Today I fell through again.

I did so well until after dinner when my mom left to run errands.

I just ignored my conscience and my motivations. I overate for around two hours. It was one of the nastiest feeling things I have ever done.

Why is it that I always fall apart right before I have one successful day?

I ended up feeling so sick that I purged after.
Oh the irony...

Another failure.

I can't decide what to do.

I feel like I'm failing God, and my Savior. I guess I don't have enough faith to abstain from these harmful habits. Do you think that an eating disorder counts as a sin? It goes against the Word of Wisdom....

I keep thinking I should fast, but what if my blood sugar goes low? What if I break it on accident?

It doesn't help either that my stomach has completely expanded so I think I'm starving ALL THE TIME.

I think my biggest problem tonight was that I allowed myself to say upstairs in the kitchen after I had eaten dinner. I should have gone downstairs, I even told myself that several times.

Some days I really just want to call it quits.


"It's hard enough having to live with you, and your Diabetes every day, Alyson!"

Thanks Mom.

I don't really know where to start as far as my emotions are going tonight. Tensions are definitely running high  here at home.

It annoys me that my family thinks that they understand me so well when they really don't. If they did understand me, they wouldn't over-react to some of the things I say. Half of the time, I have no idea what I'm even saying anyways. Most of the time though, they have have no idea what my intentions were behind what I said.

I guess its my fault that I feel this way. When I get frustrated, I do get upset. But let me just clarify that I get upset when I'm misunderstood, which usually results from being accused of something, or chastised for something I never meant to be offensive.

I usually say most of my conversations, and thoughts to myself. And no, I'm not crazy or schizophrenic, I just think to myself more than I talk to others. I guess it's because I trust myself more than anyone else. It's also safer to say something in my mind, than openly to others. I usually know where I'm coming from, and the reasoning behind what I want to say. This makes it hard for me to actually express myself adequately to those around me though. Often, the conversation I want to have is already over in my head, and I can't remember what I actually wanted to say to the other individual.

I just wish people would give me some slack. I try to do the same for those around me, and again, I do this in the privacy of my own head, which only complicates things even more due to the fact that I come across as ignorant at times. In reality though, I was already one step ahead of those around me.

I don't want to give a sob story about my life, or have a personal pity party, but I can't explain how hurt I feel whenever this happens. If people really knew me, and my character, they wouldn't say some of the things they do. Maybe if I understood myself better I wouldn't let myself get so upset.

I need to stop for a second to read a text my mom sent me about tonight.

She says that because she isn't agreeing with me it doesn't mean she doesn't care about my feelings. I appreciate that, but that wasn't the problem tonight. I didn't want her to agree with me, I wanted her to understand where I was coming from, probably more that anyone should need to. She also told me that I needed to apologize to my sister. I ALREADY DID THAT AN HOUR AGO MOM! I REALIZED THAT SHE WAS HURT WAY BEFORE YOU THOUGHT YOU NEEDED TO TELL ME. YOU SHOULD KNOW ME BY NOW. I WAS THE ONE THAT GOT HER TO APOLOGIZE TO YOU, AND THEN YOU CAME IN AND TOOK OUT YOUR REMAINING FRUSTRATIONS ON ME NOT EVEN KNOWING WHAT I HAD DONE, AND NOT EVEN GIVING ME THE CHANCE TO APOLOGIZE MYSELF. DO YOU EVEN KNOW ME??????!

I guess I'm still hurt by some of the things she said earlier. I understand that my blood sugar levels can control my temper, but I can't help it most of the time. I'm not an emotional wreck, I'm a human being. I'm not a walking disease. I have the right to my own emotions, even if their timing may be inopportune, or if they are enhanced by sugar levels.

You think it's hard living with me? Try living with a disease and an eating disorder at the same time.

Try having to live with yourself.

I don't know how to fix this gap between myself and my family. I know the responsibility is entirely on me, but how can you change someone's perception of you when they way they treat your personality is habitual?

I don't really know where I'm going with this, but I guess it's all out now.
I don't even talk to my mom about how I feel anymore. It's not worth it. This happens every time.

I get frustrated when she doesn't understand what I'm saying, and she gets upset when I say she doesn't understand me.

Seriously, this blog has become my lifeline.


Ah, another day of failures.

I did great up until the hour before my friend's birthday party. I had been holding myself back from snacking because his mom was going to make everyone dinner and snacks. I held my group fairly well, but then I just snapped. I can't explain what happened.

Again, I just think it was a lack of motivation and self-control. I've been trying my hardest to remind myself of the consequences of my actions both presently, and eternally. If I don't stop my compulsive eating, I won't be able to serve a mission at 19. I've often wondered if this is a weakness of mine that is only being brought to a new level of severity because of the adversary. I feel weird typing that up and saying it outside of the confines of my mind, but I can't explain just how strongly I know this to be true. I know that just like anyone else, I was meant for great things in my life. However, even though we all have many opportunities to achieve greatness, not everyone can reach it. I think temptation plays a major role in every failure in life.

Although I have great intentions to quit, and to reach my full potential, I just keep getting pulled back down by my actions. I know that I'm not the only one aware of the possibilities in my future, but I wish I was stronger. I've had several moments in my life where I had to stand for something. It was hard, but I wasn't swayed in the least to do things I knew to be wrong. I think I reached the hiatus of my spiritual strength when I was dieting and losing weight last year. We're taught that moderation in all things increases our connection with Heaven, and that when we discipline ourselves, it is easier to do what is right (hence the purpose of fasting). I was doing both of these things for a good 6 months of my life. During that time, I wasn't afraid to do what I knew to be right, I had a bright spiritual future. Now, with no discipline, and definitely no moderation in any aspect of my life, I've found it to be harder to not only hear the Holy Ghost, but to listen to Him as well.

I feel like Satan knows that this eating disorder is the key to my destruction. I've never been troubled by the fact that I have Diabetes, and I've always been able to rise above any cruelty shown to me.

But he knows as well as I do, that I have a terribly low self-esteem.

I think its great that I can realize all of these different aspects of my disorder. Sadly, I seem to forget my observations as quickly as they come.

I want to try to see my life in an eternal perspective, but its always easier said than done.

I want to receive the blessings that have been promised to me, I want to serve the Lord, I want to grow.

I want to repent.
I want to be happy.
I want to be healthy.

I want to be in control again.

Needless to say, today wasn't perfect. I fell apart, and gave in to the enticements of food.

Maybe tomorrow I'll remember these things.

Maybe not.

Food is like a drug. I can't stop thinking about it, and I have to have it when I know it's available.

I even dug through the garbage tonight to eat my mom's leftover Cafe Rio.

I'm disgusting.

Failing at Succeding

Where to begin with today's misadventures...

Well, I continue to impress myself with how frequently, and willingly, I seem to fail at living.

This is in no way a pity party, or a way to have anyone feel sorry for me, but I feel like lately I seem to succeed at failing, and fail at suceeding.

I did so well until an hour after dinner. Ultimately, I ended up eating about a 1/3 of a cereal box, plus a little extra on the side.

I didn't purge though.
I was definitely tempted, but I didn't.

I feel so fat right now. I mean, I feel fat all of the time, but having a stretched out stomach only makes it more of a reality rather than an ideology I hold concerning myself.

I wish I had something really upbeat to say right now, but frankly, I've got nothing.

I read a blog today that was definitely on the liberal side of writing. Although it was too extreme for my tastes, I couldn't help wanting to be like her. To be someone different, someone radical.

I saw something on Pinterest today that had a picture of some super fit legs with a caption that said, "Would you rather have french fries, or a gap between your thighs?"

Honestly, that little gap is one of the things I miss the most about the old me. I miss my friend, my role model.

I wish I had more confidence that I could make my past my future, but one can only fail so many times before losing hope.

I've decided that my "Nom De Plume" (more or less applicable to it's actual definition) is positivity. No one has no idea how painful my very existance has been lately. I don't even talk to my mom anymore. It just isn't worth it.

I don't know what to do with myself.


Whenever someone would state a misconception about me, I would always think to myself, "Do you have any idea who I am?!". Nowadays though, I find myself asking myself, "Who do I think I am?". 

Its obvious that this eating disorder, and weight gain have definitely impacted my personality, and my mentality as well. I'm not who I once was. 

I'm more cynical, more self-conscious; I don't care about how I look, and I put less thought into what I say. I've detached myself from things I used to hold dear. And quite frankly, I can't stand people anymore.

Its hard enough looking in the mirror to only find a stranger staring back at you, but its even harder not recognize what you consist of. 


I feel like I'm split between who I was, and who I'm allowing myself to become. Its almost borderline schizophrenic. 

I guess I'm trying to bring a dead person back to life in a sense, but that person is long gone. 

Sometimes I wonder if who I was, was really that great to start out with. Maybe I'm just idealizing her, and only remembering the best moments of my past. In my memories, every did seem brighter and gilded with gold. 

But gilded objects aren't truly gold, just the thin outer coating is.

I've already admitted that a year ago I was definitely proud, and more than a little harsh at times. I still carry those traits with me, but in different forms, and different levels of severity.

Can I move on? I seriously have no idea. All I want is some stability in my life.


Today, I fell asleep after school, and didn't wake up until 6:30pm.

My blood sugar levels went low during that time period, and I went to go get dinner to help raise my levels while also having a meal to keep me away from snacking.

Well, that plan failed.

Dinner wasn't ready, and with low blood sugar brain, I'm not the same person...neither is my reasoning.

I ate pineapple, chocolate milk, half a container of Cool Whip, some maple syrup, some pasta....and then finally soup for dinner.

Despite being full, I kept eating afterwards. I think part of the reason why this happened was that my will-power was definitely not being used to it's fullest measure, and I think it also was a result of my Mom not being home to give me a little peer pressure as far as staying away from the kitchen goes.

I'm frustrated that I failed again. I'll try again tomorrow, and test my blood sugar before I eat.

After bingeing, I felt like hiding in my downstairs bathroom to purge.

Luckily, I didn't.

Instead I finished up a drawing assignment for Sociology. I've noticed that drawing, music, and reading are the best ways for me to not only be distracted, but feel better about myself. I think I might set up an hour each day that I have to do one of these things....It probably won't happen, but at least I sound better by at least talking openly about the idea.

I should be fine tomorrow....
given that I don't doubt myself, and actually follow through on something for once.

Mom told me that I need to be more Christlike today... I feel like I'm always misunderstood. 

Mirrors, and Illusions

I've been thinking a lot lately about my how I see myself, and how others see me.

Personally, I've noticed that my self-esteem often depends on the mirror I'm looking through. I can remember thinking about this back in middle school. During that darkly awkward period of my life (which I think it is for pretty much anyone), I began to pick up on the impact that my reflection had on me while I was shopping for clothes. I found that in the "trendy" name-brand stores, their dressing rooms were my personal Hell. I conceived a notion eventually, that those businesses strategically planned everything about those stalls--from their width to their lighting, to play on your emotions as a shopper. I've often wondered if stores adjust the mirrors to cause consumers to look thinner than normal, or in some instances, slightly thicker. Giving a not so "fun-house" effect within the business. 

Lately, I've noticed that I feel my most comfortable looking at myself in my bedroom mirror. After thinking about this, I've decided it's because no one is watching. No one is there to critique me, and I have nothing to compare myself to.

The school tends to be the hardest though. 

Perhaps it's because while there I'm constantly being swarmed with petite girls who seem to have never been larger than a size 6. 

Perhaps it's because I'm my harshest critic when I feel uncomfortable. 

Perhaps I set my expectations too high, and my evaluation scores low. 

Or maybe, my reflection is warped by my own negativity...hmmm...I haven't thought of that one before...this writing this is a pretty good idea. My mind can just roam free without impacting anyone, but myself. 

Today as I was parking for work, I looked at my reflection in a window of an abandoned business. I was shocked to see that I actually didn't look that bad. My legs looked leaner, and I looked more idealistic. 

The same thing happened when we went out for dinner for my brother's birthday. I looked in a store window, and I looked thinner than I thought I was. Sure enough though, as soon as I strutted up to Kumon's glass doors, my hips expanded, my height shrunk, and my ego was again crushed.

Do you think that Alice would have seen the same Wonderland had she gone through a different looking glass?

Are all mirrors created equal? I honestly have no idea. However, I do have a hunch that our reflection often depends upon our angle, our distance, and the light that is being shed during that situation.

Sometimes I wish life was black and white. With no varying options aside from those already placed before us. No paths to wander, no pitfalls to encounter. A solution for every cause, and a single action that set off only one or two events rather than a landslide of consequences.

 A cake to grow larger, with an available solution, like a fan, to grow smaller once you realize how terribly uncomfortable you have become.

It always seems to be that when we find ourselves to be 3 inches just right, another person finds us to only be  a wretched 3 inches tall. What does it take for us to not allow outside forces to effect our own sense of worth? 

Do you think it would be harder to memorize every event in your future, or to forget every negative incident of your past?

Musings of a Sunday Night

Do most problems in life arise from expecting too much, or accepting too little of ourselves?

I feel like bingeing is often the forgotten, or unknown eating disorder. It's common in lives of many people, but often goes unrecognized, or undiagnosed.

Well, there isn't exactly a cure either.

Lately, whenever I meet someone new, I find myself wanting to shout, "I didn't always look like this! I actually was quite attractive, powerful, and popular for a year!"

I wonder if that is because my own insecurities need assurance, or as an act to safeguard my remaining pride...

One thing I did notice when I was smaller, was that with beauty (and a small pant-size) comes great power. It's understandable that Helen of Troy had so much influence over those around her due to her looks. Beauty is something that is feared, envied, respected, admired, coveted, and emulated...especially in the world of high school.

I'll admit that when I was a size four, I looked down on those who were larger (even by a little bit), or unhealthier than I was at the time. Now, I can't help but wonder if people think the same of me. I also fear the idea that people are glad that I gained back the weight, that I was defeated.

I never was intentionally rude to anyone, but I definitely was more than a little prideful. And honestly, I think I deserved to be. I worked hard to lose that weight, and wanted my moment in the sun more than anything else.

Now, I just want to hide in the shadows.

What are "acceptable" curves?

I understand that a big chest, and a big bum can go a long way, but what about the other curves? Like pot bellies, flabby arms, chin fat, and back rolls? What about the stretch marks, jiggles, and health problems that are also included?

I think it's funny that skinny individuals are often the ones that say we need to accept how our bodies look. They can say that because they literally don't have much to accept.Would those same women change places with another person who is morbidly obese, and still think that they are beautiful after dealing with the insecurities, and complications of everyday life?

 I think that there are definite body types in the world, but where is the line drawn between thick boned, and over-weight? Which one was genetic, and which was preventable? Personally, I think that if you have a protruding stomach, then something isn't natural (unless, that is, you're pregnant....). Should we be telling a 200 lbs. 10 year old girl to love her body when she clearly is not healthy for her age?

Do women often go through these feelings as their bodies change with age? Can I parallel my emotions, and experiences with theirs?

Gosh. I do not want to go Black Friday shopping this year. I'm just going to get depressed.

Plus, I have no clothes that hide my stomach anymore, and my pants barely fit me.

My stomach floods over the waistline.

I had a lot more that I wanted to say before I sat down to type this up, but I think it can wait for another time.

This was nice. Let's do this again sometime.


Well, my week of purging has finally ended.

Hopefully I'll be able to keep out of that grave for good this time.

I can't help but get frustrated lately with how hard it is to quit. I thought that I was finally done with this eating disorder back in July, but I still can't accept just how wrong I actually was. I've gotten larger in the meantime, and it is physically strenuous to keep myself away from food. I'm doing better, but for how long? When will I completely snap again?

I'd like to think of myself as a thoroughly religious individual. I want to serve a mission in the near future, but that can only happen if I end this addiction. The scriptures talk of faith overcoming all trials, but my faith hasn't helped me at all lately. I feel that I have withdrawn myself from God again through my doubts. I guess that one can only face so many disappointments and failures before breaking down. I know that I'm a broken individual.

Today, things were better up until dinner. I controlled my eating, listened to my stomach, and successfully kept out of the kitchen. During dinner, I ate a regular amount--even leaving some of my unfinished meal on the plate, and then caving in to have a piece of cake with everyone else afterwards. However, as soon as everyone left the kitchen to socialize, I began to fall apart. I should have known better, but  I can't explain how hard it is to resist food that is left out after a meal. It's not that I went totally overboard with my eating, but I definitely ate more that I should have. Heck, I don't even remember what I ate. But I broke my own rules, and goals for the day.

All I want is to lose enough weight to be healthy, if not skinny. I don't even know how much I weight right now. I'm guessing that I'm bordering around 170 lbs. (more or less). Its depressing to think that I literally gained 50 pounds over about 6 months. I know I'm fat. I know I'm weak. I know that I should try harder.

But how?

Food makes me so happy. I guess that's the addiction talking.

I can't help feeling like a failure after all of my relapses. I just can't seem to stay resolved for long enough. Knowing myself, I'm a very impatient person. Often, I seek instant gratification on issues like this. When I chose to diet two years ago, I did the maximum calorie deficit possible in order to lose the weight fast. Now, if I don't see a physical change within two weeks of monitoring myself, I give up.

I think part of my problem deals with the fact that I haven't quite accepted the reality of my decisions. I still want to be that skinny girl I was a short year ago. It just happened so fast. I was robbed of my chance of being healthy for a change.

Because of this, my faith has began to dwindle.

I can't decide if this trial was something that I need to go through, or just a consequence of my actions, and those around me.

I know that this disorder has shaped my character for better, and for worse. But how much of it has been necessary?

Another part of me just wants to place the blame on those who have hurt me in the past. Although my emotions are more controlled now, I still feel a lot of contention towards my mother, my sisters, and those who I once called close friends. How different my life would have been had they acted differently in my life. And on the same note, my life would be drastically different had I chose to react differently to their actions.

I've noticed that often, trials cause us to drown in the waves, float above the surface, cling to a life-preserver or swim to the shore. In my case, I think I was floating for a while, but I distracted myself from surviving a few moments, and now I'm slowly sinking again.

The FUN clinic doesn't really help me anymore, and I don't think that this new therapist will either. Maybe it's my pride, but something keeps telling me I should be able to overcome this. I just can't for some reason.

I don't want to say that unseen forces are trying to hinder my actions, or that I can be healed completely by someone else acting on my behalf, but this whole experience has been a trial of my faith. I have faith that one day I will be healed, but I don't know how, or when it will happen. The bigger question is, why aren't changes happening now? Why can't I apply gospel teachings to my life to help me save it. Should I talk to my bishop? Do I need to go to a rehab center?

I'm going to try harder.


I need to post this. I can't hold it in any longer. 

Within the past week, I've started to purge again, but much worse than in the past. This time around, I'm actually throwing up, not just gagging myself by thrusting my index finger against my uvula. 

The bingeing has gotten worse too. Like worse than before. The past three days have been the darkest since this eating disorder matured last February. 

I just cant stop. I want to go to rehab more than anything in this world, but it wont ever happen. I guess I just want to separate myself from the real world for a while. I know I can make it without needing food when I'm not in close vicinity to a kitchen or food source, but being at home is like living in Hell. I don't want to talk to my mom about what has started to happen lately, she's never around anyway to help me when I need her most, and she just gets upset at me when I tell her that I'm struggling. She also isn't much help either. 

Please don't think that I hate my mother, because I don't. But I do hate talking to her about this. 

I can't handle this anymore. I truly cant. I've tried all that I can, but I'm never consistent. The urge is just too strong. And now, the urge to purge is getting stronger as its own separate addiction. It feels so...satisfying. 

I'm so done with everything.


I'm making my blog least for a while. 

I guess its because I just want to express my inner-most thoughts with no restrictions, and without an audience. My mom once said during one of our therapy sessions that I couldn't ever say what was truly within my soul while she was there listening. 

And she was completely right. 

For that reason, I'm going to shut this public journal down. 

Thanks for listening, maybe you'll be able to tune in to my thoughts again in a season or two. 

I just need to write honestly, and I can't do that when I'm trying to avoid offending those who may read my writing. 

...not that anyone other than my family was even listening to start out with...