Suicide Notes

It's been a rough few days. Yesterday, actually, went really really well as far as the eating and exercise is concerned. Probably ate about 600 cals, max, and really restricted nicely on what I ate. But, then again, I napped from 4-6:30, then got up, stared a the cieling, talked about depression with a friend, then slept from 8:00-6:30am this morning. I woke up feeling... really good! Invigorated, ready, motivated... a way I haven't felt in a very, very long time.

It didn't last long though. I started thinking - about what, I honestly couldn't tell you - but I stepped out of the shower and just thought to myself, Why bother? Why bother getting dressed, eating or not eating, worrying about homework, bringing a camera for the field trip or looking good for the volunteer photoshoot? To what point or purpose will the effort I put in right now, this very morning, matter in the long run?

So, I had a big breakfast, caring less than a tiger cares about a beaver, and did a 50% effort on making myself look decent. Then... at school (in Bio, rather, as it was my only class) a Teacher Appreciation cart came around and my bio teacher, god love him, picked off several cookies for those passing the class with about a 70% (i'm at 93%). The cookies were MASSIVE and coated with buttery icing. Everything in me screamed, "NO, FATTY!" but I still ate it graciously, joking even about how it was all going to my thighs. Truth hurts.

My english AP class took a field trip to see 7 Stories for the rest of the day. It was basically an absurd one-act play about a man standing on a ledge on the 7th floor contemplating suicide. The first 2/3 were comedic in nature... the play was a comedy after all... but the last bit was very poignant. It was one of those times where you could totally tell who in the audience had experienced suicide or suicidal thoughts and who hadn't. Some laughed when the Man explained his seemingly delusional issues with his monotonous life, and how is mood had been provoked by an epitome he had in his sleep about the worthlessness of life. Funny? Don't think so.

Worst part was... I couldn't keep my eyes open. Albeit, it wasn't a visually dynamic play, I still felt bad having to listen to 80% of it. I am so exhausted, even though I slept for so long. I know, when you over sleep you react like this... For some reason, even with something as natural as sleeping, I can't seem to find a balance.

After the play, we went for lunch. I have been skipping lunch for the past...3 weeks?... dreded the thought of being forced to sit down and eat, especially because my ever-perceptive English teacher was right there (she's always noticed when I'm at my lowest, even when my friends haven't the slightest clue). So, I made myself a lovely, 120cal spinach/carrot salad which I ate happily in the corner of A&W. Ok, so, that kind of makes up for the cookie and breakfast right? Wrong.

We spent the lunch talking first about symbolism, then about suicide, then about calories and fat and food! I swear, every girl in my class can eat however much god damn food she wants and never gain weight. Oh! I just HAVE to eat something every hour, or else I faint! Oh, snap! I just had a burger, but that poutine looks sooo good! I'm going to order one! HAHA wow, these fries are delicious. Anyone want some fudge? Fuck yooou. Im sorry, it's pure jealousy...

Anyways, for some reason, after that I got really upset. I have a meeting soon downtown anyways, so I was allowed to abandon the group and go to the library instead of backtracking. That is where I am writing this, it is also why I am going on so long, I apologize. I walked in to the library and BAM starbucks. It wasn't until I was up on the computer, brownie in hand and half eatten, that I even realised I really had it. Ugh, stupid stupid stupid. Good bye 140ilbs. I'm supposed to meet friends for a pre-meeting dinner too, then go home to actual dinner (which is where my mom is watching me like a freakin' hawk).

I found this book called "Suicide Notes" by Michael Thomas Ford in the YA section while I was waiting. The theme is pronounced today, isn't it? This passage is exactly how I am feeling: "...but my mind was racing racing racing. Only I wasn't thinking about anything in specific. It was just this stream of words and half thoughts, like there were a thousand different channels in my brain and someone was flicking through them all." Again, another grey area. I can't focus, I'm always tired, yet I'm constantly thinking and organizing and resting.

I was talking last night, as I said, with a friend who is going through a low-moment in his clinical depression. He was talking about how is weight and appereance had deprived him of many points of teenage-hood that made it worth the trouble. I didn't know what to say. "Oh, I totally know what you mean!" ? No. Of course not. That is where I draw a line. I guess it's why I have such an issue with my own "depression" or "eating disorder" or whatever you want to call it - my angst. I have no reason. He is diabetic and has major eczema scales all over. He isn't fat and flaking due to choice, it's his DNA. People can see that. People shy from that. I, however, have no such visible problem. I'm great at putting on the mask everyone wants to see. So, why have I never been kissed, or even hugged out of affection from a guy my age? Why have only women taken a liking to me? Why does everyone forget I am there? Why do people make excuses so they don't have to be around me?

Sorry for the rant - I have to go meet people for my... 4th meal of the day. Lovely. I'm so going to the gym tomorrow.