war

It's like a war, in my head.

Me vs. me.

There's the me that wants needs to lose weight again - starve and binge and purge and look so skeletal that random passerby stare.  That me is kneeling on the shower floor coughing and hacking and trying to purge.  I'm such a failure I can't seem to do that anymore.

But the other me wants to eat healthy food and exercise moderately and not worry everyone or look scary.  That's the me that seems to be stopping me from purging.  The me that stops me from cutting, most days.  Not today.

It's a constant, constant fight.

We should eat something.
Don't, we're a huge fattie.
We need it to run.
We didn't back in the fall, when we weighed 82.  Think how gorgeous we were then.  Boyfriend would never have broken up with us if we didn't get FAT FAT FAT.
Shut up, shut up!  Remember when Daddy cried?
We'll hide it better this time.  We deserve to starve.
No, we don't!  We're skinny already!
No, we're not.  We're a whale.  We were skinny when we could see our hip bones through our JEANS.  Not before.  Don't eat that.
OK.
-or some days: Shut up!  I deserve to eat.

But.

It never stops.  Win one, fail the other.  Always, always a failure for one side.  Success for the bad me, guilt for the good me.  Success for the good me, horrible, painful deathly guilt for the bad.

Anyone else feel this way?

I'm gonna draw a picture - a picture with a twist.

I'll draw it with a razor; I'll draw it on my wrist.

And if my picture's perfect, a fountain will appear

And as the fountain starts to flow, all my troubles disappear.