9781422288429

May 1, 2003

Dear Diary,

I can’t believe I did it again. I promised I wouldn’t. I told myself I could handle it. I said I’d get out of the house or go for a run or chew gum or do something else if I felt bad. This was supposed to be my chance to start over. You know, the first day toward a brand new me. So much for new beginnings. I don’t know what happened. The day started so well. I got up really early, went for a jog, showered, and even ate a good breakfast (just a cup of yogurt, some strawberries, and a muffin)—all before I had to leave for school at 7:15 A.M. I felt so energetic; I even stayed awake through Ancient History, my third-period class. By fifth period I started to feel hungry, but I skipped lunch and felt good about resisting today’s pizza special. Everything was going great. I even began to hope that maybe I’d finally be able to beat this food thing once and for all. Maybe I didn’t really have to be fat for the rest of my life. Maybe I could lose ten pounds by summer. Then that Tony Penella had to go and say something: “Hey Blubber Butt! Got some Jell-O to go with that jiggle?” Right in front of the whole seventh-period class! My face flushed, and I felt like dying of embarrassment, but I did my best to ignore him. That was my one small victory today. I ignored Tony and didn’t cry. I really wanted to scream or punch him or something. But I didn’t. I was so angry, though. As soon as I got home I ate everything I could get my hands on: a whole package of chocolate chip cookies; a pint of tin roof sundae; two English muffins; celery and peanut butter; half of a bag of pretzels. I couldn’t stop myself. I just stuffed and stuffed and stuffed myself until I felt so full I thought I’d explode. At least there wasn’t any candy in the house; I would’ve eaten that, too. But I felt better; I wasn’t so mad anymore. Eating’s funny that way; it’s weird how it makes me feel better for a while. The good feelings don’t last though; I just start to feel lousy about myself again. And fat. Always fat. How can food be my worst enemy and my best friend? What’s wrong with me, Diary? Why can’t I quit eating like this? I was okay until Tony opened his big mouth. Why do I eat when I’m mad or sad? Why do I feel

10 / Emotions & Eating