Lousy

I feel pretty lousy. I've gained, I guess you could say. I haven't lost much in the first place. Either way, I suck.
I've been binging pretty much non-stop since Wednesday, when my dad pitched a fairly big fit about me not going to class. I spent an hour and a half in my school councilor's office sobbing while my father went on about everything that's wrong about me.
I've been cutting a lot lately. It's very strange to be back to that old habit. I love it, honestly. I've been cutting on my arms. It's not just one or two cuts here and there. No, it's a full on ravaging of my flesh. Last night I cut about 15 times in a two inch square area, plus a few on my hands. It's strange because I never used to cut on my arms. If I did, it was very little and not very deep. I used to cut on my legs because no one would see them. I was ashamed before. I'm still ashamed, in a way, but I don't really care what people think of me anymore. Honestly, if someone notices my arm, I'm grateful for the attention. So far, not many people have pointed it out. I wonder if they even care.

I'm afraid to weigh myself. I've been weighing with clothes on because that way I can convince myself it's just the clothes that are adding that extra six pounds, not the crappy food in my stomach.

Yeah, I'm pretty much hating myself at the moment.