Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Today is the day I stop eating meat. That's what I'm going to do first, just stop eating meat. Just wait, watch, listen, read... whatever. Just see, I'll probably try to turn myself into an anorexic. I'd rather be unhealthy and skinny, than unhealthy and fat. 

Eating breakfast quickens your metabolism, and helps you burn more calories. Ham or turkey on a sandwich for lunch. The idea of meat makes me want to gag right now. It's not about weight loss or being healthy right now, it's about animal rights.

The book I read about it in, I think I'll buy it. And carry it around. I'll mark the pages where the one supporting character describes the killing of animals, and every time I feel like eating I'll read it, and loose my appetite. I've never lost my appetite from something like this before. 

There were giant goldfish graham crackers that look like dog treats. Why do we feed animals crap food? We're animals too, by all technical accounts. 

And a Diet Dr. Pepper. They taste the same as regular, but with less calories and carbs, and more brain killing chemicals. The chemicals only kick in once you're 90 percent brain dead, and by that point is anyone really going to give a shit? 

For dinner I ate chicken, and then I read the part in the book about animals being killed.  

I think I'll give up eating.

In the book there's half a page where they list serial killers with partners. I looked them up. 

How does a sixteen year old girl weigh ninety pounds?

I'm going to stop eating processed foods. I want to be so skinny my hip bones pop out. They already do. My rib cage shows, it already does. The notches in my spine are visible, they already are. I want to be so skinny there isn't any fat on my stomach, or my hips that are designed for birthing, that hasn’t happened yet. 

One hundred and seventeen pounds. Used to be below average height. Below average weight. Above average intelligence. Now it's just average everything. 

Yesterday my mother apologized for not giving me her hips. She's skinnier that I am now, and she must bastardize me for not getting her hips. Rub in the fact that she's smaller. That I'm fatter. When the therapists ask why, I'll say her. And this is the woman I have to tolerate for six whole hours. Sometimes I think I'm an alien. I don't get along with women, yet I am one. A teenage one, but one none the less. 

The soda is making me sick. From now on, only water. My mother says water helps you loose weight. She's the nutritionist. 

What'll happen to business if her daughter is an anorexic?