Wednesday August 22, 2001.
I don't know how much I weigh today. I wish I had a scale.
I hate that I'm fat. I hate that I'm ugly. I really hate
myself. Why am I so fucking ugly?
I went to the Pen Centre with my daughter Heather. I tried
on a few dresses. I can actually cram by fat ugly body into
a size 16! I was really proud of myself.
I thought I was doing fine. But I guess not. I
don't know how skinny I'm supposed to be to satisfy him. I
think maybe I'll just keep dieting until I'm the size of a fashion model or something.
I wish I had the strength and perserverance to stick to an
annorexia diet. I wish I were annorexic then I could reach
my weight goal. I'd really love to weigh less than one
hundred pounds. I wish that were me. Bill would love me so
much more if I looked like a porno star I bet.
Why did he marry me if I look so disgusting to him?