Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Thoughts on moving.

I ended my fast at I think, 26 hours.
I'm eating more for fear of my binge disorder coming back. The longer I starve, the more likely I'll binge.
I've worked so, so hard to get to a point where I'm only eating when I'm hungry and stopping before I'm full. Every day that goes by without a binge seems like a miracle.
I honestly can't remember the last day I binged.
When I started, I never thought I could get through two days in a row without binge eating.
Now most days I lose weight instead of gaining. I'm still mostly maintaining but the weight is very slowly, painfully dropping.
I lost four pounds over my fast I think.

I haven't seen my dog in six months now. I never, NEVER thought it would be that long.
X and I were told by his mother that they'd be paying for a deposit, and that they'd already found a place for us, and that X was guaranteed an interview at his dad's work.
It was all a lie to bring X close enough that they could manipulate him. He hates them.

But they finally found a little house for themselves with a bit of land. If we can find a nice enough trailer we'll come with.
It would be so nice to have my own bathroom again.
I think I'd live in a shitty one with just a bed and a bathroom if I could just get out of here to begin with.
These people are insane and thrive off of drama.
I'm having episodes of agoraphobia where I can't leave my room because I'm trying so hard to avoid them.
People are so shit.

I just want my dog back. He'll never stop loving me. I think that's probably the appeal.
That and he's big enough to scare the shit out of people.

I want another dog. Maybe.

I can't touch my cat anymore because I found out I'm allergic to her. So... I'm a bit lonely. Not that cats are that great of company anyways.

I just want some fucking privacy again. I want to be able to sneeze without the whole house hearing.

I can't believe I'm going to be 24 this year.
This blog is old.

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

I don't want to be sick.

I've watched and read so many pro-ana works, but nothing triggered me as much as Cassie from Skins.
I stopped eating for 8 hours, then forgot and had a few candies, then haven't eaten for 9 hours on.
I haven't slept in probably 30 hours.
The thing Cassie says about stopping eating every time she feels bad about something...
My bf has been beside me on the bed all day and night and hasn't said or noticed anything. But that just means I can get away with it longer.

I wish I had something to go back to from this relationship. He's not terrible, he's just not... Effy and Freddie. He's not gentle, sweet, caring etc.
I'm afraid that I'm staying in a relationship that won't last. I don't see how it could.
I'm already tired. I haven't felt excitement since the first month or so. It's been a year and a half.
Am I supposed to feel soul crushing love or is better not to? Is it normal not to?
I'm worried if I marry him, it will just end in horrific heartbreak.
During arguments he turns mean. Not abusive, just like... like he knows the absolute most soul crushing thing to say during an argument, just to be vindictive.
I don't feel... happy.
I think every day about leaving. But I know I never will.
I'm such a coward.

But pushing the limit of my body feels good in some weird dark way.
I keep thinking of ways to self harm that can be passed off as accidents. I thought about learning to skateboard so that I have a legitimate reason to be bleeding everywhere.
I thought about passing a piercing needle through a tiny part of my skin so it's almost too small to see, and easy to pass off as an accident.
I've started keeping track of how long it takes between feedings. Like, last time I ate, and then the time I ate so I can keep track of my small victories. Maybe the point is to keep beating my record.
I'm so tired but I don't want to go to sleep. The longer I feel hungry for, the more high I feel. It's not a very good high but... as much as I can get right now.

I feel like, realistically, convincing myself I'm suicidal will save me so much pain in the long run.
Life is so much pain...

I wonder how much I'll weigh in the morning.

I want to be sick.

I don't want to be sick.

I want to be sick.

Monday, January 30, 2017

Feeling a bit weird

I feel like I might be losing it.
Like some demented part of my subconscious has broken off and is playing games with me without my consent.

I probably just need to get glasses to stop the world from spinning.

Reading a book about a girl who needs a psychologist has left my dreams a little dark.
A dream about my dead sister decomposing has left me wondering if I ever dealt with those feelings in the first place.
Last night I dreamed I was in a small house with a bunch of other homeless girls and we were all smoking weed. I've never had the chance to try it yet, but I do want to get high...
I hope my brain gets it's shit together soon.
I'm getting a little unnerved by my own consciousness.

On another note, I lost five pounds.
Got to a weight I haven't been at since September.
Fingers crossed whatever I've been doing sticks and I get even lower.

It's strange that my subconscious picks now to take a dip in the dark end. Everything is actually alright right now.
Maybe my life is finally stable enough for my coping to go on a shelf while my unresolved shit takes a turn in the front seat.
Maybe my coping is malfunctioning and things aren't as good as I've led myself to believe.
Things just got abstract...

But I'm actually having a good day.
Going to see that new mythical beasts movie in theaters later with my boyfriend- hopefully.

Sunday, November 20, 2016


I'm always wondering if this is really the real me.
I have a plan. Lose weight, Get married. Have babies. But I think my worst fear is that I will never be skinny.
I remember how dark it was when I was at my lowest weight. In pictures I looked underweight even though I wasn't even close. I looked beautiful. I even remember through all of the horrible shit that was happening to me at the time that I was happy in my own body. I know I would be again.
I have to get there.
It kills me that I'm not there now.

I'm never even really sure I want that life- married with kids.
I don't want to miss out on it, but I'm not sure I actually want it either.
But that's what normal healthy people do.
I just wish I didn't have to be healthy for my relationship.
I sometimes wish my partner was just as interested in all of that other shit as me.

I dyed my hair back to brown. At first I liked it. It didn't take long to change my mind.
I miss the silver with blue and green and pink streaks. I miss how long it was. I made a mistake with my hair and had to cut it.
It feels like I lost my freedom. Having short hair marked the worst years of my life. I hated it then. There's something so freeing about having hair down to your butt. The kind everyone envies no matter how fat you are.

Before my birthday last month I mentioned very briefly that maybe I should get a tattoo for my birthday and my bf's sister was like, "I want a tattoo!" And started talking about where she would get it and money and it just shut me down. She has three huge ones already and I feel like something that should excite me is now poisoned.

How hard would it have been to just not think about herself for once?

I know my hatred for her is stupid but it's hard not to feel jealous when everyone around her jumps through hoops to make her happy even though she's a shitty person. Whereas my family doesn't even acknowledge my existence.

When I had to terminate my pregnancy earlier this year, my partner was so worked up about how stressful it was for him that I felt as if I was on my own through all of it. His mom kept telling me that she didn't think I could handle it and my mom proceeded to tell me how she heard the voice of a little girl telling her to save her from me. Yeah.

Why is it so hard to find good support?

Anyways. I'm going to sip some wine and see if I can get back to sleep...

Sunday, November 13, 2016

Fucking mad

I forgot I even had this blog as an outlet until a comment showed up in my email saying someone was still listening.

I'm not better. Not feeling better in any way. I haven't lost any weight.
I'm at a point in my relationship that I wish I was rich so I could leave.
I'm aware I'm mostly staying because I don't want to go back to Hell. I don't care. I'm determined to survive.

He's an asshole.
I don't know what else to say besides that. He's got anger issues that he needs therapy for but won't go. I'm the emotional punching bag.

I don't understand how people can love you and still treat you like shit at the same time. I will never understand that.

I'm tired of his family. His mom is a compulsive liar or something like that. Emulates empathy and love. I don't think she can actually feel anything for anyone but herself.

I'm tired of cabin fever. I never learned to drive.
Imagine being locked in your bedroom for a day. Then a week. Then a month. A year. Until you are 25, 30, 40, 60. Until you die. Imagine being locked inside of your own body.

I feel like I have no control over my life any more. I want loads of space from fucking everybody. But I share a room with someone who is emotionally abusive and has too much pride to ever admit anything. I want to cut but I'm terrified he'll go into a rage if he finds out.

I have to go before he reads this.

Friday, September 9, 2016

2:13 am Friday, September 9, 2016

It's been a long time. For a while I was so self conscious about how pathetic and whiny my posts are that I made it private but now anyone can see. I want it that way. I don't want to silence myself.

What do I even update for everyone? How do I know there is anyone there to even update?

I'm at my highest weight ever.

I can't say anything more devastating than that.

For once, there are good things happening in my life, but as is the nature of my illness, I can't see anything past my own insecurities. My weight. It's like the fat on my body darkens every good thing around me. It cloaks me from good fortune, and I can only see the world around me through my fat colored lenses.

I wish I could be happy. I wish I could convince myself that weight isn't everything. That I can be happy and fat. Trying to convince myself that is a battle everyday. It seems I can't even sway my own mind. I'm not happy.

What's so wrong with that? Would it really be healthy to be content with an overweight body? Technically I'm obese. How can that be a good thing?

I'm so ashamed I can't even share my weight. I know I'm anonymous. I still can't.

I'm no longer at my parents' house.

My bf and I moved in with his parents temporarily until we can find a place.

We've been together over a year.

The thing I'm scared to say, even to myself: I'm still not sure we'll work out. I hope we do.

There are no insects here. We have good internet and a tv hooked up with actual channels. I feel connected again.

I miss my dog but we'll soon be reconnected. I hope.

In December, the bf's parents will be buying land, and they want to give us several acres to build on.

We live less than an hour from the coast and they keep trying to get me to go with them for a day on the beach. I don't want to go because of my body.

The sister who lives here has everything and it hurts so bad to even look at her that I avoid her. I hope she doesn't notice.

Sometimes at night before bed, she walks around in her underwear. She is so skinny I can't even breathe. She's going to the Bahama's in December with her best friend who is a guy. He's in love with her, but she won't date him. Then next year, he's taking her to Ireland. It's hard not to hate her.

I'm putting my whole life on hold because of my weight. Sometimes I'm terrified I'll be fat for the rest of my life and miss out on everything, but at the same time I feel like I can never truly enjoy myself while I look like this.

My bf wants to propose and we want to get married but I told him I can't get married like this. I can't look back on my wedding forever and see myself in a plus size dress. I can't.

I want children before too long. I had an abortion earlier this year. It was unavoidable. I'd been taking a medication that had too high of a chance of deformation or death for the baby. Besides that, I was unable to get on insurance and we were living in a tackle room off a garage and including the abusive environment my family created, it was no place to have a child.

I am also aware that at this weight, the risk of complications are significantly raised. I can't have kids until I lose weight.

I have to admit this dark thing inside me- When I found out I was pregnant, all I could think of was this friend I had who was so fat you couldn't even tell she was pregnant, right up until she had her baby. That terrifies me. Maybe I could live with the weight gain if I was already at a healthy weight. I don't know.

So I guess I'm getting back on this blog again so I can say all of the things I can't say to people in real life.

I'm going to try and lose weight again and post my progress on here. If there is any.

Maybe I will reveal my high weight later. For now, I'm just going to get some coffee and relax.

Saturday, February 27, 2016

Me posting depressing shit again...

Sorry about the long vacation guys. I wish it was a vacation...
I feel like I'm reliving a nightmare again. Every relationship is the same for me.
It starts out nice enough. Then after a few months it goes wrong slowly at first, then it speeds up.
When I dream, all of my ex's mesh together. My bf hasn't even made it into my subconscious. Last night I dreamed I was staying with some relatives and I was talking about how I'd be married soon, but when they asked me who it was I couldn't remember. I kept searching for a name or a face and coming up blank. I find it a bit disconcerting.
I'm finding myself more and more disenchanted with my bf. Lately I've started to wonder if I still love him, or maybe if I ever loved him.

The other night I had this horrible panic attack and like always, he just sat there through the entire thing. He didn't say anything, or move, or look at me. Of course I was so hurt I lashed out like I always do.
"Am I just not worth comforting?"
"Do you not love me?"
He's always done this. I don't know why I thought it would ever change. It's been six months. Nothing has changed.
Then when I'm starting to feel as though everything is hopeless, he starts crying. Sobbing. Shaking.
What am I supposed to do then?
At first when he would do this I would comfort him, and we would go to bed and I would just shove back all of the feelings that never got resolved. But this time, I just couldn't. I couldn't break out of my own panic attack to comfort his little breakdown. I just couldn't.
I just wanted to be comforted.
Usually I panic for a few hours and then when I'm completely broken down sobbing he tries to pull me in for a hug and I won't let him. Because it feels insincere.
Sometimes I ask him if it's only possible to comfort me when I'm sobbing. He doesn't really have an answer.
I feel angry that he has to make it about him when I need him the most. Maybe I should feel guilty but I don't.
This lasted all fucking night. I couldn't deal with it. I took 7 hydroxyzine and went to bed. I slept for the most part of two days, and now I just wish it would have lasted longer.
I'm suicidal again.
I feel as if I am in another bad relationship.
I had such high hopes for him.
(Is something wrong with me???)
I think I might actually die here at my parent's house. I'm depressed enough now.
Every time I try and bring up how depressed I am, he turns the conversation around to himself and how depressed he is. But I'm the cause of his depression.
God I suck at relationships. Or maybe I just suck at finding the right guy.
Anyways, I've been so sick with this extreme fatigue that I gained 20 pounds in a month. I'm slowly losing again but who knows how long that will last.
God I'm depressing...