I am a failure.

I wish I had never started worrying about my weight. At first it was a good thing... I lost twenty pounds, and even though it was a miserable struggle I started to feel better about how I looked. But eventually I stopped watching what I ate. I started eating everything I had denied myself, I lost self-control, and I never, ever stopped thinking about food. I hate myself.

I can't eat in front of people. I always need to justify my eating to everyone around me, and I eat more in my room with the door closed, after everyone's asleep, so that they won't know. I refuse to buy junk food or even bread or meat in the grocery store, and then when I realize I have nothing to eat later in the week except for carrots, I take my roommates' food and eat it too fast. I feel so shameful after I eat. My fucking ski pants wouldn't button closed this winter when we went on the family ski trip... and all I can do is look at my sister, who is stick thin, and want to cry. I don't want to exercise because I feel like it's too late, that I've gotten so fat. My boyfriend thinks I'm fat-- I know it. There's almost never a time when I'm not thinking about food or my weight. I'm so fucking scared to get on a scale. I want to fast for two weeks, not go out, not see anyone. I don't want anyone to see me while I look like this.

Something is wrong with me... I want help. I want to feel good about myself, instead of wallowing in self-hatred. I feel like I deserve this for relinquishing my self control. This is my fault. I let it get to this. I'm either skinny and starving and happy, or fat and miserable.

I'd rather be starving.

I want to cry. Why can't I? I haven't cried since the ski trip. I just want to cry.