what really makes me angry

Overheard conversation from upstairs:
Craig (my brother): I did get Lindsay the right size of pants!
Trista (my sister-in-law): Well fine.
Mom: Well you know why. Lindsay's gained five pounds in the past few months.

GAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
(that is a scream of frustration resonating within me)

I am so angry about that! About the gaining of weight. I don't even really know how I let it happen... I guess I was just fascinated, wondering if I could keep gaining weight forever and hating myself for it. But now I don't know what to do. I don't want to go back. I want to keep moving forward. But not if it means gaining weight. I can't handle that.

I'm so redundant. I post ten million times about the same thing. But it's my blog so people can just deal with it. If I posted as many posts as all of the times I think about food or weight or any of that, this blog would be thousands and thousands of posts. It's like a sound loop in my head. It never rests. It just goes on.

I always used to liken an eating disorder to a lizard's tail. You cut it off and cut it off and cut it off. You think it's gone but it always grows back.

It gnaws on your brain; it feeds on your insecurities; it breeds on your distraction. If you forget it, just for a moment, it multiplies and multiplies.

I don't even remember what it was like to not obsess about eating. It feels as if I always have, even though I know that's not true.