My stepdad and my mom had a massive, overdue fight this evening, complete with excessive use of the word "fuck" for my ten year old brother to hear. As I crouched on my floor in a ball crying, I figured this tense situation would be ideal for getting myself back on track. Tension and stress at home was pretty much how my anorexia started six years ago anyway. My fucking stepdad, the alcoholic dimwit. So, what does my mom do, but take us to her friend's house, where her friend feeds us all dinner. Except she knows I dont eat, so she gives me a bowl of fruit salad, which I eat for no reason. We go home in a few hours and I eat some cooked broccoli. Weigh myself. A few lbs up from this morning. Take twenty or so laxatives because it's all I have left and don't want to waste the money tonight, don't have the spirit in me to go buy more. Twenty isn't enough anymore. I have to take way more than that most days, but what the hell. Maybe they'll work anyway in conjunction with all the fiber from the fruit. What do you guys think? I really hope so. I need to be cleaned out by tomorrow so I can start fresh again, use the painful experience of a miserable family situation to spark my illness again. It's all I have. It's all I want. I have no one but myself and my illness.