Troll Bogies

Harry Potter marathon + tea + exercise = pleasure + pain

I was not allowed to check in to treatment today for arriving late from the DPSS office.  I was seen as "being disrespectful" and "giving attitude".  I couldn't care less what the staff think; I just hope my insurance company doesn't fuck me over for prioritizing.  
So I got back home with a strong urge to binge and purge.  After all, I received an EBT card today.  I don't have to feel as bad about binging since I'm technically using my own money.  I fantasized about having my 2nd final hurrah with ED ever since I became abstinent.  However, instead of binging and purging I exercised.  Nothing intense...I think. But it was compulsive.  Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone was playing while I sipped tea and did crunches and ass exercises.  Surprisingly, I ate dinner but not according to my meal plan.  Why am I confessing my behaviors on this blog?  Don't I fear being held accountable?  Yes I do, but my fingers are typing on their own and I'm too lazy to delete it.
I wish my life was like Harry Potter's.  Own a sweet pet owl, fly around in a broom stick, and kiss Hermione Granger.  

Anyway, I'm going to be home alone for several hours because my boyfriend has lots of things to take care of tonight.  Binging is still on my mind.  What's stopping me?  It's not having to restart my abstinent count-up; it's not the feeling of guilt that should follow a slip-up; it's the disappointed look I will receive from my boyfriend, which will be followed by feelings of incompetence, shame, hopelessness.  Hopeless about our relationship moving forward and no longer remaining stagnant.  Shameful about being a shitty girlfriend.  Incompetent about being a shameful, hopeless, self-loathing human being.  Guilt is my driving force, and I hate it.  It's too much pressure, too much frustration.  I feel pathetic.  I don't want pity or sympathy.  I just want to put my thoughts into words in hopes of lighting some kind of fire under my ass to do something about it.  But I'm trying my best.  At least, I think I am.  I'm attending treatment everyday (with the exception of today, but today doesn't count because I had a forgivable reason), participating to the best of my abilities, saying positive self-affirmations, using coping tools, and all those other therapeutic hoo-has.  They don't seem to be working.  So I tell myself to be patient and remind myself, "progress, not perfection".  



Boredom
kills.