A balanced diet is a piece of chocolate cake in each hand

Right in front of me there is a cupcake.
A sweet sugary cupcake filled with calories and fat.
I want to dump it in the trash, but something is holding me back.


My mom baked that cupcake for me. She broke her back to bake me and T a basked full of delicious cupcakes. And besides, they look so pretty and innocent wrapped in transparent cellophane. I haven’t tasted them yet. I haven’t even liked the frosting off or eaten the marshmallow sprinkle. Yet. I haven’t done that because I know how weak I am, and I know if I eat one… It can only go down hill from there. God help me.

















I feel like crying -maybe even screaming. Not because of a stupid cupcake, but because of all that the cupcake stands for; Defeat, humiliation, weakness, self-loathing, hate, anger, pain and the fact that I have been beaten (yet again) by a cupcake?! The fact that I will never reach my goal and forever be the chunky girl with a pretty face haunts me in that cupcake. I have no clue why I feel so utterly frustrated with a cupcake. If I was a normal person I would have just eaten that silly cupcake and never given it another thought, but I am no ordinary person, I have an ED and she is forcing me to think about that SILLY STUPID CUPCAKE ALL FREAKING DAY LONG!!

Jez… I am so hungry right now.

All I have had yesterday and today is tree smoothies and a cherry. I am goanna binge soon… I feel it in my heart.