That should just be my name from now on. I should change my name to failure. No middle name, no last name; just Failure. My self-control, my will power has gone. Disappeared into nothing. What am I without my self-control? I am nothing. I am worthless. I may as well go and eat everything in the pantry right now. It’s going to happen sooner or later. The second rule of the challenge was no sweets. Well I broke that rule exactly one hour ago, which also breaks my rule of no eating after 8pm. My stomach is bloated, hard and distended. It’s uncomfortable. It’s painful. It’s disgusting. I’m disgusting.
I want to punish myself but I can’t.
I want to purge but I can’t – not for lack of trying. My fingers are not strong enough. My toothbrush not long enough. My will power not enough to keep trying. I give up.
I want to scream but I can’t.
I want to break down and cry but I can’t; I’m stronger than that. I need to be stronger than that. Prove that I can control myself.
Today has been a terrible day, even though I know that tomorrow is a new chance, it is no comfort. There’s no guarantee that I won’t do the same thing over and over, until I’m too fat to do a single thing for myself. Until all I can do is lie there while people get my food for me. Until I am unrecognizable as the girl I used to be.
Failure. Failure. Failure.