Wednesday, August 31, 2011
it could also be because all i ate today was broccoli and quinoa and beans, and ice cream. i had like 3 spoons of ice cream.
fuck the fiber man, fuck the fiber.
i wanna get high, and wear gypsy clothes, and have abs, and be able to hula hoop, and have dreadlocks :(
instead im chillin in my grey sweatpants and black dragonforce tshirt.
i do love this shirt though :)
so today was ok ish, i had a HUGE convo with my philosophy professor about descartes and berkeley and perceptions and the matrix...
this guy is seriously philosophically corrupting my mind, and i fucking love it!
also, i am WAY ahead in all of my textbooks.
and i have As in all my classes.
but seriously its the second week so bleh
im also extremely depressed and i hate everything
its fascinating to me how when im most depressed im also the fattest and most scholarly productive.......WTF it doesnt make sense.
i dont wana be skinny and stupid but i dont wanna be fat and nerdy lol :(
OH also im poor as fuck. like i ate the last of my quinoa so now i only have ramen, dried beans, and frozen broccoli...
and like hot chocolate lol
im ready to go prostitute now >:D
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
but like the actual bitch girl, now she has like, this FUCKING BOMBSHELL BODY like PERFECT boobs, Perfect ASS and like abs and toned legs
oh and she's tan. and she surfs. and her hair is just like AMAZING.
and she's a freaking amazing artist.
i hate her.
i want to kill her with my hands.
i want her life :(
(reason to delete facebook/reason not to delete facebook)
Monday, August 29, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
lol do NOT EVER take shots of everclear
unless you wanna wake up in the middle of nature next to a drunk bitch that pissed herself lol
Saturday, August 27, 2011
put on pandora radio to listen to as i read, and like 6 songs in a row come on, eithe jake's favorite band, or songs he used to play, or songs about "i miss you" "you're gone away" stuff like that...
six fucking songs
i was like jake, seriously, i need to concentrate, stop trying to talk to me through pandora...
it feels so retarded to be bawling my eyes out in a library :(
luckily, there aren't that many people on this floor..
i miss him so much.
THEN, after those songs stopped, it was like normal ish... i finished a chapter in my child/developmental psych book, and now there are anti-suicide songs on.......
I GET IT JAKE OK?! :'(
Friday, August 26, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
When the monsters in the shadows make you hide in fright
And the sounds they make scare you and keep you up at night
When the voices yell above you and you have to plug your ears
Or turn the music louder to drown out your worst fears
When the giggles make you crazy and their cooties make you sick
And even when you think their pretty but don’t know which one to pick
When the pressure overwhelms you and you feel you need a friend
Or just anyone to talk to, I’ll be with you until the end.
When the world leaves you stranded, abandoned, and alone
I’ll be there even when I’m far away; just call me on the phone.
I love you more than words can say, and we’ll always have each other.
You’ll always be my superman, my only little brother.
A little girl is dancing with me; light, happy, free and frail,
Empty enough to face the world; she holds my hand so I won’t fail.
There’s yelling again, and she covers my ears, and tells me everything will be ok soon,
But still, a hungry shadow envelopes me; the mirror shows me a fat red balloon,
And my heart beats faster, harder. So I curl up and try to sleep
But the feeling in my stomach won’t let me keep
My cool. Everything bites at me, eats at my nerves, so I yell back,
Knowing it won’t fix anything. I have to get back on track.
The emptiness is gone now, taken over by my gluttonous mind
That won’t stop reeling. I cannot see anymore; my tears make me blind.
I can’t see, only feel, and oh do I feel too much for my skeleton to stand.
Emotions like electric current flood me, shocking the little girl. She drops my hand.
There are too many feelings. I feel too alive.
They try to control my existence. I’m scared. I want to run and hide.
I need to dull the sadness and heal, or at least numb the pain.
So I fill myself too full, the only way to feel empty again.
That’s when the fat ugly monster rears to chase the little girl away.
I want to fight the beast for her, but he shrinks the balloon, and dims it to gray.
The little girl is frightened, in hiding, but she’ll come back. She always will.
But she makes the grotesque monster angry, so she waits always just until
We’re dancing in sweet starvation again. This is when the monster strikes the worst.
But I love the monster’s numbing peace, and yet I live for the little girl’s endless curse.
i am not myself, i am not this person.
this body, face, and hair,that is mine,
but it is also not mine at all.
i have gone away, vacation to nowhere,
someone else is filling in while i am out,
feeding my pets for me so they don’t go hungry.
she forgets to feed them.
i don’t know where i am, i dont know who this ‘me’ is.
her lips say my words
or rather, my lips speak her words.
and she drinks all my fucking vodka.
pick yo favorite! these are seriously the only three out of a million that make sense. i went through like 17 notebooks, i think? anyway, most of the poems i have written were in like middle school so they were extremely corny-emo like "my mommy hates me i cut my wrist my grandpa died he wouldn't take me with him waahh" i literally LOL'ed at most of them. in one of my journals i wrote "i really just want to kill myself before people start labeling me an emo kid, that is the last thing i want to be" while i wrote it with my bangs covering my face, my dark eyelines, my hundred bracelets, my emo music in the background lol that was pre-goth heather, before i knew what drugs were lol... now im just normal ish on the outside. bleh. i feel cracked out today.
MOAR COFFEEEZZ >:D
(i love you guys!)
(especially peri :D)
(but everyone else tooo)
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
i was like, "what if everything i've ever written is all crap?" ugh so now i have to look through like twenty old notebooks with the pages stuck together and stuff to find a poem that is like the hay in the needlestack... :/
if i find one, i'll post it here. i wrote one a while ago about my little brother, i just have no idea where it is. i've written some ok ish ones about eating disorders and feeling trapped inside of this monster, but idk where they are either :p
oh! and also, they un-registered me from two of my classes... it was an accident, but it still means i have to re-register, however there is some weird hold on my account that they won't lift until i pay them $20 and i was like uh, i don't have the money... so it looks like i might only be taking three classes instead of five :'( i will never catch up :''(
i miss posting on here everyday, like not always about food shit but like everything. i don't really have anyone to talk to, and i know i don't really talk to you guys alot, but knowing that someone reads this helps i guess. especially because when i try to talk to people they almost always interrupt me and try to fix me but you guys can't interrupt because you're reading mwahahaha >:D lol
anyway, i love you guys, and for anyone who is reading this specifically for the food part, i haven't had anything solid except for one scrambled egg for like 3 days. i'm not healthy, but i'm in idgaf mode, and my tummy is smaller-ish so i can wear my cuter shirts finally... so... w/e :D
stay strong guys, i want to encourage everyone to NOT EAT LIKE ME, be HEALTHY and STRONG and fill your body with things that will IMPROVE it instead of starving it or trashing it. <333
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
also, (obviously) i did move back to school. my classes are cool so far, good teachers, etc.
philosophy through film, child and adolescent development, intro to nutrition, intro to poetry. easy classes.
i know i can make good grades f i actually try, but the trying part is so hard sometimes :(
but a lot of my younger friends from high school just graduated, so they just moved in too, so i have more of my closer friends back, which is cool because i like to be immature and crazy which is exactly what they are :)
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Saturday, August 13, 2011
.......and possibly dreadlocks......
but for now.... naked ddr >:0
Friday, August 12, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
also, i had the perfect bulimic night: lilo, stitch, pasta, cookies, yoo-hoos :)))
i didn't get everything up, but i surprise myself at how good i am getting at this again... i am upset at how exceedingly happy this makes me.
nighty night <3
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
home all alone until 5pm, it's 11am....
i canNOT binge today, and i HAVE to work out.
because i'm going out tonight, and i need to look as good as possible.
DDR, HERE I COME!
but i feel so lazy today, i just wanna lie around and watch movies and eat delicious food :(
i hate being addicted :p ughhhh
instead of bingeing, i ate around 1000 calories throughout the day and burned off 1250 playing ddr. and now it's happy hour :D
Monday, August 1, 2011
Lucie ‘Blue’ Owen wrote this exactly 1 week before her passing, July 22nd, 2011 due to complications to her anorexia. 77lbs.
"I lay in bed last night, for a good three hours while insomnia, and a good number of other things plagued my mind. At first I lay there, just still, and after a while of counting my heart beat (that seemed to be coming intermittently every three seconds, with the occasional absence), I let the tears burn, as itch and they rolled down each side of my face. Warm, and fast.
I was asked last week, a number of things. One of which was, “Do you want this to take your life?”. I thought about that question for a minute before answering. I replied with, “Not right now”. You see, I go through shifts of wanting to survive, or being okay with floating, and laying in bed and thinking about it all and just wanting my heart to stop altogether because its all just too overwhelming. Too much.
Funding for Inpatient at The Priory, it seems, may be an option. But when I stop and think about it, would I actually go if I got a place? I mean, I’d probably go to the initial assessment and see what the place is like, because I’m curious to how sick others are, or how much food they’re made to consume, or what processes others are made to go through (and the environments in which this is made possible) in order to ‘recover’ in hospital, but I don’t think I’d actually go home, pack my suitcase, and voluntarily have my mother drop me off there.
It goes so much deeper than any professional, friend, relative, or human being could ever begin to consider or understand. No institution is going to be able to take this away. But I’m not at that point, just yet (not quite), of acceptance. Where I’m stood right over the cliff edge and I’m saying “I’m ready to jump”. Right now I just want you to fucking push me. I don’t have it in me to jump myself (I’m just like my father).
Since dropping into the ‘12’ BMI today, its brought about a number of emotions. I consider myself invincible, since I was told around christmas time that a lot of people don’t survive to ever see that number. Along with that, I’m frustrated and defeated and hopeless because I can’t do anything to get myself out of a situation in that is evidently robbing me of so many opportunities and experiences I’m never again going to be able to have refunded. I’m also powerful. At times, I could lift up the entire planet earth with just one hand. I’m also terrified. Terror that goes so deep, and has manifested itself tight into every cell wall (membrane) of my being. That no drug on the market could possibly extinguish. That no professional could possibly begin to fix.
Since I’ve sunk to the bottom of the ocean (and since looking up, now, and only being able to see black, which I assume is the top) I have become more fearful than ever before. It haunts me when I sleep, not the usual once, but usually twice or three times, and thats every single night.
You can’t hold me while I put food into my mouth, because I’ll close my eyes and see it entering my mouth and making me gag. I’ll choke. I can’t eat anything, period. At home. In hospital. In therapy. It can’t enter my mouth. I can’t have it in my stomach. I’ll shower for hours. I’m dirty. I’ll sit by the fridge and rock and cry and eventually scream because I just don’t know what to do anymore. I’ll look in the mirror and sit on my bed and get up and collapse next to the mirror on my floor. I’ll sit in public toilets for hours (Rocking and crying) because I thought I saw his face in the que in the restaurant downstairs. I’ll drive home from the supermarket with my throat closed up, with no idea of who I am or where I’m going or whats happening to me because there was somebody familiar stood behind me (or following me) and its been 8 years. I’ll spend six out of the eight hours I sleep each night trying to (get) myself to sleep while I feel his body against mine, his breath on my chest (his stubble on my face). And I’ll sit stark upright at 2, 3, 4, 5am in the morning because his face hit the back of my eyelids knocking me bolt upright, and I have to gather the pieces of myself together (like I do every fucking night) and drag myself to the window and stare at the houses of the people in my neighbourhood, who have their curtains closed (who are asleep), and wonder how the fuck I’m supposed to lead a normal life. I’ll paint my nails as quickly as I can because I can’t stand to look at my hands (or my thighs which I tend to get glimpses of every now and again). I’ll spend some of my time on the stone cold bathroom floor, shaking (oh, crying, surprised?) getting rid of the food I just ate, I’ve realised, in attempt to purge myself of the things I’m supposed to try and ‘get over’ and ‘move on’ from, but which I can’t, which therefore makes me an inadequate and weak human being. I feel empty and lifeless and a lot of the time, emotionless after those acts, and usually retreat to my bedroom where I sit on the floor and reel over the words of Dianne (“Think about where you’d be in 10 years if you didn’t recover now”, etc), or log onto Facebook and want to die as I witness everybody else living their lives through pictures as I continue to destroy my own. Or lie in bed with folders and folders of photographs and touch the face of the little girl I (used) to be, hoping (hoping) she’ll come back - but no longer wondering ‘what happened’….
Because we all know what happened."
she ran a vegan blog, click here to read it. if you go to her earliest posts and then look at her newer ones where she has pictures of herself, you can see she lost a TON of weight, i feel so bad right now, it makes me so sad to read this and see her struggle like that, and know that deep inside i want it to, but i also don't want it. i'm so conflicted :'( i wish someone could have saved her <3 r.i.p. <3