Hello...this is me.
	Will I be able to look back someday and see this as some passing phase adolescences?  Or will this be something that I carry with me for the years to come?  How can I hold so dearly to something that is proving contrary to all I want it for?  And is this what I have become…my identity lies within my eating disorder.  Hello, my name is Bulimia.  And that is it…nothing else…at least nothing else matters…does it?  I feel overly guilty about my weight…in the book I am reading she weighs 60-80 lbs most of the time.  How dare I call myself eating disordered and weight double that?  She records her weight…I’d feel so overcome with guilt writing down my number.  And watching it…just looking at a neatly penned number that to me represents hate and self loathing.  How dare I? I hate this more than I can say...more than I can understand.  I hate it for all the typical reasons.  It has taken so much away from me...years that I cannot get back, it has made me angry...paranoid...and self-loathing.  I am consumed with fear and dread.  I am only confortable in certian pants with a sweatshirt... and even then I squirm.  My arms are always positioned as if to conceal my fat...that I see, even if you refuse to.  I know it is there...I am able to hide it better now...thankfully....maybe I can go on living... maybe not.  ICK