Can't even think of a title

I know it has been ages since I have written. I don't know what to say. I feel pants. I feel so incredibly pants. I hate this. I hate everything about it. I feel like I am reaching the end of myself. I should explain, but I can't even be bothered. I am in a pit and I haven't got the energy to climb out.

I have been doing quite well at star5ving, and I know that the weekeneds are my binge time - I even told myself it was ok to do that as long as I didn't eat the rest of the week, and as long as I make myself sick after the binges.

Yesterday I big time binged because I had a stupid bbq for Dales birthday. WHY DOES EVERYTHING have to involve food? Why? I am so annoyed. Thing was, I couldn't even be bothered to throw it up OR take any lax's. I was that defeated. Its so easy to make plans, so easy to break them. I ate pizza thins morning, and made myself sick but not ebough. I feel crap.

I don't even feel like I deserve the title Bulimia anymore. I don't use lax's or make myself sick enough to deserve it. I am simply a binger. I just binge. I binge. I am a fat bitch. FAT FAT FAT. I so so so wanted to get below 9 stone and I was getting there. I really was, but now I am going to be so far away agin. I hate myself so much I really really do. I HATE myself.

I feel sick. I feel sick with myself. sick to my stomach. I HATE FOOD. Genuinely. I know I eat it and use it far too much. Seriously far too much. But I actually hate it. I don't think there is anything I hate more than food not even myself. I detest its existence. I need to scream and cry but I don't know how - I can't let it out. It seems so pointless. Its not going to help. At this point I am beginning to look forward to going to the group meeting thing because I hope it will be a bit of an outlet for these feelings. I just want to talk to people who understand and don't mind me making such a big deal out of something that to other people is so unimportant.

I really really just need to talk about it and cry about it. I really do. I hate this so much. Sometimes I think there is no point in this illness anymore. I am not going to make it, I am not going to be able to get as thin as I want to because I can't do it. I am not committed enough to losing weight and I am not committed enough to getting better. I can't do either. I am caught in the middle - somewhere between recovery and obsession.

I am obsessed, it is what I think about all the time. I must exercise. Tonight, I will go to the gym. Next week, I will eat nothing, except for Thursday where it is Dales birthday. I must not eat anything during the day on Thursday. Seriously. Kirsty, please don't give up. Come on. Please, just get to 8 stone. Come on, please.
Ephesians 4:27 "Do not give the Devil a way to defeat you"