Ana needs to get me back on track. I’ve been home for a week and I bet I’ve packed on ten pounds. Disgusting sack of garbage. Somebody should yank my hair out and black my eyes.

I’ve been drinking SODA. Gross. I’m such shit. Every sip of soda makes me fat and useless. I bet I’ve packed on ten pounds. I should bite my tongue so hard that I can never taste again. No more soda.

Food. I’ve been eating food again. Heavy, cooked, greasy food. It’s all gone straight to my gut. So stupid. I deserve to be beaten. I deserve to be killed. For a 5’2 girl to be so fat is inexcusable. THERE IS NO EXCUSE.

Ana… help me.

I went shopping today. Really, all I needed was some make-up - liner, mascara, some shadow, the basics - but my gut told me to go and just CHECK at Aeropostale. They had some shorts for 50% off. I’ve been looking for a pair of black shorts for quite some time. A photographer friend of mine has an idea involving them and Hello Kitty, but I can’t tell you more than that! Sorry, lovelies!

The only size they had in black was size 0. Zero. Nothing. I thought “no way, I’m way too fat” initially. But then another voice popped in. A prettier voice. A NICER voice. It said “Try them on - I think you’ll be surprised.”

So I did. AND THEY FIT. I got them. I HAD to get them!! It makes me so happy. Once again, I’m at home in a size 0. Ana still loves me after all! I’m gonna work extra-hard tonight and do plenty of crunches.

Ana still loves me. So I love me too.

And I didn’t even purge.

Ass. Pig. Cunt. Whore.

Snuffle in your trough, you worthless piece of shit. Rip your hair out, bite your tongue until it bleeds. Smack your head with anything sharp and heavy.

You ruin everybody’s day, you fat MOUTH. Yes, that’s all you are. You’re a MOUTH, just begging to have disgusting food shoveled in it. Everyone hates you. No one respects you. You’re a pile of trash, with little bits of food mixed in. You’ll never be loved. Because you’re not worth the time it takes to do anything but beat you.

Go ahead, pig. Hate yourself. It saves everyone else the trouble. They all hate you anyway. You’re shit. You’re waste. You’re not worth the air you breathe.

So today you ate FIVE cherry tomatoes. You gobbled them down in one bite. In front of your parents too. You stupid pile of crap. I hope you ENJOYED them, little piggy. Because your trough will stand empty until Ana says you get a scrap or two. Enjoy your empty trough, pig-ass. Enjoy finding new ways to hurt yourself.

Ana wishes your ex HAD hit you. If he had just beat you like a normal abusive boyfriend, maybe people would BELIEVE he was abusive. But you let his WORDS get to you, you stupid freak. He had every right to control you. Because you LET him. It wouldn’t have taken terribly long to get him to hit you. Maybe he would have even gotten something heavy and beat your fucking face in until nobody even knew it was the little piggy anymore! Like a baseball bat. You deserve that. Knock all your ugly, yellow teeth out. Bash in your ugly, beaky nose. Rip all your disgusting, shit-brown hair out. Make you as ugly as you really are.

So Ana hopes you really liked how those five cherry tomatoes tasted. She hopes you enjoyed chugging down all that Peach Crush. There’s 180 calories in one can of that. You know what? You deserve extra punishment, so we’re rounding that up to TWO HUNDRED. Every SIP of that sugary soda, you’re putting ugly fat on your nasty body. Enjoy those last sips of that warm can on the nightstand. Because you’re not allowed to sip anymore. You’ll drink water until you can’t feel your fat face anymore.

Have a nice day, you walloping pile of greasy, dirty pig shit.

You wouldn’t think a 65-pound pit-bull/crack-baby mix would take up this much space! He’s got the whole queen-size bed to stretch out in! But no! He has to squish up close to the side of the bed… Naturally, the side I happen to be sleeping on, crowding me to the very, very edge. And of course, he’s sleeping ON the blankets.

This fuzzy little fucker is SO lucky he’s cute… I love my baby!

So Ana hurts me. I get a slap to the face every time I look at a picture of food on Tumblr. Then she makes me look again, so she can then hit me with whatever is handy. A remote control, a ring of keys, a high-heeled shoe… If I’m not actively in pain, I haven’t been punished enough.

I have eaten a whopping 425 calories today. MyFitnessPal says I’ve earned 67 calories from exercise. Ana says one, that’s not good enough, and two, it doesn’t count. Burned or not, I still shoveled the food into the piggy, piggy mouth. So she makes me bite my tongue. Right now, she’s telling me I should put sriracha sauce on my tongue and sit there with it until I can’t taste until next Tuesday.

Even being sick doesn’t make me look skinny. I look PUFFY, CHUBBY, and SWOLLEN. Baggies under my eyes, a belly that was a lot smaller yesterday, fluffy face. That nasty, fatty face deserves to have hand prints all over it. From slaps, even punches. A piggy face like mine is fit for nothing but bruises.

I don’t even deserve to be sick. Just a little baby snotrag. Disgusting little cumdumpster. Dried-out, used-up little pussy. Every other week this semester, I’ve had something to whine and whimper about. Stomach bug, respiratory funk, snotty nose, scratchy throat… What I SHOULD have is someone to beat the ever-loving shit out of me. Crack my head on the counters and floor, twist my arms and wrists until they snap and pop, slap and punch my face until it’s nothing but bruises and blood, yank out huge clumps of my hair.

I don’t deserve to cry unless there’s REALLY something to cry about.

44 calories the way I make it.

Gotta preserve my voice.

Time to start making tea.

Had a damn cold since yesterday. Can’t stop sneezing and coughing. Stuffy nose, RUNNY nose, sore throat, and general allover body aches.

I need warm liquids and NyQuil.

Are there calories in NyQuil?

Garbage. Fat, stupid, disgusting garbage with a used-up cunt. That’s what Ana called me today. No better than a broken sex toy or a used condom. Slut. Dumb bitch. Trashy old whore.

Because my net intake today is 816.

She tells me somebody should take a baseball bat and beat my fat face in until I stop breathing. They should break every bone in my face. Break my ribs. Make sure I won’t ever get up. Because worthless little worms like me don’t deserve to live. Horrible loose-pussy skanks like me deserve to die in the most brutal way possible.

Ana tells me I shouldn’t even be raped to death because I would like it. I don’t deserve even the least kindness. I am trash. To be shredded and dropped in the street. I should have my tongue burned or have my butter-fat face smashed into hot stove. Obviously, I can’t help turning the stupid thing on to cook FOOD.

Instead of putting my finger down my throat to throw up, she says I should just take my whore-long fingernails and rip the inside of my mouth and throat to shreds. Take laxatives until I die of dehydration. Because that’s what useless mounds of fat like me deserve.

Ana only tells me what I need to be perfect. She’ll compliment me when I deserve it. Oh, but wait… I’ll never deserve it.

If there is a moment today that my lips and tongue don’t burn of sriracha sauce, I’ll add another drop. If I so much as think of trying to eat food or drink something to make the pain stop, I’ll add another drop.

I have to sing for one of my classes and an opera audition at 2:30. Those are the ONLY moments it is acceptable not to burn.

Every other second of today, Ana will make sure she knows how I feel about every nasty bite I shoveled into my greasy mouth this weekend. Pig. Cunt. Whore. Trash. She’ll keep calling me every horrible thing to call a woman. But it’s important that she does. Because she wants me to be perfect. And I want to be perfect.

I ate so much this weekend. Not even detailing it. Ana is going to punish me. No more than 200 calories a day this week. Stupid whore. Fat cunt. She calls me the worst things, but she does it because she loves me. She wants me to do better.

Tomorrow’s lunch is pure punishment. Tofu dog + Japanese omelet, turkey rollups, carrots, and tofu+mushrooms. Every bite must have sriracha sauce on it. It has to HURT to put food on my lips. It has to burn my tongue. It has to cause me to gag and cough because it’s painfully hot.

Ana forgives, but Ana punishes.