Monday's are shit

I have so much school work to do, so naturally this is going to be a long rambling post.

Today was complete shit.
I woke up feeling pretty bad after taking seven laxatives last night. I then weighed myself and I've gained 1.4lbs since last week.
I got back into bed and cried for a few hours. I didn't go to school. I couldn't move. I'm going to fail all my subjects because I keep skipping classes, but I just couldn't face anyone, I felt too large to even fit out of the door.
I've started self harming badly again. Last night I went on a late night walk to buy some 'emergency blades' because I dropped mine down the back of a chest of drawers the other day and I can't find it. I cut both arms last night, and cut again this morning, deep cuts. Much deeper than normal.

I wasn't hungry, I felt like anything I ate would make me gain even more. I remember getting a glass of diet coke, and my dad asking if I was okay but I didn't answer, I just shut myself in the bathroom and cried on the floor for ages.
Then my appetite switched, I ate, and ate, and ate, and purged. Purged a lot.
I was almost late to my GP appointment because I was purging until the last possible moment when I had to leave.
In my appointment he looked at the diary of when I cut, purge or abuse laxatives (he asked me to make it so he can see what triggers it and how severe it is); he said it was worse than he expected and commented on the blank period when I was in London. I explained I was with my sister, so he was like "oh so you were happy then and didn't need to do anything", when I replied with "no, I wanted to but her bathroom wall was too thin to purge" he looked really worried. He went off to photocopy the diary page, and when he was gone I started crying, I thought I'd composed myself by the time he got back. He said it seemed triggered by stress and anxiety and said at my mental health assessment thing next week they might give me some anti-anxiety medication to help. He still hasn't made any link between purging and weight loss. Something only a male doctor could ever miss, but I'm glad; I'm not ready to give this weight loss journey up yet.
I was fighting back tears when I left, and I had to go to the doctor surgery toilets to have a mini breakdown because I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. It took me about fifteen minutes to compose myself enough to leave and make my next appointment at reception.

Then a few hours later after I'd finally calmed down and felt okay about everything he rung me on my house phone!! And my mum picked up. She came up to my room, and just said "the doctor's on the phone" in a really suspicious voice. And of course when I went downstairs to talk to him my dad didn't leave the room so I had to reply to everything in one word inconspicuous answers.
According to my doctor I looked a little 'down' when I left, and he said he realised he hadn't said anywhere near enough to me, and the thought of me waiting another week until my assessment scared him, so he's made me another appointment with him on Wednesday so he can make sure I'm actually okay. I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm going to kill myself and he's scared he'll get sued.
So after the phone call I basically ran upstairs and ran a bath to give myself time to come up with an excuse to tell my parents. After half an hour of crying uncontrollably in the bathroom I went downstairs and they didn't even ask. My parents had completely forgotten.
So I ate three bites of dinner, threw the rest in the bin.
And here I am, terrified, confused, relieved, hurt, glad, sad?  I don't even know anymore.

Sorry that was such a ramble. Also sorry I've been such a bad commenter recently, I have been reading, I just feel like I've forgotten how to talk to people, I never know what to say. But I love you all, and I'm so sorry if I've neglected anyone lately.