Monday, December 24, 2012

I feel a kind of sick that most people will never understand.

It's like you are so sad and depressed and just gone from the world that your heart is literally in pain, like a million rocks are being thrown at it at once. You can't breathe because if you do, reality will stab you through the heart. You want it to stop so badly that you need to think of a million ways to die. You try and cause yourself so much pain on the outside that it distracts you from the pain on the inside, but it's never deep enough. The relief is so small and lasts only a moment, but it's all you need to get through another night.

It feels so nice because I finally feel like me again- like I'm at home because I am so far into my own head that it blocks out the world. I am finally home. I haven't been home in years, but I am finally home.

Sunday, December 23, 2012

I hope this works for everyone.
I made this as a sort of present for everyone.
Merry Christmas!
video
I never realized D was such a mama's boy. It sucks.
I had an ear infection the other day, a really bad one and had to go to the doctor's. It was so painful I was crying. I didn't even take any pain medication for several hours because I didn't think about it. My mom wanted my dad to take me and my dad was busy and wanted D to take me. Thank goodness at least he did or I would have had to walk 3 1/2 miles or to the bus stop in the snow, in the cold, with an ear infection that made the entire side of my face feel like it had been smashed in with a rock. Not fun.
But his mom called to ask him what he was doing and so on and so forth. We hung out after work and she called at least 3 or four more times, each time asking where he was and what he was doing... I always feel like complete shit when I hear her always angry voice over the phone, controlling her son, and making me feel like I am taking him away from her or doing something to hurt him. And she does is every time. Everything is controlled by his mom. Where he goes, what he does... The day he left me at my parent's house, it was because she wanted him to help shovel snow.
He picks her over me every time. I can't just make him choose between me and his own mother though, so I told him maybe we should break up. But we didn't. More empty promises, more empty words and stupidity.
He asked the old man if he could stay over last night and the old man said yes, so I asked him if he was going to call his mom. He thought he was supposed to say no. Well, he lives there and I couldn't just have him not come back without telling her. She would wait up for him. So I told him there was a difference between calling her because he was being a mama's boy, and calling her to let her know something important. Like, that he wasn't dead or something.
So he called her, but then I found out he had asked her to call him in the morning to make sure he got up for work. I told K in front of him and asked her if she thought that was okay in a very pointed way. I don't care that I made him mad and inappropriately humiliated him. The prick deserved it. It is SOOOOO wrong to ask your mom for a wake up call when you are sleeping over at your girlfriend's house. NOT COOL.
This boy needs to grow up.
Half the time I feel like I am only determined to stay with him because on paper he sounds so perfect. Opens doors, is willing to support me, loves kids and wants a family, wants a house with pets, wants to help me fulfill my dreams... He's caring and thoughtful and considerate... Not very smart but I would hate for him to be smarter than me to be honest. I have had more than enough of men who won't listen to anything I say because they think they know better than me.
I know that I have loved him at times, but the feeling seems to come and go, and flicker like the fragile little flame at the tip of a candle. The more he acts like a grown up, the better I feel towards him. But there is also that sexual side of him that he is so attached to that just makes me feel sick to be honest. He says he understands and respects that I want to wait for marriage to have sex, and I have that standard set in my mind so firmly that I am not sure I could ever get carried away. I have slept in the same bed as him and messed around with him probably at least a hundred times now, and never gotten close. He said he now values the same thing for himself but then all he has to do is get extremely turned on, (a common occurrence to my disappointment), and he wants it and says he wants it. And I have either become comfortable enough with him to let me have a little more freedom with my body, upper half only, or I just give up on trying to make him do things my way. I am tired of so much.
I find myself missing H a lot more now. He told me through text a while ago that he felt the apartment was too quiet without me. He admitted ashamedly to having dirty dreams about me but I know it's only human. The few days every once in a while when we are both here at the apartment together he treats me so nicely and so sweetly that I feel sad that I gave up on him so soon. I mean, I know I could never go back to him unless me and D were completely over, but I could never leave D for H.
What I miss isn't even H's love, but his mannerisms  He was never afraid to stand up for himself or the people he cared about the most. When he had your back, you knew you were safe. He always knew what to say when I was depressed and cried. Even now, I end up breaking down on him and not D. D never knows what to say. His hugs feel uncomfortable. But H still feels like home and he always tells me that things will turn out okay and that everything will be alright. He tells me that things will get better no matter how many times I protest. He won't take no for an answer that way. H always knew when I was lying about eating and tried to get me to eat. D just lets me starve. I tell him when I am not eating and it's almost like he has to remember to make an effort to be worried about it. He never even tries to ask me to eat. Not even one try. D never gets things. He forgets things I say to do or not to do. I hate to say it but he is really stupid. H always got those things though. He was supportive and always pushed me to talk when he knew I really wanted to but tried pushing him away. He knew when to let things go and when to push them.
I'm sorry if this is confusing, all the D's and H's.
I'm not in any real pain over H, but I do miss him. I still love him, but it's kind of in a soft, sad way. The way one always feels about the memory of their first love. The first one never really leaves your heart. I have no plans or desires to get back with H though. I don't know how to explain it. Maybe let me put it this way. Before H was ever my boyfriend, he was my best friend. Even when we were dating, and now after all this time of being apart, he just feels like my best friend. He's the one I want to worry about me, and carry me when I'm too weak to walk, and feed me when I am so sad that I can't eat. But it's D I am with.
Last night next to D, I actually started crying because I didn't want to do Christmas anymore. D knew because of the way I was curled up under the blanket that something was wrong, but I don't think he knew I was crying. They were silent tears but they flooded out. He just said he didn't know what to do, and then asked if there was anything to do and I shook my head because I didn't know what to tell him. And I feel asleep unsatisfied. Even now, I don't care to be near him for a while. I told him I wasn't going to spend Christmas with him. I don't want to. I might see him Christmas eve, and maybe Christmas afternoon or night, but the desire or care just isn't there.
As of this morning I am 137.8 pounds. It's just not good enough. I walked for hours yesterday and only ate when my meds made me feel like I was going to throw up. I have to take antibiotics three times a day, and I take pain killers with those, and then I take the ADHD meds twice a day. I always gag when I swallow them, especially because the antibiotics are like horse pills. It's nasty. But at least I am not binge eating anymore. Today I had one pop tart so far, and some potato salad. I think I have a fever...

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

"Leave" 2

So to continue with what I w saying.... everything felt really wrong already. I couldn't even express how I was feeling to him. Eventually when someone doesn't get what you are saying after ten or twenty or a hundred times, you stop trying to tell them whatever it is. I'm tired of it. I am not sure he has the ability to know what I need, or even to understand what really matters to me.
H texted me that last night after D had fallen asleep. I do find myself missing him sometimes, but it doesn't hurt as much anymore. It's like a soft love pang that makes me smile to remember. He was my first love when I think about it. That boy I wrote notes with and pretend dated, what I had with him was nothing like what I had with H. I say pretend because we were both Mormon kids and we weren't allowed to date for a few more years at that point. So we wrote notes and flirted. Oh but he does count in a way. He actually calls me randomly for no reason. I still smile when I think of him too.
I am back at the apartment by the way. I must have looked terrible when I went up the stairs at my parents' house yesterday after I discovered what had happened. He left me a little note in his awful handwriting but it was my sister who told me that he had to go home to help his parents with something. He actually left while I was asleep, on his day off, because his mommy and daddy told him to. My mom says he tried to wake me up but then I wonder how hard. I did tell him very firmly in the past to never wake me up, but where is his good judgement? Face the panic attack I might but might not have because of being awoken? Or be absent when I panic because I realize I was left behind to fend for myself and pack up heavy things by myself, and say goodbye by myself. I was more worried that I wouldn't be able to get a ride back here to the apartment. A person can really die on the inside and I'm living- or really, dying- proof. I think anyone else struggling with an eating disorder might be the same as me in that way. No?
But I felt so much like crying and it must have shown on my face, because I went upstairs and my mom asked what was wrong, concerned, and I just said, "I want to go home." Thankfully she was able to be a proper mother then. She told me that I could leave with my dad and the girls when he had to take them to church activities. I ked when they would be leaving and she said half an hour. I guess my expression said it all. She then assured me that my oldest brother could drive me home whenever I wanted. I managed to finish the package to my other brother, the one I haven't seen in years, and I packed my things. My brother had to carry my stuff out for me because my mom asked him to. I literally could not lift the backpack without seriously hurting myself. Last time it cut off all of the blood in my arm and then pulled a muscle over my shoulder. I have terribly painful back issues and my ear was hurting, and I was shaking from refusing dinner after waking up... it just wouldn't have worked. My back pain at its worse literally takes the breath out of me and I sort of stay really still because it hurts too much to move. All of those bad falls on my head and neck and choulders, and the falls on the ice and rocks on my back... I was thrown off of the trampoleen by accident by college boys when I was eight or so and landed on my head. And I crashed my sled once and basically hit my tail bones and the top of my spine on the ice on two separate occasions. My back hurt for weeks after, both times and many more. I am so beat up. >.<
Either way, my mom had to ask him at least five times to help me and then he started getting angry and I got scared-er. I was already in a state of high anxiety. He's the one who used to beat me and strangle me and try and stab me with things. Pencil into my thumb once...
I'm only afraid when he gets angry, but I always get really scared when anyone gets angry. I do love him. I love all of them.
I decided then that I HAD to get skinny. D will never get it, and neither will most people until they can see it on my body. I want them to want to protect my heart because if they don't, I'll starve myself into nothing.
I wanted to eat nothing. Not a thing. Ever. Again.
But I did. Food has been shoved at me all day. A little bit of this or that. At my parent's house, they usually offer me food instead of just giving it to me. The old man threw me a rise crispy. I didn't want to just shove it away somewhere. Showing is appreciating. But my mom knows I have some sort of eating disorder and would pressure me to eat something at some point. Here, it is A LOT more forced. So I'd been snacking only a little bit on chips all day, not really counting chips or calories, but after looking at the back of the bag, I had a vague enough idea to keep myself in check. But then I had bites of a lemon parfait because I was afraid it would go bad and get wasted, and something else I think, but I took my pill right after that to help since the last was wearing off anyways. I do follow directions with that though. No self medicating so to speak, or overdosing or whatever. I'm not really addicted. My appetite is,  but I can easily forget it or skip it on purpose. Swallowing big pills make me gag, and that's not meant to sound dirty.
They made onion rings, and cheese stick thingies, and some fries just for me. I had one or two of the first two foods, but I picked at the fries, K's version of a handful and never finished even half. Maybe a third- maybe.
I turned down the chocolate frosted donuts with m'n'm's and sprinkles though. I said I felt sick and not very hungry, which is actually really true. I weighed after doing my bathroom stuff and then took a shower. I am at 138.5 I think. Or maybe it was 137.5... well, around there anyways. Better than at 140 still I suppose... or at that number again, I should say. Meh. I literally only sleep every other day now and so I haven't slept since I woke up to find D gone. That's about... well, I've been up at least 27 hours now. I can't sleep.
But I hate myself for any food right now. Real anorexics, 500 would be a high number for them, wouldn't it be? I get thousands of calories shoved down my throat. I am sure of it. I need to lose. Now. I feel like my body is going to obsorb anything I eat as if it's a high calorie food. I shouldn't be scared to eat a few green beans but a lot of food is a lot of food, and a small bowl of green beans that adds up to barely any calories is still too much. It feels like water has calories, and if I drank too much of it, my body would absorb it as fat somehow anyways. And anything that says it is zero calories. I always give high estimates, maybe that's why. Food is food is food and no matter what, eating feels like giving in and failing. Sorry to write so much all at once. For anyone who gets through both posts- you have a lot of patience! O.O

"Leave" 1

So the night before last I stayed overnight at my parents' house. I was there for three nights. The first was soon after coming back from D's in that incradably horrifying mood. I couldn't stop snapping at him and biting his head off about stupid things, and I mean- really,really stupid things. You know, like when kids are in a car together too long and suddenly the most annoying thing is that everyone is breathing too loud, and they are just a hair into your space bubble because they have to be but it feels like they are in your lap crushing you, and you can't breathe? Maybe you don't know what I mean but it doesn't matter. I lasted the night okay I think. I slept fitfully on the couch, going to bed hours later than everyone else, probably at around two or three in the morning. Then the kindergarten age sister was the first up besides my dad who was in the shower, and that was maybe seven in the morning at latest. She ended up waking me up by accident so I helped her make breakfast. But that's all besides the point.
After a little while I just felt trapped and lost and out of control. The constant noisiness and bustle of my large family on a Sunday morning made me withdraw. I got out my computer and plugged my earphones into that because my mp3 player was mostly drained and I couldn't find my recharger anywhere. I started out on Facebook but as everyone was hurrying to get ready and was paying less attention to me, I put up a YouTube tab and turned on my playlists. It was one of my pro Ana playlists. I didn't have to even watch them to understand because I've seen them so many times, I associated the whole determination of becoming tiny with them.
Once they left, I watched the car turn out of the driveway and then I immediately went to change. I pulled out the exercise bike and put my laptop plugged in to the side and played my playlists full screen with the speakers loudly pounding those songs through whatever part of my brain made me work harder. I was sweating withing minutes I think. I only worked off 230 calories before D came over. And when he came in I was still doing that in the basement so I had time to push it aside and pull a heavy sweatshirt over my see-through, sweaty and loose top. I don't know how he didn't hear my music and just come down, but he knows about those playlists and the music on them, so it's not that big of a deal I suppose. Just for some reason I really didn't want him to know that I was exersizing. The more you tell the okay people about your eating disorder, the more they can do to make your life hell when they finally see you and realize what is going on. It's never scary or dangerous or bad until you look that way. Literaly- fat chance.
I went right back into my old mode and it was tempting to just stay there and sink into it. I forgot to take my meds for a while but on the second or third night I was so withdrawn into that not eating mode I have, that somehow I completely over wrote the extreme cravings that Med will give you when you forget it. I may have eaten green beans the first night, but I refused everything the second. Nothing looked good. Not even the Christmas treats my mom had made that no one else will ever be able to turn down unless they are puking their guts out with the flu. Even then...
I finished the box for my brother and left it with my mom who was going to dig out some candy to sprinkle into the tinsle I threw all over the place in there. She even decided to pay the shipping fee for me when she shipped it out. Hopefully she got that done.
I hardly saw my lovely cat, Princess. The new cat got worms back which she must have had too and given it back to him. But at least he got treated for it once. My poor baby sleeps outside ever other night in inches at least of snow and terribly cold weather because she is scared to death of the new cat, who vicsiously attacks her when he sees her. The new cat also attacks the little kids and scratches and bites up their hands and then meows when he isn't being held or carried around. My cat lived there first. I've had her for four or five years now and they just basically sentenced her to death. Not only is she sicka nd has worms and is freezing all the time, but the other cat eats all of her food and there are coyotes outside. They got several of my other cats because my mom let them outside regularly on purpose. I have basically resigned to this idea that she's going to die any day now. My mom basically killed Mia that way. Remember me talking about her? Well she is long gone and dead by now.
Princess means so much to me that I am just completely shut down at this thought. I'm sure at least some of you know how a pet can be more like a best friend or family member than just an animal you cage and feed.
I wandered off topic again though. The third day- the night before last- I fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, maybe five or six in the morning, hours after D had fallen asleep. I woke up several times with half asleep, mini panic attacks. For some reason I thought D had left and I was then there alone. Of course through each panic attack I was too tired to think and kept falling back to sleep. That kind of anxiety always gives me nightmares. By maybe the fifth or sixth time I woke up, (I'm not sure how many times I was awake enough to remember all of the panic attacks), I sat up and made myself think for a moment.
I don't have to worry about him leaving me. He's different. D isn't H. He wouldn't just leave me here...
I knew every time I woke up a little more awake that I wasn't going to get up for a while. I was planning to just stay there under the covers until D dragged me out, which he never does. I wanted to just curl up and die. I was sitting there breaking my own heart, thinking that- again- he was up talking and playing with my family, and my sisters. I'm not sure why exactly this was riling me up so much, but I think it had a lot to do with the fact that I just didn't have the energy to do everything with them, I've never had enough for that. So watching them smile and laugh with him like he already belonged, when I have always been the black sheep of the family hurt. He could do everything with and for my family that I have wished all my life I could do for them, and it's all because I am lazy and fucked up because I am depressed. It hurt. I went out there to the house and I only see my family once a week at the most, usually more like once a month, and my family- my SISTERS- spent more time with him. My parents even spoke to him like an adult and then they turned and treated me like a child, like a stupid, selfish, self centered little teenager. It made me feel like I was being put in my proper place below D, and below everyone else. It felt like I wasn't worth anything to them.
I know this is all I rational but it's how I feel, and there is nothing more true and honest than the way one feels. My feelings ARE valid. Just not to anyone but me I guess.
So to conclude, I called out to my sister from the couch and asked her where he was. I meant in the house but... I already knew though. The first time I woke up panicking, my subconscious already knew he'd left me there at my parents house. Somehow he became delusional while being friendly with all of them. He KNEW how rough that place was on me. I had even said the night before that I wanted to go home when I woke up and he was gone. This is long so I'm going to continue it in the next post.

Saturday, December 15, 2012

How did my followers get to thirty... I can't remember if it was like that before or not... *fail*.
I have been away way too long..
So I guess I was at or around 130 for a while. At least on D's scale. Yes we are still together.
I weighed myself when I woke up some time after midnight this morning, and I am 140.1 Pounds. At least it isn't 145 I suppose. But I feel like I took a million steps back there. I was regularly in the 130's for a while. I have been at 140 for sooooo looooong!!!!!!!!!!! Agh. It sucks.
But, I am going to take my ADHD meds regularly now. It kills my appetite like nothing else. I took it this morning and I haven't eaten much since. When I start to feel like I could eat everything again, I can probably take another. Also, I have missed so many days that I went to get a refill on I think Monday, and I still haven't had to open the bottle. I still have some in my last bottle. But that's good. I have trouble with sleeping regularly which bothers me medication-wise, like, do I take two per day or two per period of being awake? But I decided it needs to be two a day. Then I can sleep whenever and keep my appetite gone. Hopefully.
I have had a cream soda, which is liquid so I won't really count the calories, and I have been sipping a coca cola vanilla zero for a few hours now, and I am snacking on mint patties a little bit. They are 30 calories per I believe, and I have had I think seven now? That means I've had 210 calories so far. That is perfectly fine with me.
Because of how much I have been binge eating lately, my metabolism should be doing pretty good so I figure as long as my calories are below 1,000 for the day, I should lose. But I hope I have so much less than that. If I snack on more mints, let's say 13 more to make it a total of 20, then it's still only 600. That does seem like a lot actually... Oh well. We'll just see how the day goes.
So in other news, the pack of cigarettes I bought ages ago and put in my purse? I smoked my first one a few weeks ago last time I was at this apartment instead of D's house. It wasn't bad... It's a secret I have been able to keep which makes me feel safer, and I haven't smoked any since, so I know it won't be an addiction. I might do it again next time I need a little more of my destructive side. It creeps up now and again.
There was the issue of smoke smell, but I said I talked to a girl in the park and she blew it all over me and made it another one of my little stories before anyone could even ask. If need be, she will become something of an imaginary friend who I meet with in the park again to explain it. The cigarette wasn't enough to satiate my dark mood at the time so I remembered a scar a girl had once shown me in high school. She actually talked a little about self harming, although she didn't do it as often as I did, and she was a bit more on the wild side. She also did drugs, smoked regularly, had sex with her boyfriend all weekend every weekend, had been in jail, had done the whole starving and purging thing... just for a little background. She had a scar from a cigarette, a self made one I guess.
I found out that cigarettes burn lol.
I did actually put it out on my arm, which for those of you you don't know, they take a little twisting and dabbing to put out. They don't just snuff out after one touch. But anyways. I have self harmed in many ways over the years, and I can see this as just another one of them. Try not to be too alarmed with me...?
The burn didn't show up for a while and then it made one of those blister bubble thingies...
I naturally pick at scabs by the way. It's a compulsion. Some people may think it's gross, but then, how many people pick their noses and chew their nails and pick at pimples? Anyone who is grossed out by that should probably learn to realize that life isn't always prim and proper and people aren't perfect nor do they always have every clean habit out there... Anyways. Always with the random tangents...
So yeah, there is a nice sized scab there. Not pretty to look at... but oh well.
I hope everyone else is enjoying this Christmas season more than I am. I am just purely stressed out about it. I don't have a home to decorate and I can't even keep the things I bought everyone for presents, or the things I bought to make presents out of- here with me at the apartment.
I don't know what to do about it... : /
Love you all. I hope you all can lose a little this season too. <3

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Hey girls, just throwing attention to the fact that I am updating things and reorganizing my blog and stuff. I updated my goals on the right side of the blog under posts I believe, and under that I added measurements I took last month. They aren't accurate as of now, but I will have something to compare to next time I measure. Idk if I already talked about it, but D got me a little pocket retractable measuring tape for just that. It's in my purse now and I pull it out every once in a while when I can't weigh and I usually just check my waist. I am most conscious of my stomach more than anything else on my body. My butt isn't in my main view so I never really think about it and I wish my boobs would stop shrinking too but I like them smaller I must say. I am hoping if I get to my goal weight and maintain it for a while and eat well enough, the fat will go back to my boobs like it always does when I am maintaining. As long as it doesn't go back onto my stomach...
I am told that I basically have a flat stomach now but I have been obsessed over it for so long that I still feel really fat and gross there. I wake up and feel my stomach and until it's concave, it's just never going to be good enough. When I wear tops that are a little tighter, more form fitting, I always feel like it is bulging out terribly and that everyone can see it and are thinking about it and judging me. I always feel like it puts me lower on the food chain, like in high school when a fat girl tries to stand next to a popular girl. It feels terrible  When will I ever measure up to that? When will it ever be good enough?
Anyways, I know I don't talk in detail about my body much, like what parts I do and don't like so there is something to think about... I hear other girls complain about things like their hips and butts and legs and stuff but I have to say the waist has got to be the foremost in my head. I do hate my thighs though. There is no way to make thighs look attractive to me. When you wear shorts and sit down in front of a nice guy and they smash into these bug, ugly, fat, blobs... not attractive.
What do you guys like and/or dislike about your bodies?

Alright so... I might be back on blogger now but I'm not really sure. My problem before was that it was inconvenient more than anything to actually get on and still have privacy. My computer can be a pain but it does start up and it does have privacy. It just sucks to have to open it up in my lap on a moldy mattress on the floor. I have been at D's house for way too long. It's been more than a week I think. Maybe more like two.
He is letting me borrow his tablet for home. I downloaded lots of games and hooked it up to my accounts and all kinds of things. I downloaded a few of my favorite mangas and I can always read those if internet stops working there. The tablet is as easy to get on as pushing a button. Literally. For those of you who don't know, this thing is basically the size of a good book but flat, and it has fast access to internet and I can download apps onto it. It's a little mobile device I can use to count and keep track of my calories and keep myself occupied between those- I'm hoping FEW calories.
So I am actually posting off of the tablet right now for the first time.
I am so stressed out about the holidays. I gained ten or fifteen pounds back. The scale here takes away five pounds but the scale at the doctors office seems to say that the other scale is more accurate. So, I am about 145 pounds again. I was at 130! How could I have let myself go?!
I wanted to be 120 by new years and I could have done it. But I still want to believe that I can do it.
I don't have the time or the money or the energy to make or get presents for everyone this Christmas season. A friend of mine who I used to talk to online all the time pointed something out to me sort of last time I talked to him. I asked if he was looking forward to Christmas this year and he said no.  He said, I'm old enough now to know to feel bad when others give me presents and I haven't got anything for them. And he was right.
It takes the joy out of Christmas at least for me.
For years I saw Christmas as this beacon of hope. I always felt that somehow Christmas could make things better, that it really was that magical time of year. I still wish and hope, but I know I will just be disappointed like I am every year. So my only goal for myself this year is to be Skinner. All of my private memories of the seasons passed when I successfully lost weight and lived safely in my own little world are swarming over me and I just want that back so bad. The idea of Christmas being over haunts me because I will feel like I do every year. That I wasted my time when I could have been doing so much. And the idea of summer makes me want to puke. I want away from all of that forever. I hate sumer. I hate the heat. But then, I hate a lot of things.
Maybe right now I am just scared but I don't really care for any idea of what is mentally healthy right now. If we can't be normal human beings with normal emotions the kinds we actually feel with then what are we? People who are perfect are monsters because they cannot feel correctly. I like me the way I am in my head. It's just my body that I want to look better to reflect what I really am. A fat girl can have a great personality but no one will ever look past her fat to find it.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Hey guys. I'm still here, I just don't really... feel like sharing much lately. But don't worry about me if I am gone every once in a while for several days, okay? Love you all!
xoxo

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Hey everyone. It finally clicked and I messed around with my internet settings and was able to fix the problem with commenting. I can comment now!
I am going to bed now because I am exhausted and have a huge headache but I will see what I can cover when I have time. Look forward to at least SOME commenting. No promises.
I got back on my meds and only took the starting dose again and my mood felt a lot better, but I have no short term memory on this med. Like, it's part of my cognitive disorder anyways but my thoughts literally leave me a split second after I make them.
"I need to do this..." And then it's gone.
But it is taking away my appetite. I had two muffins for breakfast- 800 calories yuck. I know. Then I took my meds and I don't remember eating anything else except for a bowl of soup with noodles, at around 350 I think. I have been binge eating like CRAZY since I got off that med. Withdrawal I would think... But now it's better. I want to get back down to 140, then head down into the 130's again. I suddenly ended up at 148 in one day, but I weighed in at 146 this morning. I didn't even take my meds yesterday so I must have done something right, and had control over myself somehow.
Feeling crappy mood wise right now, but again, sleep...
Goodnight girls, love you all!
Let's get skinny.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

This song is stuck in my head again...
"You Lost Me" by Christina Aguilera

I am done
Smoking gun
We've lost it all
The love is gone

She has won
Now its no fun
We've lost it all
The love is gone

And we had magic
And this is tragic
You couldn't keep your hands to yourself

I feel like our world's been infected,
And somehow you left me neglected

We've found our lives been changed
Babe, you lost me

And we tried
Oh, how we cried
Oh, we lost ourselves
The love has died

And though we tried
You can't deny
We're left as shells
We've lost a fight

And we had magic
And this is tragic
You couldn't keep your hands to yourself

Oh, I feel like our world's been infected
And somehow you left me neglected
We've found our lives been changed
Cause babe, you lost me

Now I know you're sorry
And we were sweet
Oh, but you chose lust when you deceived me
And you'll regret it, but it's too late
How can I ever trust you again?

I feel like our world's been infected,
And somehow you left me neglected
We've found our lives been changed
Oh babe, you lost me



I feel like MY world has been infected. I feel disgusting, and dirty, and violated... I feel worthless. Anyone else know this feeling? ...I am very familiar with it, but it's constant now. It won't go away. It makes me feel constantly... Abused. I am always sick now... I am so tired of this. I'm not manic depressive right now. I am just sort of... here.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

I have just saved the first two cycles of America's Next Top Model photo shoots onto my computer. I am taking a break for now but wow I love having them...
Everybody wants to be tiny and gorgeous.
Here are the Cycle 1, first photo shoot pictures.










If you would like to see more pictures from the show or the pictures here don't show up, please comment.
I'm sitting here binge eating because I can't handle my life right now. Still balancing at 140.
My family just dropped the bomb. They are moving to another state in the spring. I don't know whether to stay or go, but either way I feel fucked.
The only reason I am even staying with D right now is because it feels like he is my only hope for survival. If I dump him and move on, I have to go find a job and support myself and try and get my own apartment. This sucks. If I go with them and am able to see my family ever, I am also starting over with nowhere to go but stay with them. But if I stay here, I may not get to see my family ever, and if things don't work out with D, or if I outlast my stay at the apartment with H and them, I am fucked. I would be homeless and my mom would just say, I can't do anything about it, over the phone when I end up on the streets.
I hate my life. It really does seem pointless right now. There is no place that I feel okay.
D is just making mistake after mistake. Things like making things constantly sexual. Way to make me feel respected. And I can't even share my problems with him anymore because he makes it all about him. If I feel bad, he feels as if he should have done better and then he sits there and hates himself for just being the way he is. I hate it.
I feel seriously sick. I haven't felt well and healthy in probably years now. I can't handle life. I feel like crap...
I see I have more followers, welcome.
Just to make things clear, this isn't a super happy go lucky blog. It's just me being honest. I don't care for pretending to be happy 100% of the time, just so that others don't judge me.
I want to be so tiny by Christmas... I want to be tiny NOW.
My little sister is 14 and she is an inch taller than me now. She is under 125 naturally. I want to be skinnier even than that.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Scarlett Ana, I wrote this incredibly long embarrassing comment on your blog and then hit send, but of course I forgot that my computer is stupid and won't let me post comments still. So...
Welcome, and welcome to my other new followers that I don't recognize in my list as of today, which I think is AmericanEagleGlove. And , welcome back all the rest of you hopefully.
I am still terribly sorry that I have been gone for so long. I don't know why I wasn't posting, and I'm sorry I have not had the chance to comment on any of your blogs. I am considering just putting my comment in as a post when there is no other option.

So, I wanted to say thank you to Scarlett Ana. Really thanks. I appreciate that you read through my entire blog. That amazes me. I used to do it myself for other people but now I can't even remember what I am saying halfway through a sentence at times.
Anyways, I wanted to say thanks for the happy birthday too, even though you are right about that. It sucked. I've never really had a good birthday myself.
I am curious though. What motivated you to read my blog of all blogs, and then what motivated you to read the entire thing? I noticed that your blog looks fairly new, but your name is hauntingly familiar for some reason. I read all of your posts too.
I am curious to see exactly what you meant about us being very alike. Your true colors and what you are like will become clear through your posts over time. I am excited to see a new blogger around.
If you have read any of my more recent posts, I think it talks a little bit about what you mentioned.

"All the hard and difficult things in your life, I don't have. This makes me feel even worse, because I have no reason to be how I am. I just am."

Even if I didn't have these problems that I have, I would still feel as if I were unhappy for no reason. Sometimes on days when nothing is wrong, even if things go pretty alright I feel down and cannot explain why, which always made me angry at myself because I would just feel that everyone would see it as attention seeking, and then I told myself it was just attention seeking. But the thing is, because of my emotional problems, I will never have that same level of emotional normality that is so common and considered acceptable. Depression is really just unhappiness. Anxiety disorder is really just lots of worry and stress. Bipolar disorder, is really just having happy times and having unhappy times. ADHD is really just an overactive mind, a distracted mind. Doctor's have put names on everything to make them diseases, when really they are just different ways people express emotion, and because being sad too much, or being overly happy or any of these things are not perfect, they are not accepted as okay by society. What I mean to say, is that other people can believe these doctors and discriminate against you for not being like them, but maybe you should try and come to terms with it. You don't have to live by anyone else's standard of living. If we are to consider things like unhappiness to be labelled as "depression" and turned into a disease, that really has no cure, then we are dooming ourselves to an even sadder existence where we are constantly measuring ourselves up to everyone else, believing that we are handicapped and wishing we can be "normal". Sometimes, we will be unhappy for no reason, and we won't be able to explain it, but perhaps we should stop burdening ourselves with finding an answer and having a reason, and something to excuse who we are, and just content ourselves with finding a simple understanding. And the simple understanding is this. Sometimes we will be unhappy, but it will pass. If there was never a happy moment in our lives, we would not know how to be sad and unhappy and angry in the first place. There would be nothing to compare it to. Try and just make yourself comfortable and get by without the anchor to drag you down, which is just the obsessive thought that by being unhappy, you are doing something wrong, or something not normal and that it needs to change. You can't cure depression, you can only make it less detrimental, and learn how to live with it. There must be so many depressed people that drag themselves down with the obsession of being different.
"Why can't I be happy like they are?"
"Will I ever be happy?"
"When is this going to end?" But there are less hopeless things all around you. This goes for everybody who is depressed, unhappy, dissatisfied with life... anything. Sorry, that kind of sounds like preaching. It is my way of coming to terms with the ways I am different from everybody else.
I don't want to "get better", I just want to stop being judged, misunderstood, and I want to be accepted for the way I am. You can't just treat my unhappiness like a disease. I am unhappy in the same way you and everyone else becomes unhappy. Depression is not a disease, and should not be treated like a disease.
Medications muffle the issue, such as numbing the unhappiness, or changing chemicals in your body, but as soon as you are off of them, the same issue is still there, just as before. Why would you have to get off, you might ask? Suppose you have decided to have a child? You can't take these medications while pregnant. But then you have your issues to deal with alongside of the new responsibility  Personally, I do not want to have to face that issue. If I work on things by myself, instead of throwing a curtain over my issue, I can work through it until I come to a point where I am managing without the use of drugs, and so I can continue using these problem solving issues and it will not affect any unborn child, or any other major life event that comes my way. This is however, just my own belief for myself. Medications can be very good for a person in different cases. By the way, the comment on the amphetamines- just to clarify, that is my ADHD medication. I can't remember the other name for it and amphetamine is just what I always see on the bottle so I call it that. They are by prescription, and actually a side affect of them is that they lift my mood a lot and make me more enthusiastic about life, which is good for me right now because it is the colder months and I have severe, dangerous depression issues around now. I won't be taking them every winter, but my goal for right now is to make it through this winter better than I handled last winter, which means, I just need to not die lol.
I am learning ways to cope but the amphetamines help me to want to try and cope. And again, they are prescribed to me by a doctor to help with my ADHD.
I guess this is going to be a longish post...

Even when I can't or don't comment, please keep in mind Scarlett, and everyone else, I am a reader. I get on here all the time just to read and catch up and see how everyone is doing. I am the kind of reader who can read fast enough to get through the Harry Potter series in a few days, and I have.
I am always here. If anyone would like to contact me for any reason or get to know me better, by all means, leave an email address or any form of contact information in a comment. I don't publish personal information and I am on my email every day so I will be able to reply fairly quickly, depending on the day. Comments are set up to also come into my mailbox as an email, so I can read them from there. It's really no trouble at all.
Scarlett Ana, I apologize in advance if I misunderstood anything or if I said anything that you did not care for. I can take all of this down if you like. All you have to do is ask. :)
Have a good day everyone!

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Sorry to worry everyone... I feel bad about being so mean about it all too. But I know it will happen again, so... sorry in advance?
I think I am tired of not having a secret. I told D about my eating issues a while ago. I am not skinny enough to make him worry. I have also been eating like a fat pig lately. My conclusion is a bit backwards haha...
I'm going to start smoking.
I once read this article a woman wrote, about how she only ever smoked one cigarette every once in a while, literally too little to have an addiction, but it was an addiction for her anyways. It was an addiction to keeping secrets. She kept it from her husband and kids who hated smoking.
I hear it's best to start out by buying Marlboro light and red. I wonder how much money that is...?
I just want to see what happens. I don't have the money for a habit like that anyways, so that should keep me in check just fine. I want to be in the 130's regularly now but I gained several pounds so I shocked myself into not eating for a while. Hopefully I will lose it again and be able to hit a new low weight. 140 is never appealing, and I am tired of D trying to pick me up and grunting because I weigh so much. He always makes me hold on around his neck for extra support. I want to be small enough that if I was asleep he could just pick me up, easy as pie, and carry me from place to place. Even ten pounds difference would be great.
I haven't taken my meds in days but I am about to take the amphetamines because they help me lose my appetite. You would think I would be addicted to them by now and stop -stopping taking them. But no...
I hate that I don't work. In a way it is a relief  especially knowing that D really will take care of me, but there are so many things I want and they cost money. For one, I think my cat is sick... and I can't even take her to the vet. I have no car, no driver's license, which my sister is about to get, and I have no money to pay for an appointment.
D still hasn't found a new job. He isn't even watching his money very well. It keeps me from feeling as if he really will take care of me. I can't feel safe.
I am nineteen now. It's not sinking in very well...
I am having trouble gathering my thoughts... I am also tired but I am nocturnal again and when he goes in for his lunch shift at around 11, I don't want to be asleep or exhausted so I am trying to correct my schedule even though, without anything to build a schedule around, it seems kind of pointless. But the amphetamines should wake me up a bit. They always do.
I hope everyone is safe and getting skinny like I am. Love you all.
xoxo

Monday, October 29, 2012

I lost my job.
My birthday has passed and I am still in the same Hell hole place.
I am not happier.
I am not even eating fine. I have been binge eating several thousand calories per day, and yet I am losing weight. My head spins and makes me nauseous in the dark. I am always freezing or burning up. My period came two weeks early. I stopped taking any meds. I don't work so I don't need them. I have stopped feeling most emotion. I have started dating D. I do not love him.
Sometimes my heart beats so hard that it jars my body with each beat, and sometimes you can't even feel my pulse. My anxiety attacks have been internalized, to the point where I can be terrified on the inside, and on the outside I can't even say a word. I don't want to talk to people. The idea of talking to people makes me want to kill myself. Literally.
I eat too much, and spend too much money on pointless things.
After eating too much I think endlessly about making myself puke it up but then D would get more worried. He passed out at work the other day and was driven to the ER. The doctor could only assume it was from stress and released him after a few hours. That was the day I didn't wake up for 24 hours. Nearing the end of that time period, I didn't even wake up when I was texted or called, even though the phone was right next to my ear. I was so shut down and anxious, my body did not even wake up.
I am regularly in the high 130's now, but I also get to 140-143 often. Usually just a pound over the 140 mark though.
I have been having sleeping issues. I once stayed awake for four days. Somewhere around the second or third day I tried to sleep. I napped for maybe 2 or 3 hours, woke up, and was then wide awake again.
I am sick of life.
I just want everyone to let me die.
I hate it here with D, I hate it there at the apartment, I hate my parent's house. I am just jumping from one stressful place to another. I feel as if I am just dying on the inside. There is no safe place. I would rather not exist at all.
The days seem endless, the nights longer.
I understand what I am doing wrong and how I can correct it, but I just don't want to put in the effort. To me, it is still hard to find a reason to keep going on. I am trapped in this miserable existence and I just want it to end. The rain may be blocked out by the structure of the house, but to me, I am always raining on the inside. The blood that manages to drip through my dehydrated veins is painful. I am in physical and emotional pain. I cannot do this anymore. It's hopeless and no one has the power to help me, not even myself. Where am I going to find shelter in this rain of my own making? I won't.
I choose to throw away this life of mine that everyone else loves and sees purpose in. Fine, I am ungrateful. I am disgusting. I am a sinner. Throw stones at my soul for deciding to throw it away, I don't care. I am already broken. If you were to attack who I am, I would just gratefully accept it. It has been so long since anyone told me directly what I am and what they think of me. I would accept it like a beggar in the dessert would accept a small loaf of bread and a glass of water.
I am dying. I am starting to wonder if even my body is starting to go along with my mind. My heart just wants to give up. On most days, my heart literally feels like it is tired. My chest literally feels tight and sinking, like my heart is working too hard to keep on going. I want to start purging just out of morbid curiosity because I know how much purging affects your heart. I want my heart to just give up too. I want it to stop.
I can feel the pain that I would give everyone else when I die. I am savoring that pain. I hope, to them, it is nothing worse painful than what I am experiencing every day now. I can't do it. I really can't.
I just want to bleed. Last time I was here I took the pair of scissors on the desk and just sliced open my arm over and over and over again. I didn't go deep. This time I want to. I want to slice open my face, and cut through the corner of my eye and through my cheek bone, and sever my sinuses and expose the muscle in my jaw, and the inside of my mouth through my lip. I want to gouge out that little sink spot at the base of my throat. I want to slash at the bits in my neck. I want to go at my wrist and just see how deep I can go. I want to see a pulse. I want to hurt. I want to maim. What good are these hands if the only thing they can do is draw and write and create things that express my pain. They do not get me out of here. They will not earn me money or give me a job. They are worthless. I am worthless.
I don't want to live in this world anymore, or any other. I want to be dead. My body is just a cage for my soul, even if I would destroy my soul by trying to help it escape and be free, I can die trying.
I am tired of religious people and their views on depression and suicide, and life after death.
I am sick of those who love me and all of their views. I DON'T CARE RIGHT NOW.
And any blogger who would comment on this, it would just be wasted words. Everyone knows that bloggers can't be good friends, which is why not a single one of us is missed when we are gone. I dare anyone to look back and realize how long it has been since I last posted. I already know.
I don't want to do this anymore...

Sunday, October 14, 2012

I "forgot" the amphetamines for my ADHD for a few days because I didn't want to be happy. Got back from D's and just crashed. I slept for 12 hours before even leaving and then I slept for another 12 when I got back here. Then I had a snack and watched a horrible movie that creeped me out anyways after waking up from a bad dream, and promptly went back to bed for another 12 hours.
I don't want to talk to anyone. I have to work tomorrow. I am so fat...
Nearly 144 pounds. How disgusting. I can't do this anymore... maybe I will just go back to bed.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

I ate too much today, but I am less devastated than yesterday.
I won't make excuses for last night.
Every time I am like that, it is because I am feeling trapped.
I die on the inside when hope of leaving, leaves me.
I may not be moving out this month, or this year, but I feel that D will get me out. And when I let myself dream I get life put back in me. With D, I can dream.
I watched August Rush today. I wanted to play music again so badly that I started to cry.
I am still at D's for some strange reason. His parents somehow agreed to another night. I am a little less anxious because I have a little space from him, but not any less confused. I can pace the living room if I like.
He has gone to bed early to be up to go to work very early. He gets to open.
Just talking and imagining the possibilities of my life with him has really opened me up. As it is said in August Rush, I feel like I have been dead all these years, and now suddenly I am alive again. I am waking up from a long, deep slumber.
If I have to, I will be able to survive that apartment for the winter. At least now I have someone to dream with. I want to have animals of all kinds. I want trinkets and objects, art supplies and to draw. I want to write. I want to sing. I want to play music. I want to have my things and my clothes. I want to have my own room, and a clean place to be in. I want a home. When I believe that I will have these things, I become alive. I am so filled with life sometimes. But when hope fails me and dreams seem empty, I have nothing to live for. These things are what I want to live for. For once in my life I feel like I want to create instead of destroy.
Beyond all of this, I am dreaming of things I would like to do. I would love to have a bakery where I can create all manner of tasty things to eat. I would love to help people and take care of animals. I don't know what direction life will take me, but fantasizing of a far future like this is very unlike me. I think it is the medication...
But anyways. As I said, I ate way too much today. I am sure I have had over 2000 calories at least, if not 2 times that. I will gain. But I cannot weigh myself here. I need to lose weight badly. Even if I am feeling some life, I hate having food in me. Even feeling somewhat happy, I need to be tiny. I have lost my appetite though and my binge food of kit-kats are running out. I have maybe two left. I will be able to eat very little tomorrow hopefully, because I am sick of eating. It feels better to starve. It makes everything better. I am itching to be tiny like nothing else...
I don't know what I got on here to say. perhaps just writing was the feeling I needed to pursue. I don't know.
I just want to be skinny. I want the fail-safe feeling of losing a lot at a time. It makes me feel that I can reach my goal of being underweight, so that I am easily able to just let go of life if I need to. Then I am in fate's hands.
Then, I won't have to try something drastic like taking pills or anything super dangerous that would put me in the hospital and be scary and painful, I could just slip away. I have no such delusion that it will feel good or be painless, but this is my dream anyways.

Just A Little Bird

I may just be
A little bird
But I need life
And I need hope

Put me in a cage
And I will sing
But my voice will die
And I will bleed

I'll sit there
Perched, upon a bar
Not a rose
Not a flower
Surrounded by metal
Mined from rocks
When what I want
Are less sticks and stones

If I could dream
I'd tell stories
But I just chirp a tune
That you can't understand

You can't feel me
Or hear my words
Your touch is less
And less each day
Interest fades
And then I am just a bird
A little bird
In a cage

I used to live
And then I was put in a cage.
I used to sing,
And then my voice died.
I tried to dream,
But soon I could not sleep.
I used to breathe,
But now I gasp.
I want out.
I want out of this cage.

A cat comes out
To play one day
Fear is there
But escape may be

And suddenly I live
Live for the thrill
To escape
While being chased

My time is running out
I'm running away
But then the cat
Is late one day
And those dreams,
Those dreams,
They fade away.

But a taste is a taste
So I still dream
I dream these dreams
Of life and hope

Colors bright
And creatures bold
The future light
The dreams get old

I hope
To be crushed
I live
To be dying
I sing
To be ignored
I care
To be neglected
I am free
To be caged.

Oh, this cage of mine.
Someday, someday
I will fly away
And be free.

Friday, October 12, 2012

I can't go to bed. I need any release just to feel that I am not dying. I am terrified to go to bed and just let it go. I ate so much. I worked so hard to get where I am, and it's all wasted because of one day of stuffing my face. I am so tired of having to hope. With my mental issues, if I tried to get a full time job I would break down and it would never work. I KNOW this. I am not just saying never because I am trying to be dramatic. How am I ever supposed to get out without anyone else's help? How am I ever supposed to have independence? I'm not. This is pure torture.
I don't need encouragement or support. I don't want any.
I am writing this all for me this time. I just... Don't know what to do. I am dying on the inside from the fear of tomorrow, the fear of the next day, the fear of talking to someone. I am afraid to talk to anyone.
My mom is adopting a new baby boy this week and it feels so wrong to me. I am not sure how to accept this. I am hurt that she would not cosign the application for the apartment or let my dad do it because they don't want to jeopardize their credit score. She told me my dad was getting a promotion and would be able to afford it, if for any reason one of us lost our job and couldn't pay rent. Then I called her again, yesterday I guess, and she said she had talked about it with my dad, and she just said that even with his promotion they would not be able to pay rent for us if one of us lost our jobs. I asked if she trusted me and she said trust wasn't the issue, and that we couldn't control losing a job anyways, so trusting us didn't matter. The thing is, she is adopting some stranger's baby and paying thousands on it, and my dad makes AT LEAST $60,000 a year, but they can't afford to pay nothing but just sign a paper for me to escape from my Hell. It kills me that my mom can just act like that. I do not feel like she portrays the real love of a mother for her first daughter, or for a daughter at all. I don't want to talk to her, I am so hurt. I am tired of all of it. D's parents won't co-sign either.
This is not going to happen. I am stuck in those apartments with my ex and his family. I am fucked. I do not want to have another winter like last one and they are constantly getting worse and worse as years go by. I can't do last year again. If I try to kill myself, I will either succeed or suffer. I will not tell anyone what I am doing this time so I can't be taken to the ER and made to puke up meds that never would have any affect on me anyways. How humiliating. The entire thing was humiliating. I cannot stand the look on a nurse's face as she tells me it would never have worked, or asked me why I would do a stupid thing like that. I seriously want to die and they treat me like a little child who wants attention from mommy and daddy. I hate the shame of failing to kill yourself. It is the worst feeling in the world. If you are depressed enough to REALLY want to die, you can't be pathetic enough to fail at it. I can still remember their looks from back at the beginning of the year when it happened...
I am so tired of my mom though. I am tired of that whole family that is related by blood to me. It makes me so sick to my stomach. She has no feelings but for herself. Now that she has a new baby in her life to coddle and get attention from, now that she can feel young again because she has a newborn child, even the youngest of my blood siblings will get pushed aside. I hate my life. I hate their lives for them. I hate the fact that money comes before anything else. It doesn't matter if I need help, if I am dying on the inside and starving on the outside. That becomes my fault. I chose to do it to myself. Because I can choose to make my own choices, any mistake I make or way I think, any incorrect aspect of my life becomes my own fault. She can only be held responsible for the good parts of me I guess, but I am dying because she will not even take credit for those. I do not exist to her anymore. I never really did, but now, out of sight, out of mind. The only time she has called in months was to tell me that she had a new baby to dote on. For some reason becoming an adult meant that I had to learn and grow and be supported fully by myself. I get NOTHING from her. She can't give it.
I told D I would not cut tonight. I'm not sure I can hold to it but I am afraid that he will be angry with me. He said he would be. My only vice, one that he likes and one that he himself has experienced, is blocked off to me for the chance that the one person who treats me like I matter, will get angry at me.
DOES ANYONE ELSE KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO DIE ON THE INSIDE EVERY DAY??? I know I am not the only one, but I am more than dying. I am going down fast. I CAN'T gain. I CAN'T get fat. I CAN'T do life anymore.
I don't want to do this anymore... I am going to try and sleep but I know that my dreams will be haunted. I am terrified of tomorrow. I wonder if I will be able to even get out of bed...
I have no reason to live. D is becoming a stress instead of a vacation. He has passed into another area of people in my head, and the place he left is empty. I really have no reason to live, and what reasons anyone can find for me seem worthless to me. This outweighs it all. Please don't tell me how worried you are. As soon as I take my meds and post next I will make this sound like an episode anyways. I just wanted, needed, to express my feelings of helplessness and pain for no other reason than to delay going to bed. Goodnight.
I just want to be skinny.
I was watching a documentary that followed a few girls in a rehab facility for people with eating disorders, and the girl I associated with myself the most ended up being the one who in the end, made the least progress and left and lost it all again. The one who could not be helped. I find it scary and yet invigorating. I can't get it out of my head.



These are just links to a certain part of it. Skip to the end of the first one to see what is going on, and it continues on in the second video. It's shockingly painful but feels so true.



I don't want help, and I don't care to live really or I wouldn't be doing this. It sucks but that is the truth of it.
I don't care if I can't stop and keep going until I waste away to nothing. It sounds more honest than saying I just want to be thin anyways. It's an obsession that I use to cope with my issues, and I use it to feel like I am in control of even just one part of my life. I fucked that up today though.
I am posting right now because I feel very, very, very off.
I don't think I am going to be able to get into an apartment this year at all. D keeps reassuring me but it just never gets through. No one will co-sign for us. We only make about 1 and 1/2 of the rent for this perfect place that allows pets and is close enough to work and has a special offer of $200 deposit + $99 first month rent.
I hate my life.
I am at D's again, although I don't know why really. I'm not sure I really want to be here, but I don't want to be there either so I am in constant limbo. It just feels like I am escaping back and forth between several places that are both uncomfortable and scary.
I am getting more and more convinced towards D, but I wonder if I am just settling. Is it his gentle hands I am really feeling on my head? I wonder if I imagine it to be H's. I wonder if I am just shifting my emotional dependence to another person. Maybe I am just shifting my affections onto someone new. I feel like maybe, I can't feel secure without a guy and that is a problem. With no one to direct all my attentions to, I think I would be able to heal. Without someone to pick up the slack and be there for me all the time, I could learn self respect and independence. I am scared and tired.
I ate way too much today. I can't even count the number of calories I must have had. I had an enormous sandwich earlier after my meds and a cream soda. Then I have had kit-kats all day long. 70 calories each I believe, but I had way too many. I know that the cheeses I piled onto that sandwich were like, 70 to 80+ calories each and I had baby swiss, cheddar, pepper jack, pepper cheese, and a few other kinds. I had at least two of each, for some of them even more. I put mayo on it because there was no mustard, and then piled on lots of slices of chicken and pepperoni. The bread itself was at least 100+ calories per slice, which I had two of.
Then the kit-kats.
I was lucky enough to only be 141 point something this morning, without sleep. And even though I was dead exhausted this morning from not sleeping, I am so tightly wired that I can't sleep. I am wide awake, full of energy. I'm sitting down and my leg is doing that jumping thing that a lot of people do when they have ADHD- just subconsciously trying to rid the body of so much energy I guess.
D is waiting for me in the bed but I don't want to go.
I don't know what is going on with me anymore.
I had at least ten kit-kats. That is 700 calories. Add in a few more, the apple juice and the cream soda that I never count, the reeses that I knew I was snacking on before the sandwich, 110 each... The sandwich...
The sandwich must have been at least 1,000 calories on it's own...
I am so torn apart. I didn't even eat dinner. I just snacked all day long and now I am basically panicking, wondering if there is any possible way to burn it off before going to bed, but I know he will be waiting for me and if he hears me pacing his living room he will come and find me. Even if he falls asleep he will wake up later on and look for me. It's pointless. The walking would barely burn a few hundred at 2-3 hours anyways.
The math in all of this is killing me. I have been doing so terribly lately, but never this terrible. I am going to gain at least two pounds by tomorrow. I already know it. And I am trapped.
I'm not manic depressed or panicked about life, or going to do anything drastic but I wish desperately that I had the strength to do so.
My life is going nowhere. I am failing at getting to my goal. I am still a whole fucking 141+ pounds. I am running out of time. I need to be tiny. I need to be one last breath away from dying. I need to scare people, and yet I just want to be left alone. This life is horrible and it just keeps going. Nothing can make it stop. Nothing. Even if I did move out, there is nothing for me out there. I will always be depressed. Medications and psychologists can't cure this thing I have. I am tired of people telling me how much they want me to get better from an illness that cannot really be cured. There is no cure for depression, anxiety, eating disorders...
I cut today. I found the knife I had with teeth and I tore through my leg. The worst part is that D enjoyed watching it. I don't mind because it was exciting for me. I like to cut. It's dark and unhealthy but the cutting is nice. He wanted to see so I smiled, put my foot on the bed and just slashed it once against the side of my leg. The blood dripped very quickly down my leg into a mess. He helped me clean it up a little but he wanted to taste the blood. I don't feel that it's wrong either. I mean, more than anything I just wish that some shock would register on his face when I inflict a physical wound on myself, and that he would care enough to be concerned or at least tell me to stop. But he didn't. It was the same thing when I was talking about my eating disorder. He was excited about it, and I would even go as far as to say, he found it attractive, but when I told him that I was disappointed that he didn't care about it, he corrected all of that.
He said when he thought I was going to far he would say something. Wow. Encourage me to hold on to something that can kill me, until it is too late. Then what could he possibly say that would make me recover? He said he would pick me up and carry me to a hospital if he had to, and I asked for warning first. If it gets to that I am running. I am hitting the streets.
I have no dreams right now though except for being smaller...
Thank you Lilly Forever and thank you Rayya for the comments.
I am feeling okay. I got re-hydrated but my body just doesn't seem to hold onto water for very long at all. I need to remember to drink more liquids regularly and every day.
I'm not vegan right now.
And I'm not supposed to have dairy but thanks. I have dairy most of the time anyways even though I'm not supposed to so maybe I will go get some skim milk (they call it that here too I am pretty sure) and drink it with some kind of food that will soak it up some. I don't know.
I don't know if I am really gluten intolerant as the tests came back fine but maybe they were just checking for Celiac's and wouldn't have picked up anything less...?
All I know is that their tests always come back normal for me, and they haven't found anything wrong, even when I am eating perfectly normal, drink water and stay hydrated, and getting enough sleep. They can write it off to stress but I feel sick even with no stress and all of those healthy habits in place. I'm tired of testing though. It's starting to feel like I'm making it up or it's all in my head...
But I am not super depressed at the moment I don't think... I feel strange and my body hurts but I'm okay overall... Either that or I can't feel anything and I am mistaking it for happiness. But oh well. :)

Somehow this never got posted from a few days ago... I found it still as a draft. How disappointing...

Monday, October 8, 2012

To Alice May, who seems to be my new follower- Welcome!
Thank you for commenting. I realize that everyone has bad days and busy days and sometimes other kinds of days, and can't always comment but it is exciting when you do.
This is a reply to your comment I guess.
D is not my boyfriend and he says he doesn't have a crush, he just meant he likes her as a friend. We will see how that goes. Maybe read back a little farther to get the whole story on him? Even just a few days back of posts might help.
Thank you by the way. I do feel pretty mature. Sometimes people assume I am immature because I can act quite like a child at times and I am a bit slow, but my intelligence doesn't really emerge during first impressions. When people really get to know me they are somewhat surprised I suppose. Some people still can't shake that first impression of me...
I get anxious or shy and my voice goes up like a child, and then I have a nervous giggle, or I just seem quiet and standoffish. I am also very clumsy and all that and more contributes to this immature first image people have of me.
I am actually glad that he is honest with me.
Maybe letting go for a bit to learn to smile and laugh about something would be good for you though. It can be hard to just be silly every once in a while but life must go on and all of that.

On an unrelated note, I think my eating disorder is becoming worse, or maybe just becoming a disorder. I mean, I am used to hearing about how one will try to resist food for a long period of time, or even just for the day and failing. I haven't heard of anyone quite like me though. I'm not sure what to think of it. Does it mean I have a different kind of eating disorder? Does it just mean I am different? Or does it mean I don't really have an eating disorder? I'm not sure.
I do know some things though. Like somehow I have come to the point that when everyone is around me having treats and things, I want them less. I used to just go for it and stuff my face.
I also realized that I don't really resist food, I just don't want it.
My appetite is less and less all the time. Somehow, I think maybe I successfully convinced myself that I am not hungry, or don't want to eat food. At some point in my head, a switch was flipped. Instead of craving food, I have a hard time coming up with enough appetite, or maybe energy? Motivation? To actually get food down. It's effortless.
One other thing I know, I am losing weight at an increasingly fast rate. It used to take months to get through a set of tens. For example, 160's and 170's. I was in the 150's for a while, but not as long as the examples I just used. And I just got into the 140's and I am already almost out of them. It's exhilarating, but also sort of scary. When I hit my goal weight, I'm not sure if I am going to be able to stop. In fact, I am pretty sure that I won't stop. And I'm not sure why I would want to... That is me talking backed by a positive attitude, so it isn't even panicked or depressed me talking. It's strange. I'm not sure what to think about all of this, except that I feel so close to my goal weight and yet I can't get there fast enough...
I'm going now. Stay safe all of you please!
So as I promised, I am posting a continuation of the last post about D wanting to get an apartment that allows pets and why.
I am at D's house right now. Let me catch everyone up to this point.
The day before yesterday I had both H and his sister K hounding me about food the way they do.
For H, it is making food and then having me eat parts of it. He had chicken ball things and would put it on a fork and offer it to me and when I said no thanks, he tried to get me to eat them anyways. It got to the point where I had to open my mouth because I couldn't lean any farther back and he would have gotten the sticky outside stuff on my face. They were super high calorie I know. I don't know the exact number. He would also do that thing where he would ask me if I was hungry and I would say no, but he wouldn't listen.
He would say, "I'm going to make you something anyways. What do you want?"
"I don't want anything," I would reply.
"Do you want a cheeseburger? Cereal? A sandwich?" These are just examples. I would repeat that I'm not hungry or something and that I ate.
He would ask me when I ate, and if I paused or he could easily disprove my answer, he would choose something from the list of things he knows I like and make it for me. It's usually something of his or something that takes an effort to make. I can't just refuse food then.
Then of course, K and her ever constant mothering.
"You aren't eating enough."
"Have you eaten already?"
"I have this special... (insert any number of things here, last time it was something chocolate) Do you want some?"
"You are always dehydrated. I'm going to pour you some juice and then you will drink it."
"When was the last time you ate?"
The list goes on. She can actually get very bossy and intimidating if I even stop sipping my drink for too long. I don't really mind K too much besides that controlling thing. I was actually just texting her. I enjoy her company.
So yesterday morning after all of that, I gained about two pounds. I was about 142 pounds I think. D took me to work yesterday morning. I worked 11:30am to 3pm, and then 4pm to 8. He just worked 11:30-3. But he got really sick and was puking so he went home early even then. During my break I texted D to make sure he was okay and apologize for being somewhat mean that morning. I felt really guilty. I didn't do anything SUPER mean though. I was just grumpy and rude, maybe because I was stressed out about the day before and my weight gain. I told D during my break about what K and H had been doing the day before. I told him how much my appetite goes away when they try and control my eating or even just have anything to do with my eating habits. After break, someone bought several bags of candy and even the nicer manager was snacking on the different kinds, and was coming to the front where I was doing very little (it was a kind of slow day) and telling everyone there was food in the back, asking, "Does anyone want some candy?"
It's a Sunday so the manager who I usually have a bit of trouble with wasn't there. She is known to never work on Sundays. But everyone kept asking me if I wanted some, and then asking me why when I politely turned it down.
I would say, "I'm not really hungry."
One girl replied, "So? I'm not hungry and I'm having some."
I tried saying I don't like candy or don't have an appetite. I hate the attention they gave me for just turning down a treat. If I didn't have any appetite before then, I really had none after that.
When I got off I had already missed the last bus though. I had not even thought about it, but on Sundays the buses don't run as late. D couldn't leave his place yet and so I walked the three and a half miles home. Then he picked me up and brought me back here. The main reason I wanted to come over was because I really did not want to face H and K again for fear that they would do the same thing again. I knew D wouldn't. And he didn't.
Yesterday, I had a 400+ calorie cheeseburger, a Reese's cup at about 110 calories, and I ate the last of the pepper jack cheese. I have no idea how many calories all that was. I had some sherbet ice cream in little containers, 80 calories each that I brought over, along with my candy stashes and some cream soda and my new water bottles. D got us both one last night and I was eating it so slow it was ridiculous  I just didn't want to have anything to eat at all. I had maybe a few very tiny bits and then gave him the rest.
He is learning where my boundaries are now. Last night was better. He knew even before I emailed him telling me how I felt about all of that stuff that happened last time I was here that something was wrong, even though I was having a hard time even being able to make out something was wrong to myself. My wall keeps others from seeing how I am feeling, but it also stops me from seeing how I am feeling. But somehow he knew, he felt it, and had gotten very angry and upset with himself.
This is becoming a long post... Sorry about that but I have a lot to say all on the same subject.
So I sent him this extremely long email and I ended up just spilling out every thought and wrote like... A novel. I wrote him two novels. No not really but it was really long. I wrote it on the morning of the fifth, three days ago. It make him feel really bad but for once I was at least honest with myself and someone else. I was brutally honest. I made myself resist just making excuses to make everything okay again, which was really hard but I ended it with a kind of... Nice resolve.
The main part of the email was saying how hurt and troubled I was by when he had crossed the line last time I was here. I explained that sometimes I have a hard time saying no, because I feel like it is something to feel guilty for when I withhold other people from doing something that will make them happy. I never realized I had that problem until now. Anyways, I felt a lot better after I wrote the email and I forgave him, because I know he really is suffering the guilt and I know he really does feel bad and I guess regrets what he did. I feel that he is strong enough to move forward from that and learn to do better. Then I talked a lot about how I am not a sexual person, and how even though I have lost my virginity  I greatly regret it, and I don't want to have sex again until I am married. I talked about how I miss my innocence, and how, the things that make me happiest have nothing to do with sexual things. I talked about how I want a cleaner essence of living, and perhaps the reason I am so sick and depressed all the time is because I chose such a high standard for living and for how I want myself to be, that in this dying, sick world with so little people with any values or morals, it makes it extremely hard to maintain such a state of being. Towards the end I offered him something though.
I told him, if he got those tickets he said he would get us for a concert near the end of November, and found something warm and green, but not necessarily matching to go with my red dress, I would consider that a date. I made sure to specify that it was old school dating. One date would not mean we were girlfriend/boyfriend, or that we were "going out". It would be a date. And my first official one. H has never actually taken me on date, and besides him, I have only ever gone on friend dates, which I don't really count seeing as it was only as friends and I had no feelings for the other person.
I told him, until then, I don't want him to call me beautiful. I don't want to take credit for my beauty. I have no control over how I look and I did not create me. I do not like compliments or praise for things I did not earn. They literally just mean nothing to me most of the time. I would rather have someone tell me I am a hard worker or that I am mature than that I am beautiful.
I also told him that until then, he isn't allowed to say he loves me. I don't want to be told something and have to doubt it. For me, actions speak louder than words. Words don't seem to speak at all. One can easily say they love someone, but to prove it again and again is something else entirely. If he treats me right, I should feel that he loves me. I told him he needed to start using actions instead of words.
I was very depressed when he hadn't taken the time to even say hello to me. He couldn't find the time to talk to me for a few days and I was really hurt. When you have been through so much like I have, the thing you fear most is using too much of your heart and getting invested. If you don't get invested, you don't get hurt. I guess that is why my heart is so closed off now. I am too afraid to put myself out there for fear of the same thing happening again and again. I expect the same things to happen again and again, and because I know that I can only close myself off to prevent getting hurt when it does happen. This time I wasn't even ready for it. Having those few days feeling so alone...
It will happen again though. D will have to work several days in a row, or something else will happen... But it was such a deviating blow that was so unexpected, I guess it surprised me. One day I had a best friend who I could go to for anything and talk about my feelings and problems with, someone to keep me from feeling alone and then all of a sudden it was just gone.
Anyways. I think I got off track there.
I am really happy today. I came over here and we spent some time just talking and then we slept. I only got in a few hours but he was more aware of me and I was burning up all night for some reason but I was okay in the morning. He went to work, I allowed myself to stay another day by not going with him, and he just got back a few hours ago. I found his stash of Disney movies and it lightened my mood considerably too. I took my meds, ate some, but it was a safe amount. I feel like, being here, I will lose weight easily. He does not force me to eat anything. He worries, but as long as I eat one or two things every day I think he is more okay with it. I do that anyways so I'm not worried either.
But he has the whole basement to himself and a lot of nice things around so I can be comfortable. I like one of his chairs a lot. It has a rounded back and I just curl up in it.
To sum this all up, I am having a pretty good day. No anxieties. I am on a little vacation from life. He makes me feel very welcome and I can have things my way, whichever way makes me most comfortable. I would even go as far as to say that today I am happy. Smile everyone! :)