No, not alcohol, water.
Yeah, so today was a weird day. Dreary again. I was super tired, ate breakfast, purged, did some reading and drank some coffee. Then went to class, felt kinda unsure of myself and hated my hair. Proceeded to come back, eat a 230 calorie lunch, and resist binging on everything in the kitchen while Serena was at class. Then I went to my next course, only after the stupid toilet had gotten plugged up (thank GOODNESS not from my purging), so I was planning to have to get a plunger from the Housing Office in the guys dorm. Sat through class, was completely consumed with thoughts of binging. My stomach was just rumbling, growling, rumbling and I had such a headahce. I started thinking of what it'd be like to eat everything I wanted and that literally only made me hungrier. This temptation was so strong I literally thought about leaving class. Like, was just going to bolt so I could binge and binge. Oh my gosh, I was desperate but somehow managed to get through. Then I walked back to the dorms, saw a cute guy with an AWESOME leather laptop bag that I so wanted to ask him where in the world he had got it from but thought that'd be weird/he's a hipster so maybe he'd hate it. Came back, was alone in the dorm. Shoveled brownie after brownie in my mouth (about 5 brownies), simulatenously tearing apart the cupboard to grab a protein bar and chugging milk in between breaking my jaw in my fury to eat faster. I felt kinda scared Serena would come in before I was done, which did happen but luckily I was able to just hide the chocolate in my mouth and pretend to be grabbing a glass for some milk. Then Serena broke my heart with her kindness by giving me a box of M&I's she had bought for me, which I proceeded to eat a ton of with my milk. Then I thought, hell, I'm going with this as far as I want. I then made an egg mcmuffin with 3/4 cup cottage cheese for dinner, which was amazing. And then I made a 16 oz. chai and sat with a stomach ache while I worked on homework. I felt so sick and full and yet happy and worried that this would/will continue.
A little while late my roomie said she was going to step out to take a break and call her sister. I wasn't really planning to, but after she left I shoveled in another brownie and then went to the bathroom to purge because I was still so full. That was a gross purge. And here we come back to the title of this post. During all my food whoring I hadn't bothered to drink much liquid/water, so the purge was very, very chunky. Cottage cheese and eggs get nasty. After a while I could just so taste the vomit that I stopped; plus I didn't know how soon Serena would be back. I flushed twice, cleaned off the rim of the toilet bowl, washed my hands and popped in some gum after rinsing my mouth and spraying some Febreeze in the bathroom. So now I still feel very full, although I'm happy that I was at least partially able to redeem myself (as in maybe 10 calories less than my binge). I feel so fat, my stomach is huge and I wish I felt skinny/could purge more but what else can I do? No workout today, which sucks but also comes with binging, typically. Plus last night I could NOT sleep after running...and I'm supposed to go watch a movie with Charity tonight, so that should be fun.
Anyways, just wanted to share...not sure what tomorrow's going to be like.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Monday, August 20, 2012
i cant
i just cant do this. i cant do it. i cant, i cant, i cant. i want to cry and cut and purge. im so scared and lonely. i hate it. and i hate it because i have no escape, no where to go. i cant go home. i simply cannot imagine going back and returning to that old pattern of things. i would never be able to purge, id have no future, no way to supprt myself and it would be years before id be willing to try again. and so much money and work and time has been invested in me going here. not to mention facing all the people i just said goodbye to. hey, it's just me, the fucking bitch who bragged about college endlessly and then went and started crying and came home to mommy instead. i just hate being here, i hate it and i want to leave. i cant do it and now wonder why i ever thought i could. why the hell did i ever believe that i was special enough to just conquer this thing? like college would be no fucking big deal. it's not like i just want home; no i simply dont want to be here. i feel like i spend so much more time on school than anyone else does. and im completely unwilling to just strive for B's or C's. i will either quit or get A's. period, end of discussion. other kids manage to do it, and if i cant then im not the good student i thought i was.
i just hate me so much. and i know that if any of my friends here found out that i was such a hypocrite about my faith, etc. they'd just leave me, they'd totally reject me and hate me. i feel like such an outcast; i dont feel like i can connect with people or keep them around, i dont feel like people want me. i feel lonely and hurt and ugly and fat. and i just want to cry and hurt myself. i wish i could just tell Charity that i was having a really hard time, that i cant adjust, i dont feel like i can do it. but of course no one would understand that. they'd just say, well just take it a day at a time, hang in there, things'll get better. BULL SHIT. i dont know how to handle this. i feel like i cant breathe. im not the fucking reject who sits and cries in her dorm room after classes all day! that's not me.
fuck. the other thing too is that i might be getting my period soon, so maybe that's why im so emotional. which is good and bad, because maybe this will pass. but i also dont want to just sit here feeling like im illegitimate in all im thinking and feeling.
i just dont know what the hell to do. i dont just want to sit in my dorm, i want people, but i feel like people dont want me to hang out with them or i dont want to hang out with them.
what a fucking failure.
i just hate me so much. and i know that if any of my friends here found out that i was such a hypocrite about my faith, etc. they'd just leave me, they'd totally reject me and hate me. i feel like such an outcast; i dont feel like i can connect with people or keep them around, i dont feel like people want me. i feel lonely and hurt and ugly and fat. and i just want to cry and hurt myself. i wish i could just tell Charity that i was having a really hard time, that i cant adjust, i dont feel like i can do it. but of course no one would understand that. they'd just say, well just take it a day at a time, hang in there, things'll get better. BULL SHIT. i dont know how to handle this. i feel like i cant breathe. im not the fucking reject who sits and cries in her dorm room after classes all day! that's not me.
fuck. the other thing too is that i might be getting my period soon, so maybe that's why im so emotional. which is good and bad, because maybe this will pass. but i also dont want to just sit here feeling like im illegitimate in all im thinking and feeling.
i just dont know what the hell to do. i dont just want to sit in my dorm, i want people, but i feel like people dont want me to hang out with them or i dont want to hang out with them.
what a fucking failure.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
barista-ing
So today was my last day working at Irish Blessings Coffeehouse. I cannot believe how lucky I got with that job. No joke, like, seriously...unbelievable. I didn't even seek out or interview for the job. My older sister had been working there the previous summer, and when we got back from our roadtrip to take her out to school there was a message on our machine from her boss asking if I'd like a job there. This was quite perfect really, seeing as how I had been bugging my parents for a while about their letting me please not be someone who gets out of college with no money, no car, and no way of supporting myself. PLEASE let me get a job! They reluctantly agreed to let me have a go at it if we set up some strict rules about the number of hours I'd work and if I'd keep in mind that school was always to remain the priority. Fast forward two years, and here I am, a store-manager who's just graduated from high school with a year of college credit under my belt along with a two week trip to London with my best friend, ready to go attack uni in VA. This job gave me so much....
Financially, I never would have been able to do half the "fun stuff'' that I did in high school with other kids or by myself. I never would have been able to pay for two college classes in my senior spring semester. There would have been no trip to London and no funds stored up for college. There also would have been no INSANITY nor some of the extra little cushion money I had to help out with when my dad got a blood clot in his lungs last fall.
Personally, I would be a very different individual today if I hadn't gone through all those experiences at work. I would never have learned that, actually, I can manage a job along with schoolwork. I would not be nearly as good a multitasker as I am now, nor as skilled at handling tricky customers. Or great customers either, for that matter. I would never have gained so much confidence in myself or my ability to learn new skills. I would never know just how greatly hard work pays off and what sacrifice really means (a nine-hour shift on a Saturday in the summer when you've been up since 5:00am and your feet are swollen).
My boss and her husband are seriously the best. No screwing around here, no kiss ups. Natalie and Chris are generous beyond belief. Natalie was and continues to be very patient with her employees. She gives second chances, doesn't expect perfection, and has the best sense of sarcastic humor. She's also very open to suggestions about how things can be improved. She and Chris have created a business in which customers, employees, and honesty are valued, truly. I love Natalie; she, and Chris, and her parents, and her sister Tammy, will be at my wedding. Now that's not to say that there were never days in which I came home frustrated with her. She does have a tendancy to be impulsive and when things go unplanned, become a little crazed and rushed. And I never liked being yelled at get out to the counter when I couldn't hear customers come in. Also, since I'm finally done, may I just say a royal FUCK YOU to deep cleaning! hahahaha OH that felt good man! Deep cleaning was never my fav; although it did need to be done. Anyways, the point is, there were good and bad things with Natalie. But the good made up about 90% of her character, and the bad the other 10%. Yeah, essentially a kick-ass boss who I very muchly enjoyed working for. Love you Nat!
I still remember on my first day at work without Natalie training me in. Tammy was working and the first thing she said to me when I came in was, "Welcome to the family, hun!" Followed by a very soft, sweet side-hug. I fail to think of another time when I had felt more accepted in public. And what a perfect welcome that had been. Working at IBC has been like working with family. Ironically, I truly did work with both my sisters as well, which was amazing. But truly--the fun, the challenging, and the rewarding days--just like working with family. Oh the things you learn as a barista at IBC....
<3
Financially, I never would have been able to do half the "fun stuff'' that I did in high school with other kids or by myself. I never would have been able to pay for two college classes in my senior spring semester. There would have been no trip to London and no funds stored up for college. There also would have been no INSANITY nor some of the extra little cushion money I had to help out with when my dad got a blood clot in his lungs last fall.
Personally, I would be a very different individual today if I hadn't gone through all those experiences at work. I would never have learned that, actually, I can manage a job along with schoolwork. I would not be nearly as good a multitasker as I am now, nor as skilled at handling tricky customers. Or great customers either, for that matter. I would never have gained so much confidence in myself or my ability to learn new skills. I would never know just how greatly hard work pays off and what sacrifice really means (a nine-hour shift on a Saturday in the summer when you've been up since 5:00am and your feet are swollen).
My boss and her husband are seriously the best. No screwing around here, no kiss ups. Natalie and Chris are generous beyond belief. Natalie was and continues to be very patient with her employees. She gives second chances, doesn't expect perfection, and has the best sense of sarcastic humor. She's also very open to suggestions about how things can be improved. She and Chris have created a business in which customers, employees, and honesty are valued, truly. I love Natalie; she, and Chris, and her parents, and her sister Tammy, will be at my wedding. Now that's not to say that there were never days in which I came home frustrated with her. She does have a tendancy to be impulsive and when things go unplanned, become a little crazed and rushed. And I never liked being yelled at get out to the counter when I couldn't hear customers come in. Also, since I'm finally done, may I just say a royal FUCK YOU to deep cleaning! hahahaha OH that felt good man! Deep cleaning was never my fav; although it did need to be done. Anyways, the point is, there were good and bad things with Natalie. But the good made up about 90% of her character, and the bad the other 10%. Yeah, essentially a kick-ass boss who I very muchly enjoyed working for. Love you Nat!
I still remember on my first day at work without Natalie training me in. Tammy was working and the first thing she said to me when I came in was, "Welcome to the family, hun!" Followed by a very soft, sweet side-hug. I fail to think of another time when I had felt more accepted in public. And what a perfect welcome that had been. Working at IBC has been like working with family. Ironically, I truly did work with both my sisters as well, which was amazing. But truly--the fun, the challenging, and the rewarding days--just like working with family. Oh the things you learn as a barista at IBC....
<3
Sunday, August 5, 2012
the food whore
so i was doing pretty well today; had just a 305 calorie breakfast and then was hoping to avoid lunch with the fam by going shopping in St. Cloud and b.s.ing that i'd buy lunch up there. which would probably just be a soy latte or some soup from Panera. but then i couldnt because the more i stressed and thought about it, i realized that i had to have my mom with me so i could actually buy what i needed to get. *angry sigh* so then i thought i could just lie my way through lunch, take a granola bar upstairs, eat-and-spit it out, and then avoid lunch, saying i'll get a coffee drink later instead. but then the food whore decided upon eating a 350 calorie lunch that these extra 150 calories were unacceptable and thus today would be a binge day. so i just gave in, ate another two pieces of cinnamon raisin toast, one with butter and sugar, and then made coffee with a hot cocoa packet. i dont give a shit now, except i am scared about these calories. im just going to get SO fat and again back everything i lost earlier this week! :'( fuck. but i see no point in stopping now; only wish i hadnt eaten bread so i could at least chug some water and try to purge a little in my room...but that's a no now. fuck fuck fuck...what the hell am i doing?
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Mia
so ive started purging recently. it's been about 3 wks of approximately 3 purges a week.
i dont know what to do now. i feel....lonely. and like everything ive been reading online is saying how bad purging is for you, how it doesn't help you lose weight, etc. etc. but then i watch these documentaries on people who've been bulimic for anywhere from 5-23 years, purging 2-3x A DAY, and they're not skeletons, and i just think, hell, im okay. oh and these people are thin! they're exactly what i need to look like. so i feel like saying BS to these sites. besides, this will not be a long-term thing.
my legs are just repulsive. so repulisvely fat. i hate them. the celluite, the rolls, the craters of fat pockets on my butt and thighs. i cant even sit in bermudas anymore and feel safe. im just so fat. so fucking fat. 35lbs overweight...disgusting. i cant imagine walking around with a 35lb backpack on each day, and yet that's exactly what im doing right now. how gross. what a fucking food whore. im so disgusting. ive gotta get this fat off. i must!
i hope when i go to college i have enough times of being alone so that i can truly binge and purge when i want/need to. it's pretty hard here. im so rarely ever alone, and of course when i feel a deep urge to b and p i cant because there's people here and no public bathrooms i can think of in which i would feel okay purging in. im too loud...i do this coughing thing when i gag, which really helps but is super loud. anyways, so yeah, college needs to have some alone time...and i need to practice quieter techniques.
*sigh*
i dont know what to do now. i feel....lonely. and like everything ive been reading online is saying how bad purging is for you, how it doesn't help you lose weight, etc. etc. but then i watch these documentaries on people who've been bulimic for anywhere from 5-23 years, purging 2-3x A DAY, and they're not skeletons, and i just think, hell, im okay. oh and these people are thin! they're exactly what i need to look like. so i feel like saying BS to these sites. besides, this will not be a long-term thing.
my legs are just repulsive. so repulisvely fat. i hate them. the celluite, the rolls, the craters of fat pockets on my butt and thighs. i cant even sit in bermudas anymore and feel safe. im just so fat. so fucking fat. 35lbs overweight...disgusting. i cant imagine walking around with a 35lb backpack on each day, and yet that's exactly what im doing right now. how gross. what a fucking food whore. im so disgusting. ive gotta get this fat off. i must!
i hope when i go to college i have enough times of being alone so that i can truly binge and purge when i want/need to. it's pretty hard here. im so rarely ever alone, and of course when i feel a deep urge to b and p i cant because there's people here and no public bathrooms i can think of in which i would feel okay purging in. im too loud...i do this coughing thing when i gag, which really helps but is super loud. anyways, so yeah, college needs to have some alone time...and i need to practice quieter techniques.
*sigh*
Thursday, June 28, 2012
b.e.d.
i am so fucking pissed and exhausted and depressed right now it's disgusting. i just am in absolute hellish hate. i got up and started binging this mornng before i'd even begun making breakfast. a cupcake--down, like that. then my two pieces toast with gobs of PB and honey. and then essentially 3/4 of a pack of graham crackers with lots of cream cheese and chocoplate chips on top. a glass of milk washed it all down nicely. and then i had some yogurt with granola, craisains, honey, and more chocolate chips mixed in, because, really, why the hell not? then just to keep things interesting i had my ususal coffee with a hot cocoa packet. or tried to, anyway, before i got so full and had such a stomach ache that i could barely drink half of it. there was no fucking way i was going to even try to workout today, like every other day this week. crap. i then went upstairs and cried my lungs out into my sheets. i continued stumbling around upstairs, crying and crying and struggling to breathe and collapsing in mom and dad's room. i tried to take a sip of water after this but ending up nearly puking in the sink instead, seeing as how my throat was too covered with mucus and i was giving a shuttery breath in at the same i was trying to sip. yes, nice, brown, hot-cocoa-filled hacking. lovely.
i showered then; tried not to let my sunburnt skin get touched by the hot water while washing my hair. that was interesting...i did manage to avoid eating lunch because i was so freaking full and luckily when mom asked if i'd eaten before work i just told her yes and she had no choice but to believe me because she had been grocery shopping over part of the lunch hour. so that was nice; i was so full there was no way i could have eaten anything.
next i went to work. i was actually--weirdly enough--in a good mood when i got there. i worked with Becca at tackling the closing list and helping customers and had a nice enjoyable time. i like Becca. :) then around 3:20ish i made a blended latte becuase i was really hungry and wanted my snack/lunch. so i downed that in a really, really short amount of time. seriously--i dont know if i've ever drank one that fast. anyways, then of course Becca left and i began to lust after food. i kept thinking about how weird this was and i kept wondering, are there seriously people who dont struggle with this? do i truly have binge eating disorder? or do i just overeat? this feels so normal to me; i cannot imagine ever not wanting to eat. doesn't that resonate with everyone? which, of course, made me just begin eating cookies so that i could ensure i was sick enough to deserve the diagnosis of BED. and then i kept being assaulted with the thought, who knew you'd suck so bad at recovery? again and again and again. who knew i'd be such a fucking bad recovery patient? who knew it'd get this hard? who knew i'd come across all these struggles with having compassion/being kind to myself and whether i deserved either of those things. just who the fucking hell would have ever guessed it? and then i ate some more cookies. and then even when i didnt really want it i had a scoop of cookie dough ice cream. i felt like i was eating it in slow-motion, hyper-paranoid of any sign of life from either the front or the back doors, nervous id get caught. yet i was so full at this point, so disgustingly full and just not wanting to eat anymore, that i kept wishing i didn't have to keep going. but then id remember how much work i would have to do if i ever wanted to recover. how recovery was hard. and then i thought about how there were other people--anorexics and bulimics and just people who generally had enough willpower to say no to food for a few days at a time (while i meanwhile gorged myself every fucking second i could)--that had to fight through recovery too. i considered how we were somewhat relateable in that, when they were tempted to run from food and all the emotional junk it brought, i was similarily tempted to run from all restraint and reminders that i should not eat and all the emotional processing that not eating requires. and i just felt like a complete loser and failure and fucked up mess. and i wanted to cry; but of course i couldn't because i was at work. anyways, so as closing time loomed closer and closer, i thought about not eating anymore, but decided why the hell should i? today is completely fucked. and even the thought that, hey, each day's a new day, you can change, just stop eating for three seconds. psh. right. i officially give you the title of BULL-SHIT. and i ate another few cookies as the cleaned up the airpots and espresso machine. my head was throbbing from sugar and caloric overload. and i felt depressed and just so damn tired. which reminded me that earlier today when i binged i had also felt really exhausted as well. all this overeating and no-exercising was tiring my body out, even with plenty of sleep and nothing stressing me. i only discounted 3 of the cookies i ate because i was, as always, afraid Natalie that would someday confront me on how much discounted food i buy when im at work after she has reviewed sale reports. which means more money but potentially less humiliation in the long run. i then delayed calling Danae to come pick me up so i could have a few minutes of alone time to process and sit in peace.
poor Danae. once i was in the car i slowly turned icy and silent. i just sat there, my sadness turning to burning anger and FUCKKKKK-like frustration. i came inside, Mom said hi, i said hi, she asked what was wrong, i said nothing, i proceed with gladiators on up to my room. sit down, turn on fan, begin this blog post. then i, as i knew i would, had to go down for dinner; the inescapable meal during which i endlessly felt like throwing up. i actually ate faster than everyone else, which was really wacked but i think i was just so full it was like, okay i have to eat this meal, just shove it in and be done with it. then you can finally get a break from eating. so i did and then sat there, surprise surprise, utterly exhausted. i came up to try and blog some more but then had to leave for church to help on the serving committe for our Q&A with the new youth pastor candidate. that was actually nice and a good distraction from my depression over my food issues. even though there was dessert there that i naturally devoured. now im home again and recalling all the shit that happened today and has been happening for the past week/longer.
i just really dont know what to do about this anymore. i dont fucking know what to do. im so worried that i maybe dont even want to get better, not really. because that means analyzing my emotions all the time and yet still feeling uncomfortable and upset and having to avoid any form of overeating. and ive tried that and i hated it and still hate it. i dont want to let this go! im....not...fucking...ready! i just cant do it. i cant get any better. or if i could "do" it i could never make it really last, not make it something that is my life and not just another front i put up for others. and i hate this because i feel like i cant tell mom and dad about any of this. i cant tell them the truth! and they'll never consistently help me anyways. not to mention the whole issue of my not being a Christian and thus never being able to find a permanent solution since this is quite a soul-issue. fuck. just FUCK! what the hell am i supposed to do now?! i feel like all this is just falling apart. i was doing so well and learning so much and trying really hard to do better and now im just completely back to square one. and im humiliated and embarrassed and ashamed and desperate and scared. every time i see an obese person, i just keep thinking, that's where im headed, that's where im headed. ive got to change! i just want to hide away and stop feeling and not be a part of this anymore! i dont want to feel life anymore! i just want to numb myself from it! i hate it i hate it i hate it. i dont want to feel anything anymore; good or bad. i just want to cut and leave this out. i cant handle feeling my emotions--i hate it and it hurts and there's no real coping mechanism beyond recognition.
and after im done crying about this i always feel like the biggest fucking self-absorbed bitch ever. because there are SO many problems bigger than this in the world! my fucking problems with overindulging are stupid and petty compared to what others are going through. im so freaking focused on only ME that i cant help anyone else! and consequently i feel like there's no point in even attempting recovery because it requires validating my problem, acknowleding that it is worth discussing and dealing with.
i just want out. i want out. i feel trapped and sick about all this. fuck.
i showered then; tried not to let my sunburnt skin get touched by the hot water while washing my hair. that was interesting...i did manage to avoid eating lunch because i was so freaking full and luckily when mom asked if i'd eaten before work i just told her yes and she had no choice but to believe me because she had been grocery shopping over part of the lunch hour. so that was nice; i was so full there was no way i could have eaten anything.
next i went to work. i was actually--weirdly enough--in a good mood when i got there. i worked with Becca at tackling the closing list and helping customers and had a nice enjoyable time. i like Becca. :) then around 3:20ish i made a blended latte becuase i was really hungry and wanted my snack/lunch. so i downed that in a really, really short amount of time. seriously--i dont know if i've ever drank one that fast. anyways, then of course Becca left and i began to lust after food. i kept thinking about how weird this was and i kept wondering, are there seriously people who dont struggle with this? do i truly have binge eating disorder? or do i just overeat? this feels so normal to me; i cannot imagine ever not wanting to eat. doesn't that resonate with everyone? which, of course, made me just begin eating cookies so that i could ensure i was sick enough to deserve the diagnosis of BED. and then i kept being assaulted with the thought, who knew you'd suck so bad at recovery? again and again and again. who knew i'd be such a fucking bad recovery patient? who knew it'd get this hard? who knew i'd come across all these struggles with having compassion/being kind to myself and whether i deserved either of those things. just who the fucking hell would have ever guessed it? and then i ate some more cookies. and then even when i didnt really want it i had a scoop of cookie dough ice cream. i felt like i was eating it in slow-motion, hyper-paranoid of any sign of life from either the front or the back doors, nervous id get caught. yet i was so full at this point, so disgustingly full and just not wanting to eat anymore, that i kept wishing i didn't have to keep going. but then id remember how much work i would have to do if i ever wanted to recover. how recovery was hard. and then i thought about how there were other people--anorexics and bulimics and just people who generally had enough willpower to say no to food for a few days at a time (while i meanwhile gorged myself every fucking second i could)--that had to fight through recovery too. i considered how we were somewhat relateable in that, when they were tempted to run from food and all the emotional junk it brought, i was similarily tempted to run from all restraint and reminders that i should not eat and all the emotional processing that not eating requires. and i just felt like a complete loser and failure and fucked up mess. and i wanted to cry; but of course i couldn't because i was at work. anyways, so as closing time loomed closer and closer, i thought about not eating anymore, but decided why the hell should i? today is completely fucked. and even the thought that, hey, each day's a new day, you can change, just stop eating for three seconds. psh. right. i officially give you the title of BULL-SHIT. and i ate another few cookies as the cleaned up the airpots and espresso machine. my head was throbbing from sugar and caloric overload. and i felt depressed and just so damn tired. which reminded me that earlier today when i binged i had also felt really exhausted as well. all this overeating and no-exercising was tiring my body out, even with plenty of sleep and nothing stressing me. i only discounted 3 of the cookies i ate because i was, as always, afraid Natalie that would someday confront me on how much discounted food i buy when im at work after she has reviewed sale reports. which means more money but potentially less humiliation in the long run. i then delayed calling Danae to come pick me up so i could have a few minutes of alone time to process and sit in peace.
poor Danae. once i was in the car i slowly turned icy and silent. i just sat there, my sadness turning to burning anger and FUCKKKKK-like frustration. i came inside, Mom said hi, i said hi, she asked what was wrong, i said nothing, i proceed with gladiators on up to my room. sit down, turn on fan, begin this blog post. then i, as i knew i would, had to go down for dinner; the inescapable meal during which i endlessly felt like throwing up. i actually ate faster than everyone else, which was really wacked but i think i was just so full it was like, okay i have to eat this meal, just shove it in and be done with it. then you can finally get a break from eating. so i did and then sat there, surprise surprise, utterly exhausted. i came up to try and blog some more but then had to leave for church to help on the serving committe for our Q&A with the new youth pastor candidate. that was actually nice and a good distraction from my depression over my food issues. even though there was dessert there that i naturally devoured. now im home again and recalling all the shit that happened today and has been happening for the past week/longer.
i just really dont know what to do about this anymore. i dont fucking know what to do. im so worried that i maybe dont even want to get better, not really. because that means analyzing my emotions all the time and yet still feeling uncomfortable and upset and having to avoid any form of overeating. and ive tried that and i hated it and still hate it. i dont want to let this go! im....not...fucking...ready! i just cant do it. i cant get any better. or if i could "do" it i could never make it really last, not make it something that is my life and not just another front i put up for others. and i hate this because i feel like i cant tell mom and dad about any of this. i cant tell them the truth! and they'll never consistently help me anyways. not to mention the whole issue of my not being a Christian and thus never being able to find a permanent solution since this is quite a soul-issue. fuck. just FUCK! what the hell am i supposed to do now?! i feel like all this is just falling apart. i was doing so well and learning so much and trying really hard to do better and now im just completely back to square one. and im humiliated and embarrassed and ashamed and desperate and scared. every time i see an obese person, i just keep thinking, that's where im headed, that's where im headed. ive got to change! i just want to hide away and stop feeling and not be a part of this anymore! i dont want to feel life anymore! i just want to numb myself from it! i hate it i hate it i hate it. i dont want to feel anything anymore; good or bad. i just want to cut and leave this out. i cant handle feeling my emotions--i hate it and it hurts and there's no real coping mechanism beyond recognition.
and after im done crying about this i always feel like the biggest fucking self-absorbed bitch ever. because there are SO many problems bigger than this in the world! my fucking problems with overindulging are stupid and petty compared to what others are going through. im so freaking focused on only ME that i cant help anyone else! and consequently i feel like there's no point in even attempting recovery because it requires validating my problem, acknowleding that it is worth discussing and dealing with.
i just want out. i want out. i feel trapped and sick about all this. fuck.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
the silhouette [and intricacies] of my prince
i want to spend the rest of my life with someone adventerous. i want to wake up and kiss a man who i just spent the previous day practicing archery with. i want to go sit on cushions and risk eating indian food with him, and then come back and try cooking the food on our own. i want him to be someone that i host dinner parties with, where there's quality conversations, comfort and security, and the room is filled with the aroma of sizzling meat and spicy veggies and there's hearty laughter and delectable wine. i want him to be someone who says, yeah, let's go take a salsa dancing class, and should we go for a run on this sunny day? and hey, let's plan for the future and be fiscally responsible and not take out that loan, i don't mind driving a beater car. i want him to dress artistically and enjoy design, because at the end of the day, i hug the metros, man! ;) i want him to love books and ideas and discussing what the role of government is. id love a guy who loves truth and God and life, who is vibrant and passionate about celebrating what is good and redeeming what is warped. the kind of guy who will shake hands with the outcast and pardon in silence the rudeness of others. this would be my ideal man. maybe, just maybe, we'll meet on a plane to Italy someday...
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