Consumed probably in excess of 2500 calories yesterday, quite probably a lot more, consisting of mostly chocolate and shortbread. 3 treatsize Milkyways, a bag of Giant Buttons, a chocolate cake fancy thing, half a box of Flake chocolates, 6 pieces of shortbread, a scoop or two of Ben & Jerry's, plus actual meals, although they were relatively small. Then I got up at about 1.30am and had two slices of bread and butter. Am grotesque. The only good thing to come from this is that I am now using the toilet regularly. When I say regularly, I mean like a dog with diarrhoea who's been force fed laxatives. Not such a pretty sight.
Had some porridge this morning, about 200 calories, which is ok. Going to try to eat "normally" today, no bingeing, even though I'm not in control of what we're eating, or when. One binge is enough for.. I was going to say two days, but, really, two months. Bah.
It's funny, I have little routines post-eating. I put on leggings immediately following it, perhaps even while I'm still stuffing my face, to comfort myself, and then I tend to go to bed. Next morning, I feel guilty as fuck: my face shows it, and so do the scales. Often my parents comment on me looking 'scared' the morning after - because I am, I'm absolutely terrified of having to put another spoonful or forkful or bite of anything in my mouth. I have an ice cold shower, half as a punishment but sort of to remind me of the feeling of cleanliness, and poke at my fat in the mirror for a while, until the fucked up part of my head has lost its voice from screaming at me. I put a baggy t-shirt, to hide any remaining bloatedness, but with my skinniest jeans instead of leggings, to remind me of what I want to be, what I need to be, and having the waistband not expanding (like the one on a pair of leggings would) stops me eating any more.