tired

I'm giving up the gym.  Which i know sounds completely horrible and lazy and i hate myself for it for those reasons exactly but i need to.  I'm so tired.  I am nineteen years old and exhausted.  I feel like i'm in my mid forties most of the time, just waiting until i run out of time, wondering how long i can keep this up.  Essentially, for the past 5 months i have gone at least an hour on the elliptical every day, usually more than an hour.  Every day, or almost anyways, no gym is open on christmas and i've been sick/just didn't go some days, but for the most part...every day, 150 days, 150 hours, god knows how many miles, and i am tired.  I love the feeling after i get done at the gym, the one where i feel invincible and tough and skinny and enviable.  I'd kill to have that feeling.  No really, i do kill to have that feeling, i kill myself.  My leg muscles are hard as a rock but my knees and ankles creak and hurt.  My stomach is firm and my arms are toned but my mind is in chaos all the time.  i eat almost 4000 calories a day and for my anorexic mind- that is inexcusable.  Even if i should burn 5000 a day, i should only eat 2000.  No matter how much i exercise, there is no excuse for eating over 3000 calories.  It's exhausting trying to be perfect all the time.  To never talk too much, feel too much, show too much, to have a body that i can compare with all those i see around me and not want to throw myself out of the window because i can't measure up, or at least know i'm a good week of exercise and fasting away from achieving.  i weigh 119 pounds.  i will always want to weigh 95 again.  not because of how i looked, i still thought i was fat back then.  and not because of how i felt- i wanted to kill myself on a daily basis.  but because of the achievement.  Everyone wants to lose weight right?  Everyone compliments you when you lose weight, when you're losing weight, etc.  People might make fun of you for not eating or exercising too much, but really- they're jealous.  Right?  I once weighed 95 pounds.  I once saw 95 on the scales and i am proud of that.  I starved myself out of 35 pounds of healthiness to get to that weight so i better damn well be proud. I went completely insane, tore my family apart, lost my mind, and have never really recovered and i am proud?.  I once weighed 150 pounds too.  Right after weighing 95.  That's right, i put on 55 pounds in less than a year, a lot less than a year if i remember right which god knows if i do because all those horrible days just run together in my mind anymore marked by that one day when they switched over from starving myself to the point of insanity to eating myself into an oblivion day in and day out- all the while just wanting to die.  I am not proud of gaining 55 pounds.  I hate how i looked.  I don't remember how i felt exactly, but you know what's funny.  I can remember time after time of being on the brink of complete insanity like certifiable, almost kicking out car windows to avoid hospitalization, huddled in a corner behind a chair, rocking back and forth sobbing, contemplating drinking cleaning solution just so it would end insanity when i was 95 pounds.  And that continued throughout the gaining process, but i dont remember being that crazy when i was fat.  Granted, that could be because i was on depression meds and actually had a social life (i gave up my isolating homeschooling ways for private school for my sophomore and junior years in highschool).  I dont think i felt much of anything.  So i went off them.  Cold turkey.  Bad idea.  Lost a lot of weight, new life in college, but i was really depressed.  Or moody or bi-polar or whatever the hell my type of crazy actually is.  Then freshman year ended.  Summer sucked.  Alone, all the time.  Nothing but food and a houseful of memories.  No friends.  Some work (my only saving grace) but mostly- nothing.  Then sophomore year.  Bad year.  Broken foot.  Triple with two of my best friends (neither of which i really talk to anymore).  Broken heart (i was the dreaded other woman). Almost lost everything.  Summer- spain.  Better, but not right.  Free.  Learned a lot.  Homesick.  Really really homesick.  Went home.  homesick- different kind.  hate home.  school.  Junior year.  New roomate.  The boys.  Boyfriend.  Thus far- the only drawback to this year has been me.  My mind.  My insanity.  My food and exercise and perfection addiction.  And i'm tired.  I am so goddamn tired.  I can't fight anymore.  Everyday, i fight my mind in a constant battle of what i should or shouldn't do, should i eat this, if i eat this will it throw me into a panic attack, if i don't will i have a panic attack, do i want this, can i fit the gym in, when can i fit the gym in, i don't want to go today, i have to go today, i hate myself.  I hate myself for loving myself.  I spend a good couple of hours a day looking at myself in the mirror.  I have to be perfect.  No flab anywhere.  I have to look like jennifer aniston.  How does she look like jennifer anniston.  fuck, how does jennifer aniston look like jennifer aniston.  fucky my life.  no one would be friends with you if you weren't perfect michelle.  you're not allowed to be cranky or whiny or fat.  you have to earn their friendship.  you have to earn it.  I am goddamn tired of earning it.  What's wrong with just me?  What would i be without the gym and without the perfect body and what would they do if i was crying and crazy and me?  Am i worth anything?  Could anyone love me?  Could i love me?  I've been running this same routine all my life err at least the last 9 years of it and i'm tired.  I feel like if i had a short term goal i could stay sane.  Like movie stars, how they get in shape for an upcoming movie or the oscars but then they back down on the hardcore workouts.  Or athletes that train in season but then take the time inbetween seasons off to recoop.  I don't recoop.  There is no end in sight.  This is my life.  I'm not training for anything, i just do.  I don't want to wear myself out before i'm 20 but after spending last weekend completely off the deep end, psychologically comatose in my shower for two hours, my boyfriend fighting my crazies, my parents and my boyfriend having an intervention for me.  I'm done.  counseling on tuesday.  but when did i ever listen to counselors?  I'll give him a chance.  But i have to do something for myself, and while i hate that i'm choosing the most lazy thing of all...i have to give up the gym.  No more hour every day.  I'm too tired.  I need to figure out who i am without the gym, without HAVING to go the gym every day, without the perfect body.  Am i anything?  Will my life still go on?  Can i forgive myself for eating even if i don't exercise?  I measure my days (eating wise) by when i exercise.  Any food i have after i exercise counts for the next day.  it doesnt matter when i go to bed or when iw ake up.  That' just how it works.  Fuck me.  I'm tired.  And this will drive me crazy but maybe it will be one of those crazies that get better after a couple of weeks (omigod, no gym for a couple of weeks???? i'll lost all my muscle! i'll be a fat blob! you lazy cunt!) i hate ana (my nickname for the voice in my head that goes along with anorexia).  This is how i will fight her.  This is how i will kill her.  this is how i will find me.  I need to make peace with food.  I need to stop looking at it as anything that what it is- nourishment.  It is not a happy pill, it is not my worst enemy.  I need to stop restricting myself so much (i havent had a "normal" meal in god knows how long.  I only allow myself diet meals, wheat bread, fruit, yogurt, starbucks frappuccino LIGHTS, protein bars,and massive amounts of gum, gatorade, and diet soda).  I need to be able to eat a freakin chicken sandwhich without freaking out.  Ok, maybe i need to stop focusing on what i think i NEED so much and just chill, let it happen, not be so desperate.  Life isn't supposed to be so stressful, at least not about the minute things like a slice of pizza.  Ugh, this is going to be interesting. I'm definitely gonna need help on this one.  I hope my boyfriend will still be there to help me through this no matter how crazy i get in the midst of it. God i love him.