possibility that I would keep it in my stomach. It wasn’t an ED thing. It was anger management. So I chucked it all up without pausing, and it was gone in about five miutes. I didn’t cry, I didn’t wonder why I was doing it, whether it was normal. I don’t care anymore. I don’t care if it isn’t healthy. It helps me cope, it helps me not absorb kcals, and again, it helps me cope.

Dad accused me of being selfish, and I just snorted at him. Everyone is selfish, I’m not any worse than any of them. He is more selfish than I am. I may not help physically by doing stuff, but I’m the f***ing shoulder that everyone cries on.

Next time he talks to me, tries to argue; tries to win, I will say:

“You are right. I am selfish. I only look out for myself. But someone has to, right?”

I just want to scream, “look at what you are doing! look at my arms, smell my sicky breath, read my f***ing diary!” but I know if I do, I will regret it. Because they will either think I’m attention seeking (likely), and/or watch me eat and take away my privacy (also likely).

I HATE THEM……………………………ALMOST MORE THAN I HATE MYSELF