Monday, November 30, 2009


I'm going through another mood swing.

It's odd because, despite my constant hate, binging, comparing, stressing, craving and otherwise depressive behaviors, I feel lighter. I'm starting to feel better than OK. I'm starting to, at least today, focus. I spent 2hrs last night doing homework, organizing and planing for my week - more than I have done in the past month. For some reason, I still haven't been able to find motivation to control my eating - I think I've eatten a good 700cals already today and it's only 12:30. It's disgusting. But, I am more aware of it. I'm working towards a slow build.

I'm comforting myself with the thought that it is soon Christmas break and I will be able to spend time at the gym and actually control when I eat (verses I have to eat between 6:30-7:30am, between 11:40-12:00pm and 5-7pm). When I had the time to focus last year, in the December (Christmas break) to March area I lost weight and gained smiles.

I can feel my wall going up again against the baddies and the saddies. I can know that I don't love myself, that I'm not confident in myself, but I don't have to let every single thing I see, hear or do or don't impact my existance. For instance, yesterday 4 of my friends went facebook-official on relationships I didn't know about. Without knowing it, I 3rd wheeled every one of their dates. Once again, no one wants me (not that I blame them right now). Its tugging at my heart strings, but I refuse to let them snap.

This semester has been a gong show, but I actually have some optimism for the weeks to come. With any luck at all, this mood will stay. Something in me needs to click, and I feel gears shifting.

Where they will stop, no body knows.

Saturday, November 28, 2009


In grade 10 and 11, though especially 10, I was much more stable in my emotions. I still felt, let's say - because I quantify my own emotions now as the reflection of varying degrees of numbness. I was, because of my relative not-depressed-ness, a control freak. I was, though not clinically, rather Obsessive Compulsive about space, boxes, my appearance, my work, etc.

Among my friends, I earned the title "Robot". At first, I didn't really mind. I knew I was a little control-freak-ish, but I weakly resisted to the label. Mostly, I enjoyed the attentions and even played it up sometimes. Then, as I started to restrict and feel the onset of "teenage angst" (see later for details of this absolutely INFURIATING phrase), the title began to bother me. A lot. I already didn't feel worthy of humanity, I didn't feel like I was worth human contact or love, I didn't want to have to eat to power myself, and I wanted everything to be as perfect as my "programming" could make it. So, when you have a shitty day, and you have a mini-anxiety attack because your desk isn't lined up (it's the only thing you can focus on because your day has been so shitty), then your friends and teacher whisper - "Robot"... it's really, really not what you want to hear.

For a while, I went from weakly protesting, to getting pissed (made it worse because now it signaled my anger issues as well - I was malfunctioning see) at them, to ignoring it, until I finally sat down with the ring-leader and said: "I need this to stop. Now. Or, honestly, I can't be around you anymore." It's one of the few things I ever done to save my own sanity.

So, I wasn't the brunt anymore amongst that group of friends. Well, in that sense any ways. They're all elite gamers and, I, the drama kid, so we but heads a little. But, anyways, point is now I have a new title that I, for some reason, "feel" entirely different about.


How this happened was, long story short, I drunk-messaged them on Halloween. Whatever, right? Except for the fact that none of them ever drink. So, the flavor of the month is to constantly refer to me as an alcoholic. My teachers (two of them) have picked up on it and are doing it too. I'm starting to play along.

Why am I OK with this? Isn't it worse?

Well, no. If I'm an alcoholic, it means I'm a little-bit-more normal. It's terrible, but true. I party. I have those friends. I'm having those experiences. Plus, honestly, I want to get trashed. I crave it. It, somehow, makes the numbness go away. I sound, I think, I pretty much am I budding alcoholic - save for the fact that I don't drink often and even if I crave it I won't go out and get it.

Anways. My weight has gone down, despite the fact that I woke up this morning thinking I was fatter than ever. My mood has not changed, though I realized that I haven't cut (broken the skin) in almost 3weeks - despite wanting to intensely. I find myself resorting to a rubber band though...

I've also recently discovered that my mom, when she was my age, was probably an exercise bulimic. She was talking to me again about my "teenage angst" and how she remembers that when she was in high school she hated her body and her self and how she didn't weigh much and how she threw all her hate into sports and the gym (like I do with global issues/theatre). I'm thinking, hm, ok, isn't it proven that, to some extent, disordered mindsets at genetically linked? Either way, I'm not surprised, with all the shit she has going on now (anxiety, major depression).

Main difference between me and my mom, the main difference between our "teenage angst"? She was loved by everyone in the school, the star athlete. She went through guys faster than the loosest slut. She didn't have stellar grades, but she still went to university on basketball scholarship. And she was thin. She didn't cut. No one expected anything from her - other than to win games.

I'm not saying I have it harder. I'm saying I have it different. Guys are my friends or they hate me (I oh so love honesty box on facebook). No one knows ME at school. I have honors grades and may-or-may-not even get in to university. I'm not thin. Everyone expects everything from me.

I hate that she groups it together and diagnoses it as "teenage angst". But, I can't refute. It would give too much away.

Sorry for the ranting post. foriegnobject, Ana's girl + Lala, you guys rock my socks.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Gepetto is a douchebag

Ohright. I remember now. That is, I remember why I am rarely OK/happy. I binge when I feel OK. I binge when life seems optomistic. I'm a freaking masochist.This is how it goes:

"Oh, wait, no. You can't be happy becuase you're a messed, worthless piece of crap. Let me show you how I know that's true."

And, I mean, yes, the majority of the time, I feel that way. No matter how many times a day I comfort someone, or get congradulated or complimented, I can't help but internally scoff. Really? Really? You wouldn't say that if I wasn't a lying, deceitful douchebag.

When I'm not on here - writing these posts as I do - I feel like a puppet. "Today, I will feel like this, move your hand here...up to your mouth... now, feel bad! Ok, move to your class. Get up! Wake up! Ask a question! Good. Now, time to write. Get a pencil. Etc." Because, honestly, I don't want to do it. I mean, in saying that it implies I even sense or recognize the emotion of "desire" (which I don't), but I digress. I'd semi-"happily" lay in bed all day.

But, then, I start looking at my actions. Hindsight is 20/20, right? I am the puppet-master, yet, undeniably, I am also the puppet of my own idiotic mindset. I am not helping myself here. I'm not helping or impressing or doing this for anyone. ridiculously So why must I be so obsessed with... not even just myself, but my world.

Everyone's reasons for this... for having, at the very least, this form of unneeded distortion of our reflections are different. But... I truely, wholely, unequivocably believe that everyone is beautiful. Every. Single. Person. I believe I can be beautiful, but I know a secret about myself. I'm not beautiful on the inside, therefore I can not be apart of this idealized beautiful humanity.

But, even that doesn't make any logical sense. Q.E.D.

So, when I sit and I eat 4 pieces of pizza, candy, soup, bread... and I'm thinking, Jesus lord I'm fat... at a volunteer session to share my passion for global humanitarian work with Jr. High students... and I spend my night talking to concerned parents, pushing my concerns for my body and for my own worth out of my head... I become someone else. It's not me.

Because... at this point... I don't know how to exist without having these hateful thoughts. I honestly, honestly believe it now. It's like how you hate your job, but you know you aren't going to quit because, lets face it, why bother? It's not like you have anywhere else to go. So, you go to work knowing that the face your boss sees, the face your coworkers see, is a facade; this mask attachs to your core, your very being and becomes a part of your costume. A costume that your puppet-master deems correct, the one He deems suitable.

But, you're your own puppet-master.

So, where the fuck does that leave you?

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Content = happy?

You know those days when you just wake up... and you say to yourself: It's going to be OK.

That was me today. Yesterday was bad. I cried myself to sleep - literally. It seems to be that I need that literal emotional release, whether it be crying, cutting or starving, in order to wake up OK. I find it mildly sad (and interesting) that my waking up OK, my being OK, my looking forward to the day was defined in my own mind as happiness. Oh, wow, today I'm not depressed. I must be happy!

Why can't I live in the grey with this? I swear, this depressed vs angry vs OK/happy spectrum is not a spectrum at all! It's either or... or a combination of the first two. Every other aspect of my emotion, my expression, my issues and my philosophy is based on compromise and grey. Why can't I have a difference between OK and Content and Happy and Joyous and Ecstatic?

I have little to say on this blog tonight. My weight feels like it's going down, but it's not... probably an effect of my mood swing. I have a rant going for tomorrow, so stay tuned... yeah. I've had this playing on repeat all day. It must be noted, I listen to the Glee version. It's the best :) It summarizes my mood today.

Sometimes in our lives we all have pain
We all have sorrow
But if we are wise
We know that there's always

Sunday, November 22, 2009


We live in a world of contradictions.

I live/die in a world/hell of contradictions/ realities.

I'm reading Wasted right now -slowly, but surely - and it's really scary. I'm not in anyway, shape, or form like Marya H. in the sense of motivation or severity or ENDOS diagnosis.

Yet, I read her bio. I read her descriptions and her eloquent musings, and I experience deja vu so often it gives me whiplash.

I watched a documentary about teenage girls and eating disorders, sexuality and cutting. These girls speak so honestly about their needs on all these levels and how they've all experienced it. How much it hurts and how much they want it to hurt. I see myself in them; they voice sentences I have only dared to think.

I talk with a graduate about suicide (not related to me at all) and he just sighs and tells me it's harder to talk to someone than to do it. That is how shoving pills down your throat, or starving yourself, or dangling from a rope is the easy way out. I ask what depression is, then? He says it's limbo, indecision, and it's weakness too. I (dis)agreed.

So, what does that make me? Normal? Mild? Not depressed enough. A cut not deep enough. A girl not thin enough. Not angry enough. Is that it?

Sleep is my only escape... my only true relief from the alternating numbness and pain and guilt and anger. But even that is tainted somehow, yet only enough to bother me, not enough to worry about. I wake up exhausted - knowing that I hardly slept through the night as I tossed and turned, surrounded by semi-conscious fears and hate.

I almost collapsed at work because I hadn't eaten in a few hours.
I used to go 4 days without even liquid food.

What does that make me?

Saturday, November 21, 2009


Currently addicted to this song: Anxiety - Black Eyed Peas. It's so perfect.

Anyways, I have little to say. I've been doing well on the eating front - I went to a little hang-out-and-chat party with some people on Friday night. There was a MASSIVE garbage bag full of halloween candy on the table and Coke and cookies. I had a Coke Zero and a tootsie roll lolli, which - considering the temptation - I was rather proud of.

Didn't do si wonderfully today - there were some cookies, chips and pop at the volunteer meeting. I had a cookie and some chips, no pop though. I did, however, walk home from the train station, which isn't even 100cals but w/e it's something.

I was way out of it all day today. Did nothing. Stared at the computer and TV screen hoping breathing burnt calories... I realised I've had about 24hrs of sleep since last Sunday. Oops. Anyways, on that note, I'm off.

More tomorrow. :)

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Guiding Star

Yesterday, I won a city-wide peace medal. I didn't feel anything. I actually didn't. Besides nerves, I wasn't excited, or happy, or interested, or inspired, or even hateful. Just nothing. Numb. The greatest honour I've ever received and all I could think was NOTHING. ..

I was, perhaps, confused. I don't think of myself as being anything worth honouring. So, why should I get this? How can a committee of people who've never met me decide I deserve such an award?

I did this activity called "My Guiding Star". For each of these points, I picked up a "value" to fill in. It's not mean to be tarot-card-esque or a prediction tool, it's meant to be suggestions on what to focus on. It is made relevant, I know that, it's not fate that picked the most amazingly relevant values to me... but the ones I got were insanely brilliant.

For my family: Strength
I need to have the strength to realise my family does not define me. My issues with my father - especially representative in a fight tonight - are not the most important. I have to have the strength to not let it be the be-all and end-all of my day and of my feeling.

For my work: Creativity

For my relationship: Healing
I especially love this one. At first, I got scared. What relationship? I have none... rant rant rant. Oh! I need to heal myself and let myself open up to the possibility, the commitment of having better relationships and possibly a romantic one. I am so hurt and so torn from every boy who has ever rejected me or has used me. Despite my own fundamental desire/need for someone to love me, I am cynical about it. I need to heal myself before anything can happen.

For my social life: Forgiveness

For my self development: Easiness
Take a breath, take a step back, laze, ponder, be easy with yourself. I have to learn to be less self-hating. To ease up on myself. Or else... I honestly don't know if I can make it through the year.

My foundation: Insight
I analyze everything. This blog shows that. This post shows that. I am insight. It's... perfect.

Anyways. My days have been full and busy and feigned. I'm trying to apply these values.

I am down to 141ilbs. It's more motivation. I've been 145 and felt SKINNY because I was FIT. Now, I'm nearly 140 and feel fat because I am.

Night <3

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Things I'll Never Say

I wonder if I'm borderline bi-polar.

No, honestly. Yesterday, I was so... content. Optimistic. Life sucked, but it was OK because you just had to push through. Smile more, and the world will smile with you.

On Friday, I was having some form of panic attack. Cleaning, rearranging, homeworking for hours and hours at a time is not, by any means, normal. I was freaked. Scared. Don' t know why or what triggered it. It was a nice manic episode.

Today, I've been making cutting motions on my wrist with a pencil constantly. I'm mad. It's the kind of mad that causes a tight chest and a hateful spin on every word, the kind that makes you paranoid and spiteful and pessimistic and too-honest. Honestly.

I weighed 5ilbs less today and I did yesterday. No idea why. I binged last night.

In Bio, I day dreamed about getting hit by a van.

In Social, I wondered what it would be like to live in the Matrix (we were talking about Neo-Conservatism, and I got thinking about Neo, then the Matrix... it's related I swear) and be used for a battery until sucked dry and composted.

Something is very, very wrong with me.

{edit: Border-line bi-polar. Ha! What a silly thing to say. I was really angry all day - and I still am. No idea why. I'm a little crazy right now though. I just re-read this and started laughing at my own melodramatic (albeit truthful) account of my day.

Feelin' a little pathetic fallacy goin' on right now. For those of you who aren't english nerds, that means the personification of weather to reflect mood. There is a violent, 60km/hr wind outside right now. I walked home in it. It whipped my hair around, pushed me sideways. It felt just as angry as I was.

Yippee. Also, updated photo of moi. No, you get no body shots - I wouldn't want to cause nightmares.}

Monday, November 16, 2009

Hey, sorry for the absence.

A few things happened on Friday that led to my not-posting over the weekend. Firstly, rehearsal was a gong show - there is so much drama and hate and anger floating around. Couples breaking up, couples cheating, bitch fights, rumours, director-hate, lack of optimisim and general anger with everyone else. Of course, this is what I love about drama - I don't have TIME or ENERGY to sulk about my own issues! I have to stop bitch one from killing bitch two when they're supposed to be on stage! :)

Anyways, post rehearsal I walked to work with C. who was obviously a little sad but he didn't want to talk about it so we just chatted about random things. I love spending time and reminiscing with him (and no, I do not have a thing for him. We're just bffs... and he's gay). So, 4hrs of work was actually really nice. Not because it wasn't busy (it was) or because I was too busy (I was) or because managers weren't on a hissy fit (they were), but because I felt like I finally fit in with the other employees.

We were chatting and making hangout, talking about random things, making jokes, finding stickers... all while being productive. I have pretty much felt like an outsider until now. Don't know why exactly... I mesh better with older people usually. But, finally, I felt like I could mesh with my peers. It was nice.

Then, during clean up, I was talking to the guy who's been consta-flirting with me at work but hasn't acted on it and I asked him how it was goin'. Instead of being negative or whining (like me) he just said, "I'm trying to smile more." Awww.

He got me thinking about just TRYING to be happy instead of waiting for a reason to be happy to come along. In that chipper mood, I got home, carpet was done and nice, I rearanged my room, burnt some insense and worked. I worked on homework for 6hrs. Happily. Willingly. It was SO weird.

Saturday was much the same at work and home.

Sunday was my rest/ be a little productive day.

Now, it's OK. It's going OK, rather. I still don't have a reason to be genuinely smiling or not stressed or not freaking out about my weight (holy mother of god, I'm still holding 145 even though I've been eatting like a pig. Granted, its all blubbah - my legs are freakin' MASSIVE). But, for some reason, I'm not.

"Just trying to smile more." Damn him. He has no idea.

Hope all is well. Sorry for lack of pictures. D=

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Has a heart; a heart that hurts

My chest is so tight right now; today was a decently OK day, until home. In fact, the home-life has been so maddening and scary over the last few days.

We're getting carpet tomorrow. I found out Monday - only a WEE bit late to rearrange my schedule of 2meetings on Monday, 2 meetings on Tuesday, a full day of a birthday party and a volunteer activity Wednesday, work tonight for 6hrs after 8hrs of school, work tomorrow and Saturday.

So, OBVIOUSLY, it's my fault that I haven't been home to move things out of the basement. OBVIOUSLY, due to that fact, I am an extreme disappointment to my family. OBVIOUSLY, this lack of initiative to entirely spend 12hrs emptying out my room on short notice demonstrates my disrespect for my parents (admittedly only my father) and my screwed up priorities.

When you spend all day thinking about a friend who's losing their mom, about how this is going to be your last Christmas at home, about how you have to lie to your teachers in order to get extensions on assignments because, when you do have time to stop and do homework, all you want to do is eat junk food or die... the best way to be greeted is: "I'm disappointed in you - I had to work all day then come home and empty your room. And then I work tomorrow for 8hrs an have to come home to handle the carpet. Why can't you help more. I can't believe you've been so inconsiderate."

Know what? I'm disappointed in myself, my priorities are screwed. My only comfort is being so busy I don't have time to think or feel. But... I'm not busy with things like school work, because it reminds me of how close I am to leaving. It's like admitting time is passing - or something. So... when I boil it down to having homework time, I just cry. And cry. And go online. And read. And cry. And post. And cry.

I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me.

I just wish it didn't hurt everyone so much. I wish I could be repairing my relationships with people - not watching and helping them disintegrate.

Another friend just had a fight with her mom... and is drowning her problems with rum. I wish I could be like her. To control the numb with alcohol - like I've done so many time.

One problem: too many calories in alcohol.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

I don't even know where to start with the last 24hrs - it has been so up and down.

In hindsight, it was a good day. Going through it... that is not what it felt like. I was so worried about C. and I was fighting with my parents (apparently me having meetings and working is now an issue because they "miss me". I call bullshit, they need me to help finish the basement and I'm the only damn person in the house they can trust to do it when they aren't home. Guess what? I'M BUSY and you can't rely on me for every god damned thing. No, you know what? I don't want to hug you. I'm mad at you, I don't consider you my father, I don't respect you, I'm not comfortable with hugging you and, hey, you comment on my size every time you do hug me. So, obviously I don't have any reason why I DON'T WANT YOU TO HUG ME. And, you know, I would LOVE to come to the memorial with you tomorrow, but I have 2 essays, a project, a birthday party and a meeting tomorrow. Sorry I have a life, grades to maintain and friends. FUCK. /rant.)

The Remembrance Day assembly appeared to go swimmingly, but I made several rather large mistakes such as skipping over a performance, pronouncing "Reveille" as "reptile" (apparently) and saying "amphibian" instead of "amphibious" vehicles. I know no one noticed, but my heart was racing all day from the embarrassment and the anxiety that someone else DID notice. At least, unlike previous years, I felt decently OK in my outfit and remembered to not wear high heels as that is ALL you can hear in the echoy gym.

Meetings and the rest of the school day went fine. I was exhausted as I waited for a few friends to go to yet another meeting after school downtown. I don't know if I blogged this, but last Sunday I went out to dinner with some old hommies. J, one of my buds from Gr. 6 (yeah, we're cool), was making fun of my "drinking problems". No one else in the group drinks at all - and I don't either really, they were referring to a rather hilarious facebook message with far, far too many text slurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrs.) He then proceeded to ask if I drank beer. I don't. He laughed and said, "Oh! that's good - cause you gotta watch your figure you know."

On one hand, I know he's kidding. He also was under the impression I was planning to do more modelling and he's someone who would apply that knowledge in conversation. So, I get that.

I blew it off, but secretely mulled over it for hours that night - did he really mean it? Is it that obvious? Blah, blah. ANYWAYS, he made the comment again when I refused CurlyFries post-meeting. I was tired, pissed, worried and anxious from the meeting and the idea of going home to mad parents so I kind of blew up at him. By "blew up" I mean telling him to stop or I would kick him in the shins, refusing to talk to him on the way home and ignoring his "Lol, did I make you mad?" texts. Super mature, I know.

Whatever. I'm not actually mad at him. It just brings back this whole thing... I forget about it when I'm around that group because they've known me for so long.

Anyways - as suspected - angry faces awaited me when I got home. Disappointed tones, guilt-tripping compliments and the dreaded "Don't you love _____(your father/me/your family)?" question. It was wonderful.

I escaped to my room with every intention to at least do homework or clean. I didn't. Imagine that.

Wow. And here I thought I had nothing to say about today. Intake approx: 1800 prob. So, not great at all. Kind of avoided conversation by eating at dinner - always having a full mouth... I know I'm being immature about everything right now. It just seems that everything is happening at once... I can't slow down and process it. Everything seems to be working against me and what I need to happen in my life.

I've had about 6hrs of sleep over the last 3-ish days. Hopefully, I can sleep a little longer tonight. It's probably part of my problem.

Much loves <3

Monday, November 9, 2009

Terminal Cancer

First of all, foriegnobject you are amazing. I smile everytime I see that you've commented, and you're right - high school boys suck haha.

Today was, overall, not very good. I woke up extremely depressed from last night. Same old, same old. Then, somehow, I spread out a blanket and did a few measly sit ups - but more than I have done in a very long time. I still felt big and jiggly, but stronger. I ate pretty decently today compared to the last few days of binging on anything and everything. No, scratch that. I ate really well - probably about 1300-1400. So, normal.

Goods otherwise: I'm at a 91% in Bio - thank jesus. 90s are so comforting (Then again, I have a quiz tomorrow that I couldn't bring myself to study for [see bads].) I went to the gym and actually ran my first mile!!! Did some other cardio and stretched. Did most of my homework and got ready for tomorrow - I am MCing my school's Remembrance Day Assembly. I really don't mind public speaking, especially MCing. None cares about you, right?

Bads: Felt self-concious, guilty, hateful and ugly all day. Its rare for me to walk around looking at people's feet... I saw some nice shoes today. Then, at lunch, the bombshell hit. One of my good friends, someone who I feel I'm getting closer and closer to, someone I've been through a lot with told me his mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

He's taking it pretty lightly right now - buying her a card and chocolate, even though the chemo is making her too sick to drink water. But... when he told me, I know my face and eyes just crumbled and I looked so pathetic- every memory of my grandfather whom I lost 2 years ago to cancer came rushing back - and I caught the eye of another actor who just gave me the biggest hug. Why!? C. is the one who's mom is dying!

I know he's not ok with it, rather, that he's not dealing with it because he didn't tell me right away. Nor did he tell me what kind of cancer or how long she has. He's had drug problems before, and I just want to make sure he's ok... but wow. My heart was tight all day. When I was running, all I was thinking was - He doesn't deserve this... this is going to kill him... this is his gr. 12 year! Oh my god. Oh my god. I'm so stupid - how can I be unhappy and depressed when shit like this is going down?! He doesn't deserve this...

It's true, my own depression is unneeded.

Anyways, writing that got me really sad. I have to stop and breathe. Meditate a while. Study. Sleep.


Sunday, November 8, 2009

I just spent about 2hrs going through almost every possible outfit for tomorrow... there isn't even anything special going on. I just had SUCH a good weekend, I want to go back and look... refreshed and rejuvenated and ready.

Nothing fits right anymore. It doesn't look right. I meant to come on and talk about my inspiring weekend, how I think I now have a career path and a new direction for this week, this month, this year.

Instead, I came home and the inspired activity died... died... died.

I look pregnant.

It's not even ED. My own mother commented on my appearance. My weight is ok - 143. Pretty low on my 140-150 scale. Except where I used to be muscular, I'm fat. I haven't had a stomach for years. It brings back so many painful memories.

I'm now up 3 hrs past my bed time. My room is trashed. I've lost motivation. And I want nothing else than to either dive into chocolate, food and greasy carbs or to fast for weeks upon weeks. I could fast tomorrow. I want to. But that's no good anymore.

Hopefully, I'll have the strength to actually talk about life not my own stupidity - I allowed this to happen. I need to change everything. I just don't know if I can.

Know what I need? A relationship. Something to constantly motivate me to look good, care about others instead of focusing constantly on myself... someone to reassure me when all I can think is - " Wow, I can't believe I ever thought I could succeed. I'm so delusional. " Someone to hug me out of support, not pity or sympathy or moral pressure or a joke. Someone I look forward to seeing, who I can smile for. That's all I want. Support that comes from affection and attraction and genuine concern, not just blind friendships or obligated bloodlines.

But no one would do that. No one will be that. No one ever will. No one ever has.

Is it too much to ask?

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Heaven help me for the way I am

I'm the worst blogger on earth... haha. Ana's Girl, I hope you know how much your comments mean to me - even if I never actually follow your wonderful advice.

I was intent on fasting today. Got about half way through, and wasn't even hungry, just anxious and tired and careless. It started out ok - a Luna bar w/ water. Then, I had soup. And pears, later. And then chocolate. Yes, that's right. Halloween is the bane of my existance.

That's such a lie.

I feel bad writing here because I feel myself drawing out of the ED world and fantasising. Maybe it's because I've gained so much and I am moving from the rawr-rawr-I-hate-life stage of depression to the fuck-this-nothing-matters stage. I don't know. I'm on a rush from productivity right now.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better, but it probably won't considering the day starts off with a panic-attack waiting to happen. I can't focus in school anymore - let alone stay awake. I know it's because I'm not exercising anymore. I just don't care, nor do I see the point.

What a vicious, stupid cycle.

I can look back and say that. But, when the moment of decision between getting off two stops early or doing situps while watching Tv... I just say no.

Anyways. You won't hear from me until Sunday as I am going to a Youth Retreat through World Vision. Kind of seriously stoked. Half for the fact that i'm going, the people and the theme (Africa!). The other half is, admittedly, the fact that it's regulated food intake and we're hiking and doing outdoor activities.

Maybe ED isn't gone out my system entirely yet.

Loves <3

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Same old, same old.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Apple and Orange

I've been listening to Fionna Apple constantly. Her videos are so triggering to me for some reason, yet her lyrics are comforting.

I'm exhausted from school and work and drama and douchebags. One of my friends brothers nearly beat her to unconciousness last night. So, now, I'm scared for her and for two of my guy friends who are protecting her. Two other friends are going at it for who knows whatever reasons.

Weight is still too high, I feel even worse because of mother nature's monthly "LOL".

I shit you not, people hate me now. I don't know why. I get looks, snide comments. It's pissing me off. I have to stop turning to the razor. Maybe it's time to turn to something else.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Beaten with Bitter Lies

So, it's a week later.

What happened, eh?

Well, long story short: I got worse. Binge/starving cycle continue, I got even more depressed, I cut a few more times (even though I knew it no longer helped), I really started hating myself. I, essentially, got really low... lower than I have been in a very, very, very long time. Thursday night... well, really all Thursday... I was about to burst. I swung from anger to being on the verge of tears to actually calling a helpline ( I hung up though) to seriously considering a pile of Advil.

Thankfully (I guess?) my mom, who I hadn't seen or talked to really in the last week because she'd been working crazy hours, came downstairs and had a chat with me. She'd been having the whole mothers-connection-pain from me. She caught me crying. It was really really hard to not yell and scream and tell her about this blog and everything I've said on here or about cutting or my suicidal thoughts.

I did tell her things though. How I didn't care anymore, how I felt fat (she knew I have been popping pills for a while, and that the 40ilb weight loss last year wasn't a phase), how lonely I was. She concluded: I was depressed. Hurrah. Quote, un quote: Not enough to be clinical, mind you, but between hormones and stress... you're depressed.

If only she knew the true story. Ugh. It makes me feel even more guilty that she thinks she knows it all and she's saddened by only that. Then again, now I feel like maybe I'm not depressed. Maybe I'm over reacting and being a baby. Maybe it's a subconscious attention grab.

Anyways. I felt great on Friday after crying it out. And partying sans alcohol. And eating without guilt.

Saturday I worked for 9hrs, then I went partying avec alcohol, strobe lights and weed. I didn't smoke, but there was certainly enough in the air. Strobe light didn't help. I danced and ate and drank withoutguilt, without inhibition. I laughed and joked and flirted and grinded like a normal, hot teenager in a semi-skanky costume on Halloween.

This is what I want for all my Gr.12 events. I want something to remember.

Anyways, off topic. I had a good weekend.

Until Sunday. LONGER story short - friends suck. Especially immature girls. Boys who are friends rule. I love being the "normal teenager" in my closest group.

Now, I'm back to where I was. Semi-depressed, unmotivated, tired, hating. Got a 91% on my latest quiz in Social. Doesn't matter anymore.

I've also gained.

Surprise sur-fucking-prise.
Header Image by Colorpiano Illustration