Wednesday, February 20, 2013

I lost two pounds since yesterday (by yesterday I really mean Monday).
I feel like crap. Nothing new there.
I got to see my brother for the first time in about three years, since my littlest sister died.
I told myself and my bf that I had to lose a few pounds before seeing him tomorrow. I did. I want to be the extra 1/2 pound down though. I want to be under 145, not at.
Yes, 145. I gained weight. I ballooned up like a massive bloated whale. I look ugly and disgusting. At this rate I feel like I will never be tiny.
I realized that I am in a sort of love triangle. I am just like Bella, only she chose the first.
I love my bf, but I obviously still have feelings for my ex, and why shouldn't I? I still live with him. H, my ex, is starting to cross lines. He has been slapping my butt a lot lately and holding me too close, flirting too much, hugging to tight... But I won't say no because I cannot risk upsetting him. And it blows. I am screwing myself over. It makes me hate myself. But oh well, at least now I have the energy to find the determination to lose weight. In other words, I am beating myself up enough to keep my hands and my mouth under control. Food is for people who deserve to live is my new motto rolling around in my head. I understand now how "Ana" really does become a voice in my head, and I created her.
I know that it isn't healthy to treat myself so badly but the pain is such a driving force that it feels good. I let it control me because I don't want to control me. I let it take over because it feeds the unhealthy creature inside me that makes me starve and cut, but also makes me create my art. I am messed up, but I like it. That is messed up... Oh well.
It's not like I have any friends here to judge me.
I hate being nocturnal.
My bf works during the day and so I never see him.
He did get the full time job, but he doesn't even fill out papers until the end of the month even though he basically got hired at the beginning of the month. It makes me feel like he is never going to start working there or get more money, or get me out of here. I need to get out of here. Then I can take regular showers, I can even take baths. I can stay clean and maintain myself and actually have the chance to try and dress up pretty once in a while. When I try and dress up pretty here it takes so much maintenance I stop bothering. Fur gets on all my clothes and the smell of the apartment sticks badly and the dogs are always climbing in my lap and they smell like piss.
The bathroom counter where the only mirror in the whole apartment is, has hair all over it because those who shave never wash the counter, and it has dirty clothes of the guys all over it that also smell like piss. That is a place every girl would love to use to put on make up. There isn't even a place to put my ponytail and I can't find either of my hair brushes because everything of mine is in one giant pile in the corner because if I had more stuff or put it anywhere else I would be yelled at.
I have been living out of bags and my backpack for so long, I'm not sure if I was given a proper room of my own to live in, I would know what to do with it. There is no room to sleep either. I have to sleep next to my ex or not at all, which is what I do half the time. My feet have to trail off the bed into the mess or I have to cram myself onto the mattress so that my head bangs into the dresser and my feet are bent up against the wall, or vice versa.
I live on this computer. When my bf doesn't come around, which is a lot, I sit on my mattress and eat, or play games on the computer. I don't go outside, and I don't have friends to hang out with. I sit in here and do nothing. I don't know what the weather has been like or anything that is going on. I don't talk to people. I have no social interactions. I talk with my ex when he forces me too. That's about it...
I miss my family but they don't miss me and they still want to move away from me. I won't get to see my little siblings grow up. The youngest is what? Four months now? And all brainwashed.
People say, "I don't understand how anyone would want to end their life." This is how.