Telling

First of all - Dot thanks for your comment :) Really, I've been missing getting responses from you guys; I know everyone is busy because of Christmas so whatever!

Today was an awful day for eating. I got up and just binged and binged. I now realize why these past few days have been so intense - it's that time of the month. I'm also using that excuse to justify my recent 2ilb weight gain (even though it's really from the holiday binging). So, yeah. I dug a little hovel on the couch, then in my bed, and watched wasted time on YouTube and Facebook.

Then, I got a text from a friend, Katty. She is dating one of my old friends, so through drama and general similarities of personality (on a deeper level than academics and interpersonal) we've grown close. She's the first person I've ever truly explained my family situation to. She's really the only person who knows how much pain people in Elementary and Jr. High school caused me and how it effects me still. She calls me if her mothers is being abusive; both of us have issues with religion.

ANYWAYS, long story short, I basically hinted that I was going crazy and we went out for dinner and dessert (which was the cherry on top of a binge day - ugh). We chatted about nothing, went to her house and chatted more about deepish stuff then we she drove me home I'm pretty sure I told her I went through a border-line eating disorder and that I am struggling with it still, along with depression. We also talked about suicide.

So.

Now, I feel much lighter. Imagine that. I'm kind of worried, but also not. I trust her - she's not going to tell anyone and I know that. But she's also someone I see every day... multiple times a day. She will be someone who will ask if I'm eating and she will now be looking for signs of shit going down. And that's slightly... I don't know what I think yet. It's either a relief or a fear-inducing recipe for disaster.

I'm sure it will turn out to be both.

Inside my head

I have numbed myself out.

That night after last post... I tried to sleep for a few hours, but something was nawing at me. I knew what it was, but I resisted it. No, I couldn't cut again. I had done so well. There was hate, sure. Pain of lonliness should be enough, shouldn't it? Why did I have to hurt more? I had already burned myself (accidentally, though I kept it a secret and it hasn't been treated), why did I need the blade.

As soon as five neat, red threads were carved on my arm, I finally slept. It was a relief - and I welcomed it.

Today, I binged then went out and ate stomach-fulls of junk. I spent time smiling with friends, putting on my pristine mask of painlessness and carelessness and perfection and success and happiness. I was "real" with them. I left a little trail that, by the end of the night, warned them that I couldn't take the fat jokes or the jesting about my lack of intelligence.

I came home to drunken parents talking about religion and, essentially, how I am going through a "phase". They want me to be something I am not. My mom wouldn't let me go on a diet with her post-Holidays, but now that I look like I've gained 50ilbs (even though I haven't gained anything on the scale) she is all for it.

I want to stop caring. That's what I did last year, I think. I just stopped caring about the risks, about what other people would think, about how difficult it would be, about how stupid and selfish it would be - I just did it. I stopped everything. I stopped caring and I got happy and I got thin.

I wish I could come here and tell you all that my day was generally good and that I did indeed have a really amazing time with my friends at the lights show tonight. But this is the only place in the whole world where I can tell myself - yes, you had fun. Lying.

It is the only place I can take off the mask.

To my new readers, welcome. Sorry I don't write anything interesting.

Tracks end here

I can't even start this post right now. I feel totally, utterly, completely... worthless? That's what it is, I guess. It's the first word that came up. I actually don't know what I am feeling - besides tightness in my chest. And I don't know why it's making me cry.

Why should I expect anything different? My oldest friends, my friends who I can always count on for... god, I am lying to myself. They've all been asses to me at one point or another. They've ruined relationships. They've made me starve, they've made me cut, and they've made me hate. So why do I still cry over them? Why does it hurt so much when they abandon me?

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know you wanted to come to his birthday party."
Right, because I wouldn't want to come to the last birthday party I'd ever be around for.

"Oh, sorry. You were working. We didn't think you'd want to come exchange Christmas gifts."
Right, because after 7 years, I wouldn't want to give you all the final gifts before university.

"Oh, sorry. Next time, I'll respond."
Right, because when I send you a text saying "I need someone to talk to... please." you shouldn't assume I am having an anxiety attack while walking home alone.

Why does it hurt so much to know that your parents take you for granted?

Why does it matter that people can laugh and joke about forgetting about you?

Why does it matter if someone doesn't ask where your scars are from, especially when they too cut?

Why does it hurt more when you eat like a fucking pig....

When you gain weight...

When you realize that, above anything else, all you want is to be wanted by someone...

And that it will never happen because you're not worth a fucking cent.

Really, what would change if I wasn't here? I am so done. So done with everything and everyone. Especially myself. Mostly myself. Why can't I be HAPPY. Why can't I be NORMAL. Why can't I be anyone else.

Everything comes back to my body, my stomach, my scars. All of it would be ok if I wasn't fat. If I wasn't so stupid. If I wasn't me.

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Christmas: Dancing Guilt

1) Merry Christmas everyone! Hope everyone is enjoying what they can of the season, of the spirit and, if nothing else, of the presents ;P

Last night I went to a cocktail/dance party. I wore a retro black-and-white polka dotted dress. This dress floats wonderfully and I felt... pretty. Again, early on in the evening, I was abandoned by my "friends" from the theatre. I didn't care though, rather, I pushed it out of my mind. I knew other people there and, dare I say, I was getting attention from some of the boys.

There was alcohol, but it was tightly controlled and I don't have a fake. Instead... I gave up. I literally stood aside and told myself, "Screw it. Just screw it." I danced for 3 hours. I dipped and twirled and shook my thang. It was wonderful. I ate too much, I felt fat and disgusting. So - god - why should I care? No one would want me anyways.

So, it was a good night again.

Now, on to Christmas Eve. Today is a really hard day for many, myself included. My biggest issue is that this is the day, once a year, that my parents drag us to a church service. I will try not to go too far in to this, but this year it was really hitting home. It was my first christmas with scars, my first christmas full of hate just beneath the surface.

I am not religious. I am not even particularly faithful. I do not believe in God, or Jesus. I do not believe that there is some force out there that can heal me if I "open my heart" to it. I do not believe that Christmas is Jesus' birthday.

On the other hand, especially with Christmas, the spirit the season invokes is something I can not disagree with. The pastor was talking about the Christmas Spirit tonight, and he was going on about the value of Christmas spirit and of giving presents and of taking pride in humanity. I was thinking : "Wow, he is right. This really is what it's about..." then he said, "and that only way we can achieve peace is if we let Jesus into our hearts".

This is wear religion loses me. No, it isn't up to "God". ANYWAYS. Sorry. I write about this because these services make me feel extremely guilty. I feel that by being there, by standing during songs, by closing my eyes (respectfully) while people pray... I feel as though I am lying.

All that is going through my mind is: Liar, liar, liar. How can you disrespect these people? Worthless fatty. Liar... etc.

Somehow, i'll get through Christmas. The holidaze.

Holding 140.

Does anyone read this anymore?

Relief

I have been avoiding this blog (it doesn't seem like it, but I have) because I've been a very, very naughty girl. If I get away from the kitchen, or from the stores or coffee shops, for a few hours - it is a god send.

I'm pretty ashamed, and I can't even imagine what it is going to be like once christmas shit actually starts rolling around. I feel myself slipping back into the darkness of constant, hypocritical, unproductive perfectionism. At work today it was all I could do to not stare at customers' skinny legs or flat stomachs or tiny waists - so I went to Burger King. It's stupid, stupid, stupid. I'm having a half-fast, uber controlled day tomorrow. It's planned out to the 15minute mark. Parents are not home, so nothing can screw me up.

And -if something does - I have a plan B, C, and D.

On another note, I got my acceptance letter to my back-up university. I got is a few days ago, and I didn't tell anyone. I don't know why, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to bring it up. Am I scared of how close it is? Am I worried about the commitment I need to make? Do I refuse to recognize it because I don't want to?

I don't know.

But, for some reason, I came home from work today and brought it up to my parents - acting like I just got it today. And... it was a weight off my shoulders. I AM going to university. I AM. I don't have to worry about not getting in or not having the grades or the money - I am going.

So, why did I hide it for 5 days?

Happy Christmas everyone, enjoy what you can. :)

P.S Holding at 140. As per usual.

Disordered

Was sick yesterday, my stomach was in knots. I ate very little. Slept a lot.
Got up, and:
Binge.
binge.
BINGE.
BINGE.
BINGE.

Fuck up.
Shopping again.

Well, That was Interesting...

This is going to be short because I feel like passing out, but I need to record this random day.

I woke up and felt wonderful. Then, I binged on sugar-cookies - not so wonderful. I got really depressed and started watching Pro-Ana videos and Intervention episodes - crying all the way through. Then, I showered, cried more, and went at my arm with a pin.

Then I got a call to go hang with Z and the gang. We were going to go up to a lights show but it got super, crazy foggy, so we pulled in at a mall. It was just me and Jess (Z's cousin) so we went grad dress shopping.

I fit a size 2 perfectly.

It made everything a little better. Then, we went hottubbing and played Truth or truth for 2hrs. Another good night :)

Best night ever (kind of)

Wow. Ok. So, I went to the party tonight expecting there to be: a) no booze, b) tons of shit food and c) no Z. Well, I was wrong on ALL accounts.

Part A being untrue was amazing. Honestly, like I ranted about earlier, I needed to get drunk so bad. I didn't get trashed, just mildly...well, rather, tipsy. I downed like 2 or 3 jello shots on an empty stomach, then had rum. God. I can't even imagine the calories and fat... but I have resolved to either fast or do soup all day and go to the gym to work off at least 1000 (really only about 2hrs).

Part B was partially true; there wasn't any pizza or anything like that. Just baked goods - btw, I found this amazing fudgy-cake-cookie recipe that costs like 30-40cals a pop. It's a lot less than your average cookie! I ate way to much in that sense, but at least it was only 30-60cal finger foods, not handfuls of chips and pieces of 300cal pizza... maybe.

So, I am drunk. We got to the hot tub. Hell, I don't care if my stomach, scarred and full, is hanging out, I slap on my bathing suit and out I go. How embarrassing. Anyways, we played Five Fingers ("never have I ever" for some). When you get out, you have to kiss someone. For someone who has only ever kissed people during games like this (and it was only two people), this kind of scared me.

But I didn't care. I think I ended up kissing 4 or 5 girls... and PART C. That's right. I kissed (a harmless, innocent peck on the lips just like the girls) Z. I felt a weight come off my chest. This didn't mean anything and it should and it doesn't. I can kiss him and not worry about it. Whatever!

Such a good night.

There was also a secret santa thing going on, 0$. So, I made the girl I was Santa-ing for a CD and a necklace. She's very country-hippie-hipster. It was made of hemp, long, half-hitched stitched. The pendant was a simple, carved, wooden heart. There were two blue beads on each strand and then a tiny dragonfly attached to the pendant heart.

I love making jewelry.

Anyways, she loved it. I mean, she loved loved it. Drunk and sober she loved it - wore it all night and showed everyone. I don't care if she was trying to be nice, it made me feel really good. I'm an attention whore - especially under the influence.

What makes it even better? She is Z's cousin.

God, a great end to a great flipping day. Lots of work tomorrow though! Gotta pay for the indulgences tonight ;P

P.S Was at 139 this morning, sure that'll go up tomorrow.

excuses

Good god.

Advert your eyes... these are some recent-ish photos. No semi-nudes until I hit the gym a few more times. The sweater dress and cardigan needed my mother's approval, so that is why I took the pictures haha

Today has been a roller coaster of insanity... I was doing so well. I woke up and was 138 - with clothes on. I was so motivated. hell yes, I was going to go to the gym. I was going to go without lunch all the way until after read through.

But then I wrote my Bio final... then my Social final... I haven't let myself feel anything about them outwardly, but I'm pretty sure I fucked up bad. I guess a lot. A lot.

Last night I spent 3hrs casting the musical, so I took the brunt of the drama and had to do a lot of damage control. People needed me, I was happy. It's pathetic, blah blah blah, we know. So, then, I went and got lunch...400cals worth of lunch.

No worries! I told myself, that and breakfast will be all I eat today! And I made it almost all night.

But then I went to Staples to pick up some prints for a project. The girl was bitch and made me pay 3$ extra to have them done tonight instead of at 7am tomorrow - and I had to wait an hour. Then, for some reason - maybe I'm so tired I can't think or maybe I am bottling my emotions so completely that I didn't realize I was angry - I walked over to a coffee shop to buy my favorite indulgence: a London Fog.

Before I knew it, I had my London Fog and massive slice of carrot cake. I ate it, I read the paper, I read the edits on my latest essay (an A!!), I picked up my prints, I went home and then I realized what happened. Fuck. Fuck. fuck. FUCK. (sorry)

I am going to a party tomorrow. There is going to be a hot tub and there is going to be alcohol. I wanted more than anything to be able to at least wear a tank top instead of a tshirt over my bathing suit... Hell, at this point, I don't even know if I will venture there.

UGH.

Keeping On

I didn't cut that night - or binge even. I went into my room and stared at facebook profiles and pictures of those who are hurting me. I found my dayplanner and went into another OCD manic episode, cleaning and organizing. Then, I cried myself into a restless sleep.

It's a pretty solid win for me, I think.

I feel myself easing back into this lifestyle - whatever this is. I go to bed promising myself I am going to fast, I wake up realising I have to eat something, but it is less than even what I was eating last week. I am hoping to go to the gym tonight and start whipping this lazy, fat ass into shape. I'll probably go even if I don't have the time to - I need the endorphins if nothing else.

Yesterday was awful. I was a zombie. An obsessed, sad, angry, hungry zombie without enough energy to even pretend to smile.

I was exhausted from 2 sleepless nights, so last night I just said to myself : "OK. Time for bed. If you aren't going to study or excersize, go to bed.... once you check facebook ONCE more." I ended up getting into a conversation about music and I realised how stale my music library was.

I ended up downloading/finding/ranting about new music until 1am. Ooops.

The new tunes have revitalized me though. I feel much, much better about things and I feel lighter. I'm no less convinced of my own failure as a person, but at least the world is a bit better, right? Anyways. I'll be posting pictures tomorrow, I think. I need to start being more accountable... to whatever magic people who actually read this.

Together, we are three

I am you, and you are me and, together, we are three.
You, pain and me.
-Peer Gynt, Ibsen

School boards are the epitome of stupid. Ok, I understand blocking facebook, I do. Even I am guilty of abusing the WorldWideWeb while supposedly doing research on the FLQ Crisis... But, really? Hotmail, blogs, AND Bing? I'm sitting here on my spare, freaking out and about to explode from how stupid I am, and I discover this - my social connection (facebook) is gone, my organizational tool for life (email) is inaccessible, my only outlet for emotion (this blog) is blocked AND to top it freaking off - I can't even search thinspo in a nice, continuous format.

I actually started having a minor anxiety attack (which is so incredibly dumb). Thankfully, I hacked the system because I really, really need to just rant about how, once again, I have deluded myself and placed a large amount of trust in a fantasy (see last post). Sorry for all the ()s.

I lied. Z. and his girlfriend are tight and they are undoubtedly in teenage-puppy-love. He hugs everyone like that. He didn't even look at me at lunch today - just at her and her perfect, feminine self. Over the weekend I convinced myself that there was something there, that he is worth my attentions and that he should mean something to me. Why would I do that... Fuck. I always do this. I emotionally attach myself to someone who I know is unattainable. Then, inevitability, I am crushed and perpetually alone.

Even my friends seemed to ignore me today - oh, look at her, look at her! What a fool she is. Why is she here? She is not one of us, she is not worth our time. She hasn't accomplished anything. No friends, not wanted. She will contaminate us.

That is what their eyes said to me. I haven't cut in almost 6 weeks. I don't know if I'll make it through the day without something letting go. My heart is tight from yet another doomed infatuation. Why did I have to eat before seeing him? I feel sick now.

Holding steady at 140. This damned plateau. I want to get drunk, I want to cut, I want to yell and scream, I want to tell someone ( I hesitate as I type). More than anything, I want this pain to go away. The depression is creeping back, a monster on all fours, dragging me closer and closer.

And more than half of me wants to just let it win.

Abandonned

Today was amazing. I woke up and felt wonderful - still at just-barely-under-140. After devising a wonderfully dark, attractive-yet-comfy outfit, I stepped into school and was handed free coffee! Wonderful. Then, I got my report card and I am sitting at straight 90s in my academics, then 95s in options. In Bio, I figured out the unit's main points. In Social, my teacher took us out for coffee/hot chocolate instead of doing a test because we, as an honors class of seven, brought our class average up by 10%. So much fun!

After school, as we got out early, the cast put on Harry Potter 6 and sat down and watched it together. It was amazing. Then, we all went out for dinner. Then, we had an absolutely wonderful closing show with an absolutely shitty audience (which made it better, because we didn't care about them either).

The after party was at a dreaded ice cream parlor, but I resisted major food and ice cream, opting for a kids cone of plain vanilla.

Soon, my friends begin to leave. All at once. You have to understand, during show, there was a group of about 10 of us who spent every day with each other from 3pm-10pm all week. There were jokes, drama and tender moments. So, imagine my dismay when they (the 9 of them) leave at once. I go to say good bye and one of them asks, "Are you coming?" I ask where. He says, "Oh, sorry, we're going to Micheles... sorry, you can't come. Bye."

They left. The people I wanted to spend my night with just left without me, without even asking if I could come or if I wanted to. They just left. Why couldn't I come? Oh, well, they thought I would have to go home.

Excuse me? No. How can they do that? Shit, I shouldn't be mad. I know that. I usually can't come, I haven't had the time. But... they don't understand how much I rely on their friendship and attention and company. They left and I was alone. Again. As always. As always.

God. And there is this guy, Z. He and I hit it off over the summer, like there were sparks. I was too scared to pursue though, I didn't know him or his cousin or anyone. Now I do. I've been hanging with them, and with him. But now he has a girlfriend (though they don't seem close). Still... I was crying backstage today because it was my last show blah-blah-blah and he just came up and gave me this long, tight hug.

I wanted to just blurt it all out. I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to cry harder. I wanted to just... ugh. But I couldn't. I didn't. But all night, he kept doing it. Every time I passed him back stage, even at the parlor, every time I looked sad or started getting flustered he just came up and hugged me. The more amazing thing was that I never once thought while he was hugging me if he thought I was fat. He gives bear hugs, real hugs, the all-the-way-around-your-waist hugs.

But then he left with them. And I realize I don't mean anything to him, I don't mean anything to any of them.

And I want to throw up that ice cream.

Everyone Else

Drama people are dramatic.

For anyone who has ever been in theatre, you know what I mean. Actors make drama amongst themselves, for they have problems separating life from the stage and imaginings, desires and hatred blooms under the spotlight. Techs make drama in order to, ironically, mock the drama of the actor who are - obviously, and often literally - below them. Actors make drama with Techs because if Techs screw up... no one can see. Techs make drama with Actors because they don't understand the anxiety of a monologue.

It's exhausting. But, I love it. I know why, too. It's because I swing between both (Imagine that, another grey area!) Most of my friends are actors, I go to actor parties, I talk the actor speak, I treat the actors like actors - but I am, and will always be, a tech. I run the show, they are the show. It's a line I enjoy balancing. I can feel involved with everyone, needed by everyone, acknowledged and respected by everyone.

Someone asked me why I bothered with theatre yesterday, I said: "Because it's fun." This is the real answer.

Beyond the confines of the stage, my life is still holding it's own, hovering above the OK line. Everyone else, though, just isn't. Everyone is raging, everyone is depressed. I realize now that they (specifically, a group of 4 or 5) were happier, more lively, when I was depressed. There was laughing behind me in class - I sit by myself in front of rows of friends now. They always mocked me, they found ways to lift each others spirits.

But now, it's not like that. Now, everyone is sad and lonely. I fight it's effects, but right now it's sinking in. Their negativity is contagious; I wonder, is it me? What am I doing? Did I wear the wrong thing? Am I bulging? Am I asking a stupid question? Did I ignore them? Did I say something wrong?

It's making me paranoid about everything. And the paranoia is adding to my generalized, showtime rage which is fueled by both physical and mental exhaustion. I'm popping advil like a drug addict. I feel boxed in by them. I feel worthless and needless and helpless.

So, I go and buy bake sale goods - a cupcake and ricebar. Which is bad, I know.

I want to fast. That is really what I want. It's what would bring my spirits up. But, I won't risk it. Not when the show depends on me to make it run. I tried fasting during show last year - I blacked out - it was a disaster. I can't risk it.

xxo

Show Week!

This is going to be mucho short because I literally have 5 mins here.



It's show week. This means a few things

1) 16-18hr days

2) Running/yelling/pushing/holding/fixing for 3hrs straight (gotta burn something, right?)

3) No time to do anything

4) Exhaustion

5) Eating less

6) Feeling more like I'm a part of something



I was feeling so good after last night's opening, I wore a tight-ish sweater dress (albeit, my hips are concealed via cardigan) for the first time. It's been a really, really, really good day so far.



Wish me luck,

Break a leg!



PS. I'm back down to 139. When the hell did that happen?

Most Random Day

I had a wonderfully long, eloquent, thought-provoking post all planned out.

It involved a philosophical, ED-esque look at New Moon and how the acting changed my entire perspective on the series, a stupid comment in Social that is plaguing my thoughts, how my jeans are for some reason loose and how I haven't weighed myself in a while because I'm too scared and how they may possibly be connected, how I'm at a stupid 84% in Bio because of ONE assignment the teacher lost, and how absolutely fucking ridiculous (and delicious) the idea of tropical (pineapple + coconut) green tea is.

But, I care not anymore. I wasted my night avoiding homework and studying for a unit test. I was happy, random, sparkling today - except I refused to deal with pressing issues, ones even beyond school and eating. I considered walking in to the guidance office and just telling her - this massive 400ilb+ sweet women who has "known" me for 3 years - that I: a) cut, b) am passively/agressively obsessed with perfection, c) have starved myself to lose weight and that I desperately want to do it again, d) am insanely, wholly and completely lonely and how no one knows me, e) can't stabilize my emotions, and f) honestly think I'm worthless.

I considered emailing my most trusted teacher.

Then, I thought of the repercussions. What would I sound like? That snotty nosed princess who's life is perfect until she fabricates a character twist that makes everyone wonder... that is where it's leading. People already think I'm perfect, that nothing bad ever happens to me, that nothing is ever wrong in my life. I have no motivation to be depressed, right? How could I! I'm an award winning student, the perfect respected-bitch-who-everyone-loves-to-hate. It must be for attention then. Or, oh, it's too perfect. The unnatainable perfectionist descends into depression - it's so true it's a cliche.

I can't live with that. Even if it's not perfect, beauty will arise from this pain, right?

P.S. Like the new layout? I'm having a love/hate relationship with it.

Booty + Retail Therapy

On Friday, we had our dress rehearsal. We also had an extreme winter storm-watch - a foot of snow, 70km/hr winds, and -30degree temperatures. Missing 3 of our techs due to the weather, all hell broke lose. Fights erupted, light bulbs broke, teachers yelled at each other, costumes ripped, blood was shed. It was good fun.

Today, I actually had a very busy, very good, and very light day. I slept OK, got up and helped shovel the drive way (2feet of snow) for an little under an hour (it is estimated by the internets that this burned over 300 calories. I think it's a lie) and then went off to work.

Problem: they changed the schedule without telling me! So, instead of working 1pm-9pm, I actually worked 5-9. Oh bother, 4hours to kill. What ever shall I do? Shop, of course. I found a cardigan, a really cute dress, two basic long sleeve tops and two pairs of jeans... And Xmas gifts.

The goes my paycheck. Whatever.

Is it just me or does buying new clothes, no matter how shitty you feel about the number, make things feel OK? They feel make me feel new too.

Oh, jeez. Soon, I'll be a shoppoholic AND an alcoholic. Oh well. At least I'm not buying food ;) Speaking of which, until about 9pm I had had only about 500cals all day.

Then, unfortunately, I went to an 18th birthday party afterwards. There was all manner of crap, and I did eat certainly my remaining 500cals. I had small victories - no ice cream with cake, no garlic bread with pizza, no chips, no fries, no pop etc.

Anyways, on the most annoying part of the night. I have this friend, Oce, who's gay. She was one of the only people who knew about my weight loss last year. So, you can imagine my annoyance when the first thing she says to me is: "Oh wow! Look at you, babe! You have a booty again!!!"

Yes, thank you. I've gained weight. Thanks. THANKS.

Awkward. I love her to pieces, and I have no problem with homosexuals at all. But, really? Did you have to say that? No.

LoveTrain

Pomegranate, this video and mittens are the only things keeping me from cutting/ binging right now.

I'm not even joking.

Bio = 70% on a fucking quiz on stuff we HAVEN'T LEARNED.
Social = bitch-friends essentially calling me a liar and a lazy, fat ass.
Spare = watched a romance movie (oh, woe is me)
English = girls talking about their relationships and how, what!, I've never had a boyfriend! Oh, you poor thing. Gigglegigglegiggle.

I hate people. Actually, I hate people. Often. Now. Today.

White Tea is Orange

This is going to be a quickie.

I'm still feeling as I was - lighter, a little happier (dare I say) and focused. Unfortunately, my eatting is still above what it should even healthily be. I'm scared to grasp it again. I'm scared to force it under that precious 1000cal line.

At the same time, I know that I have only 2weeks to wait before I can tighten the corset again. I feel weak for compromising, but at this point, it's either starve and fail or fail and eat. Or, the chocie I'm going with for now - exceed and binge. Once my marks go down, all hell brakes lose. I know that. Without my marks and commitments, I feel even more worthless.

Anyways. I might be assistant directing my school's musical next semester. I'm... excited.

Emotions.

God, it's weird to have them again.

Also, not only is my title to this post real... in that I just made some white-tangerine tea that is, for some marvelous reason orange, but it's also metaphorical. White tea, boring bland, is now gaining colour.

Yes, I'm a tool like that. <333