I did it again.  I tried on jeans that are sitting in my drawer.  And of COURSE they don’t fit, of course I’m getting fatter.  I’m going absolutely batshit crazy over this.

I had a mini-binge.  I tried to implement some of the tactics that I’ve learned in therapy.  In the end, I binged on a smaller amount, and not on what I wanted.  I probably saved myself quite a bit of bloat (not to mention calories).

I also took a xanax.

I know that progress doesn’t happen over night.  I know that I shouldn’t judge my progress by the way my pants fit.  But goddamn it, I’ve been so entrenched in “diet mentality” for 30+ years.  I feel like a failure. I feel like I’m never going to get better, I’m never going to be thin and beautiful.  I’m just going to be this fat, moon-faced, hideous monster forever.

I feel so worthless. So ugly.  Nothing matters if I’m not pretty. Pretty = thin.

I can’t even articulate how I feel.  I just know that I disgust myself.