The shit hit the fan

I had to delete my blog for a time, atm only 3 people can see it because I can only could get 3 emails of my followers. I'm trying hard to get in contact with them but it feels hopeless, everything feels hopeless.

I've never been through hell. Never, no purge or binge compares to having everything, every piece of your self laid bear to the people you'd never want to see such a site. 

My entire family found out about my ED. The day before my 21st birthday. 

(yay me what a present)

I was careless and left my blog to easily accessed on my computer. My father apparently told my cousin to snoop around because he was worried about me, and thus they found it all. 

Anorexia

Bulima

Depression

Self Injury

All lovely things I want my family to be in on. All the things they will see now when they look at me.

These are the only things they will see.

The chain continued, to my dad telling my mom, who proceeded to tell everyone else and their mother...literally. My best friend (who I had not told yet) got a call from my mom, but her mother got to it first. Luckily I was able to go and break the news my self before my mother did. 

That hurt so much because I wanted to be that person, I wanted to do it at my own time, when I was comfortable. She's my best friend but I never wanted her to worry, I never wanted anyone to worry or know. I like to deal with my problems on my own.

My cousin even sent the link to my blog to my mom. She called up my ex asking about it and even tried to send him the link.

I've been so scared to write. This was my only outlet. I felt safe, it was routine, and it was all taken away in less than a day.

That morning I was thrilled to get up and get on my scale, and then come report my progress. I had made it down to 86lbs for my birthday. I'm back up to 88lbs due to some B/P, from stress.

I can't eat in front of any of them. I feel ashamed. I feel betrayed. I feel like I'm being watched.I tried to eat but my father would walk in the room and I tossed it away and hid that I had food in my mouth like it was a sin. People keep saying I love you to me like I'm on my death bed. Its not that serious. Everything is just stressing me out more than I need.

They want to take me to the doctors, they want recovery, they want they want they want...

What do I want?

Does it matter?

I was considering therapy but if things are not at m pace, I can get very spiteful, I won't do anything. I'm not ready and hell or high water will not change that until I am ready.

Give me strength because I'm falling apart at the seam. 

Worst birthday ever.

I enjoyed only spending time with my friends. Everything else...

FML