tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84687566446091454852024-02-06T21:54:42.662-08:00re(thin)k the (fat)esGreenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.comBlogger162125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-1476875599201012732010-10-17T00:37:00.000-07:002010-10-17T00:38:10.961-07:00Anyone still out there?http://wywher.blogspot.com/2010/10/lost-home.htmlGreenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-63922369283013747802010-10-12T05:23:00.001-07:002010-10-12T05:26:54.502-07:00New Bloghttp://wywher.blogspot.com/<br /><br />http://wywher.blogspot.com/<br /><br />http://wywher.blogspot.com/<br /><br />http://wywher.blogspot.com/<br /><br />http://wywher.blogspot.com/<br /><br />Same shit, different pile.Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-36684976228093825642010-07-17T23:18:00.000-07:002010-07-17T23:22:48.218-07:00I Want to Believe that<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="leaves">Girls are like</span><br /><span class="leaves"> apples on trees. The best</span><br /><span class="leaves"> ones are at the top of the tree.</span><br /><span class="leaves"> The boys don't want to reach for</span><br /><span class="leaves"> the good ones because they are afraid</span><br /><span class="leaves"> of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they</span><br /><span class="leaves"> just get the rotten <span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD3">apples</span> from the ground</span><br /><span class="leaves"> that aren't as good, but easy. So the apples</span><br /><span class="leaves"> at the top think something is wrong with</span><br /><span class="leaves"> them, when in reality, they're amazing.</span><br /><span class="leaves"> They just have to wait for the right</span><br /><span class="leaves"> boy to come along, the one</span><br /><span class="leaves"> who's brave enough</span><br /><span class="leaves"></span> <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="trunk">to climb</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="trunk"> all the way</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="trunk"> to the top</span><br /><span class="trunk"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> of the tree</span>.<br /><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="trunk">I want to believe I'm one of those girls at the top. That - someday - someone will care enough to take that extra step. But most of me knows the more likely truth - I'm already rotten on the ground or turned to vinegar. </span>I wish it didn't matter so much. I wish it didn't hurt so much.<br /><br />Friend, "God, I'm such a slut. I was making out with my neighbor last night, and I was like... WHAT?!"<br /><br />Me, "...that's random."<br /><br />Friend, "I guess. It was pretty innocent, I think we were both just missing people, y'know?"<br /><br />Me, "..."<br /><br />Friend, "Oh, _____, you're so pure."<br /><br />I fucking wish.<br /><br /><span class="trunk"></span></div></div>Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-10269521969175837082010-07-09T00:05:00.000-07:002010-07-09T00:31:01.683-07:00Cutting & Depression WARNING triggers-warning, if you cut, this is probs gonna be triggering... so don't read if you're triggered by details-<br /><br /><br /><br />I cut tonight.<br /><br />Not like the "I'm at work and upset so i'll scratch myself with a pin" kind of cutting, or the "nick the skin" kind either. I, robotically, went upstairs when I came home from hanging out with my wonderful, loving, supportive friends and said goodnight to my parents. I grabbed a razor as I passed the bathroom, split it open with my jewelry pliers, took of my pants and slashed.<br /><br />It's so.... discouraging. Above anything I'm disappointed in myself. All I feel right now is guilt. I let down my friends - they all knew something was wrong tonight and they all made an effort to make me feel better. But how can you tell a room full of people - most of them don't know I have any sort of anything going on - that you're feeling extremely self-concious, hopelessly lonely and overall worthless? You can't. I can't even tell my two friends who KNOW.<br /><br />And you know why? Because the source of all this rests at what I wanted out of this year. Last year around this time, I was yo-yoing between starving and binging - I loved 8hr shifts so I could fast. I had few friends to ever hang out with and they all kinda of ignored me anyways. I cut almost every week.<br /><br />Then, for my senior year I made some resolutions - none of which were followed at all. It's pathetically sad, but really all I wanted this year was for some stupid BOY to notice me and to prove to me somehow that I am... worth it? Pretty? More than a walking valedictorian? Someone who can step out of that friendship barrier and not judge... I don't know. I have daddy-issues, is that why I'm so boy focused? What can a guy give me that a friend can't?<br /><br />I guess, with me, and with frickin' society, it always comes down to "at least you have your looks!" Well, world, you - my parents, my parents' friends, my friends, random people off the street - have told me I'm pretty. Guess what? No boy ever has. No boy has EVER been interested in getting to know ME. No boy has ever.... anything. So, when it comes down to the lowest of the low, and I'm trying to get out of bed and walk past that mirror hanging on the door, I can't convince myself that, "at least I have my looks", cause guess what? It's not getting me anywhere now, and I'm not sure it ever will. They can't understand that because they're all in or have been in a relationship that has fulfilled them somehow. They can't understand what it's like to not only feel an unequivocally unattractive failure, but to also have absolutely nothing to counteract it.<br /><br />I wanted to have scholarship, I wanted to be skinny, I wanted a better job, I wanted... blah blah blah. I didn't want to go back to where I was last year - the blacking out, the obsessions. I didn't want that (all the time...) but that's the only way...<br /><br />It hurts so much to think about spending the next few weeks with family members at a beach. They're going to see my scars from the past year, there is no doubt in my mind. Guess I won't be the "perfect example" anymore, huh? Well, shit. Whoops.<br /><br />I'm so lost. I can't rely on school or drama anymore. I don't have any career goal or goal for university - which I'm going to be paying for the rest of my life. My awards and recognitions seem so completely irrelevant and undeserved. I feel guilty for having them. Someone who can appreciate their friends' and their situation and their gifts should have it. Not me. Because I'm to goddamned focused on what I don't have or have never had. I know this. I am aware of it and still I do shit all.<br /><br />I know in my mind I can't control it necessarily, I want to believe its the chemicals and that it's not my fault. But, really, I know it is.<br /><br />That's the part that hurts the worst.Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-18923944732627685232010-06-19T14:32:00.000-07:002010-06-19T14:58:22.317-07:00Existential Crisis' and Fantasies/DelusionsI've been wanting to post about this forever, but I haven't been able to sit down and organize my thoughts until now. Not that they're organized. I'm just here now.<br /><br />Starting on this one is going to be hard. I guess, the easiest thing to say is that I have no idea what's wrong anymore. I used to be insightful about my own self, my triggers and my motivations, but recently I've been confused about everything. I get manically happy (once in a blue moon) and motivated for no reason. Most of the time I'm in a haze, completely numb and complacent. I've come home after drinking and hanging out with friends (something that would usually pick me up) to contemplate cutting. I've stopped sleeping regularly, and I couldn't be bothered to study for my diploma's.<br /><br />Where is that girl who swung between hate and over-achieving? Where is my ED self, the obsessive self, the self that wanted to prove perfection (even if it meant doing nothing)? What in the hell happened to her?<br /><br />I had another awards ceremony yesterday - another huge award won by 69 students out of the countless thousands. All I could think was : "I don't deserve this". Because I didn't. The stuff I was nominated for, the stuff I won for, I quit months ago because I tried to live a life... not that that worked in the end.<br /><br />Anyways, on top of that, recently... and I know this makes me sound crazy.... I've been daydreaming about being in an asylum. I've always had fun making up stories with characters in my head - like, since I can remember I've occupied time doing it. Characters... who have diseases, disorders, addiction etc. Projecting my own issues, I'm sure. Regardless, my most recent story is one of a girl - kinda like me - in an asylum, and how freakin wonderful it is. Anorexia, heroin and cutting are her issues (woah, analyze that).<br /><br />Anyways. That combined with the general feelings of confusion recently has really set me for a whirl.<br /><br />I need something to do to keep my mind off this. I'm working fulltime, but it's not enough. A new hobbie, or sport. A challenge. Or maybe I'll try the photography thing. Suggestions? How crazy am I on a 1-10 scale?Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-86633916712937039402010-06-05T01:09:00.000-07:002010-06-05T01:19:50.768-07:00AloneI know I only come here when I'm feeling bad. But that's because I've restructured my coping. It used to be that I blogged after binging, restricting or cutting... almost as a punishment - admitting it. I blog now when I feel like doing those things. So, it's justified, right? Does it need justification...<br /><br />I'm registering for classes at university tomorrow and I'm feeling so depressed. For no reason. Is it because I'm realising now how I have no clue what I'm going to do with my life? Or because I'm beginning to get scared about next year? Or maybe I'm just feeling the effects of my graduation ceremony yesterday... Or I've finally given up.<br /><br />Tonight is the first night in a while that I've just been sitting in my room thinking... I could end it, right now.<br /><br />In a long while. It's kind of scary, but not at the same time. What's more scary is that the thought came to me so easily, effortlessly and without much provocation. I'm feeling really alone in the world, as per usual, but nothing else has really pushed me over. I legitimately, and, I lied, this is the scariest part... I have no idea why I'm so upset tonight.<br /><br />I've stopped eating breakfast - because I've been nauseous in the mornings, sometimes skimping on lunch. I've lost 5ilbs... and I don't know why. I have to remind myself to eat - but I don't feel guilty about it, so I'm not sure how ED related it is. It's so weird. I'm confused.<br /><br />I have 3 days left in my bubble. 3 days until my world bursts and I am released into semi-functional adulthood. Alone.<br /><br />And, besides feeling alone (though not surprised by the fact), I feel nothing.<br /><br />This has stopped me from cutting tonight :)Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-51417784486074549822010-05-22T23:46:00.000-07:002010-05-23T00:07:35.210-07:0095 vs 67.Though I'm not sure if this is going to help, I really really need to rant at something right now. I am sorry I worried anyone with my last post, though in truth, when re-reading, it's kind of scary to me. I've been trying to abstain from this blog simply because I know it triggers me in some way. Not in a "omg-I''m-blogging-better-go-restrict-nao!" way but in a "jesus-christ-this-is-pathetic" kind of way... and then the thought process starts and KAPOW. Here I am.<br /><br />Anyways, love you guys long time (anyone who still reads this).<br /><br />I'm graduating in 4 days from high school with, for the first time in my life, a group of friends that actually know me a little bit, with whom I've exchanged secrets and shared scandals. I have this flippin' gorgeous dress that I feel wonderful in and a real after-grad plan. I'm accepted into university. Everything is falling into place, and yet I feel... underwhelmed? Honestly, I don't really feel much despite the fact that I'm almost done public education and that I'm moving thousands of miles away come September. It's not the lack of excitement/sadness that's truely bugging me, I guess it's just the fact that the numbness is STILL here.<br /><br />Back in March when I made the resolution to "get better" (from what or why, don't ask me), my biggest goal was not to stop hating myself or to stop obsessing over my body, but to just FEEL and try to be in the moment. So far, I've stopped obsessing... well that's not even true. I haven't really changed, it's all still there, I just deal a little better and ignore it a little more. Truly, it helps. I weigh myself and measure often, but there are not ensuing panic attacks or gym trips and, vis versa, no huge binges. But... it's so frustrating because I feel like I've made this huge effort to turn myself around emotionally and yet nothing really has changed.<br /><br />Moreover, the whole "not being depressed" goal has seriously affected my marks/reputation - hilariously enough. It's hard to explain, but I think that I've come to the conclusion that ever since I was little school and grades were my way of getting attention, then in Jr High they were my way of coping with bullies (ha! I'm smarter than thou), then in High School I could either study or exercise or cut ( I love this progression ). Now, I have no reason to do homework because I'm no longer seeking my family/my teacher's /the intelligent elites' attentions - cause I have decent friends!<br /><br />I can not find any motivation to do anything. My grades are PLUNGING (like 60s) and I couldn't give a rats ass. AS per usual, there is no gray area with me. I have no idea what to do because I certainly don't want 90-95-90-92-67-72 as my grades for my last year of high school. Despite that... Part of me (and this is where I go back to the whole "i'm so worthless" thought cycle) thinks I'm just plain being lazy. Part of me thinks it's justified...ish. But by saying it's justified, it means I was actually... I don't know. I'm having a hard time - even with the blog-posts and the scars to prove it - believing I was depressed/ill.<br /><br />And what the hell can I do about it now? Very little. By not being depressed, I have academically screwed my grade 12 year over. Ugh. UGH!<br /><br />I'm exhausted of myself. My family is killing me (my dad doesn't have my grad day off, soooo typical) and I just can't even LOOK at university stuff. Maybe I'm just scared and all of this is a ploy to justify fear. I don't know. I need to go talk to the school counselor or something. Maybe that would help.<br /><br />LOL as if I would go. <3Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-73745063924082000162010-04-20T16:19:00.000-07:002010-04-20T16:21:52.953-07:00Cutting makes everything feel... better.<br />I can control something. Anything. Everything.<br /><br />Today:<br />- I found out I failed my mast test.<br />- Got 3 rejection letters.<br />- I was kicked off a team.<br />- I was forgotten about.<br />- I was humiliated.<br />- I was invisible.<br /><br />No one understands. No one can. I'm too fucked up. I need to get away. I need to die.Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-50796789798216642922010-04-15T21:33:00.000-07:002010-04-18T20:41:42.875-07:00Therapy, Grad & Boozing to NumbIn that order, no less. Sorry I've not posted, 'nuff said. We all know how this works.<br /><br />The question of therapy. Dot brought it up on my last post (btw, everyone who reads this please go to sanslesetoiles.blogspot.com and offer her some support. She's a wonderful person and she's going through a super hard time right now so give her some much deserved love). And, I guess, like everything else, I'm torn.<br /><br />At times like now, when I look back at the most menial things and see utter failure and worthlessness, I think -"Jesus, this is dumb. You need help." I can go back and read suicidal posts, I can cringe at an eating-disorder or an "emo" joke and look at my scars and SEE someone who needs a little push from a professional. When I think back, or even reflect on daily life, I see someone who can't handle what is happening and who takes every negative event or constructive criticism to a whole new level. I see someone who takes solace in alcohol and in attention.<br /><br />But that's where we reach the line. My rationale side, the side that is active and primarily in control when I am pleasant mood, is saying - "You're not sick. You're doing this for attention." And how true it could be. How many times have I fantasized about getting caught cutting or about getting cancer so the chemo would thin me out? How often I have!<br /><br />Like, seriously? Look at me now. I'm not cutting or fasting (though I think about it) and everyone has low-self esteem. Sure the slightly too-easy decent into the suicidal/hateful mindset is concerning, but I have no reason for it. I've created my own demon, so why in hell's name should I disgrace my family and cause them to spend unneeded money on selfish me?<br /><br />Then, there are the general concerns about what people/teachers would think. If they would think I'd been faking (I have), or being a drama queen (I have). Essentially, getting therapy means someone figuring out my ugly self and I can't... I don't want that.<br /><br />I know I'm making excuses for not doing it, even though in my heart of hearts, I know I should even just to deal with family issues much less my own depression. I don't know how to go about it. I don't know if I could keep the secret. What I do know is my perfect image is concrete in public, it is undeniable. Once that mask begins to flake... I could lose everything. I'm terrified to even attempt.<br /><br />Anyways.<br />End that thought. I want therapy I guess, I don't think I need it or deserve it, and I'm terrified of it.<br /><br />I'm feeling really crappy right now because, once again, I've been forgotten. All my close friends have my grad arrangements assuming I was hanging with another group for grad. Alone, again. Surprise, surfreakinprise. It's all handed in and done, so I can't do shit all about it. they're all "we're so sorry, we thought..." yeah, well. What can I do? I'm so dumb, this is my own damn fault.<br /><br />On top of that, I'm feeling in general fragile right now. I've reached for the blade a few times, never put it to skin... yet. The 30hr famine is coming up and I don't know if I want to risk fasting... even if it's for a good cause. Last time I stretched it into a 78hr famine... by changing the dates over and over. I can't be sucked into that again.<br /><br />Anyways, I'm drinking on Saturday. With older people. And, honestly, I just want to numb it. Just for a night. With people I can trust to not rape me or some shit like that. Might say or do something stupid, but I don't care.<br /><br />Weight is somehow still at 140-143. Logic is absent from my body and mind.<br /><br />[edit: didn't get drunk at all. in fact, I fucking was insulted... alone all night. I should have fasted when I had the chance. binged today. cut today too. it's all starting again. and no one will ever know.]Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-76819746618686691392010-04-06T20:59:00.001-07:002010-04-06T21:23:49.737-07:00FailureI don't know what to do. I didn't cut that night, by the way, and foreignobject - if you can leave your email for me, I will keep in touch, I would love that. I went on vacation to Florida with the family and it was so completely stressful.<br /><br />I know, right? On vacation and stressed out of my mind. I got so sick, nearly blacked out from heat exhaustion one day. I just... I can't live with my family. We're so full of shit, every single one of us. My brother, the eldest, is an ass but he's hurting too. My dad is so fucking ridiculous and so disrespectful and abusive... but he doesn't think he's doing anything wrong and he is so convinced that he is right. He's so on his high horse, he doesn't care if he hits my brothers in public, he doesn't care that his children are terrified of him. He demands respect, but respects no one.<br /><br />My mom has such low self esteem, she can't even contain it from me, despite the fact that she knows how much I'm struggling right now. It hurts to watch her, to take her shopping and leave empty handed everytime. It takes so much energy to not burst out, screaming "You're not the only one who thinks she's fat... Mom, we're the same fucking size stop cursing how fat you are, how do you think it makes me feel?" It's exhausting and I can't be around her, because I fear for my own sanity. And... I feel terrible for it, but I'm almost done. My respect for her dwindles every time she walks out of the room when my Dad goes off on a rampage. Why should I have to be the one fighting against HER husband to protect HER children? Why do I have to be the protector.<br /><br />I tanned and lost 10ilbs while away, and I felt it. I felt so damn good. Sexy, almost. Like I finally could tackle the world, these last few months of school do it with vigor and intelligence. These last two days that I have been home, literally within seconds I go from sexy-model posing in the mirror to contemplating the razor or crying. I've spent two days holed up in my room, cycling through the roller coaster. And now, on the eve of going back to school, i have accomplished nothing.<br /><br />My projects are not done. Assignments are not complete. I am more stressed out than before school went on break; I am more jealous and hateful and terrified of... everyone and everything I can't get.I can't justify anything to myself right now. I want to call my friend, I want to text her saying: "Tell me that I'm worth something, that's all I need to see, just type it back, please." But I know she is sleeping and I can't bother her.<br /><br />I feel like a complete and totally failure on multiple accounts. My project fucking fails compared to others and I don't even want to hand it in. I don't want to go to class because I haven't reviewed and I'll look like an imbecile. I feel trapped. I don't even want to cut, I just want to sleep. I just want to die.<br /><br />But, I can't do that either.<br /><br />Utterly useless.<br /><br />I'm not going to make it through the year. Right now, I don't want to.<br /><br />I don't know what to do anymore other than fake it in hopes that it'll eventually become truth. Smile a happier, tanned smile than before. No, there is no hope. Not tonight.Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-20695545989556526802010-03-23T20:44:00.001-07:002010-03-23T20:45:06.178-07:00I will not cut.<br />I will not cut.<br />I will not cut.<br /><br />I will make it through the week.<br />I will pass my test tomorrow.<br />I will exceed expectations.<br /><br />I will not let anyone down.<br /><br />I will not cut.Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-68786032705393319562010-03-20T21:06:00.000-07:002010-03-20T21:52:43.526-07:0020x0 is still 0So, now it's 20 days later since I made that resolution to give... this up. To stop feeling worthless, to stop caring about what people have said to me... I came to the conclusion that... life is too short. That I had to change - and that it couldn't get any worse.<br /><br />I was right, but it didn't get me anywhere. I had a few good days, I didn't cut, nor have I restricted/fasted/binged. My weight hasn't changed. I've become so much closer with my friends, and I've skipped my first class to comfort a friend who broke up with her boyfriend. I've brought my grades up. I've been honest.<br /><br />I've told someone about last year and about the 3 months of eating disorder attitude... how if it wasn't for the blog I wouldn't remember anything. I also told her about the cutting, the depression. What's better? She understands - not the ED or the cutting - but the depression and the suicidal thoughts.<br /><br />I'm not to the point of removing the razors from around my house, or to the point of texting her when I'm feeling low but... it's something right?<br /><br />The hate is still there, though.<br /><br />I'm still looking at pictures. Still thinking about blood and pain. About a future that is so entirely meaningless, and that I am entirely worthless. I am so used to the idea of death... I have come to the conclusion that life... everything ends. Death is inevitable.<br /><br />And I don't know what to do know. I feel like I have tried everything in an attempt to move on and to get rid of this feeling... this hatred... this concrete perspective.<br /><br />What's the point of even trying? Under all the layers of effort and masks and scars... the ugly me is still here, it's still present. It's still me. What can I do?<br /><br />I need to feel something again. Give me pain, if that's what's real.Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-85776495912396133542010-03-01T20:49:00.000-08:002010-03-02T09:08:16.454-08:00Cross the Line<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs48/i/2009/203/4/a/Cross_Line_by_beself.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 455px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 303px" alt="" src="http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs48/i/2009/203/4/a/Cross_Line_by_beself.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Today was really tough -- but in a completely different way then I am used to. Last night, I had my usual Sunday OCD anxiety attack and only got 4hrs of sleep... The day started off with a Math quiz that I got 70% on instead of 85% due to a stupid mistake on one question, so, tired and feeling shitty about myself in general, I plugged off to theatre where we participated in the exercise Cross the Line.<br /><br />For those who don't know, Cross the Line means a few things: tears, guilt and unity. Essentially, you get a group of near-strangers (in this case my tech theatre class and a drama class) together and get them to swear to silence, nothing leaves the room, nor can you speak during the exercise. The teacher then proceeds to ask questions like: "If you like Oreos, cross the line." which evolve into "Cross the line if you've thought seriously about suicide in the last month." Each question has a meaning behind it - racial acceptance, seeing how we perpetuate hurt etc.<br /><br />It was intense.<br /><br />I decided quickly that, even though I wasn't going to be held to it, I felt strong enough to be truthful throughout the whole thing. I crossed when asked about suicide, abuse, knowing someone who was addicted to substance, being hit by a loved one, being teased for weight/race, self-harm... and you know what? It felt so good. Without saying a word, I told a room full of people part of my story. I had a friend in the room who just burst into tears when I crossed for suicide... and, god, it made me feel terrible. This poor girl, even just at the thought of it... I just felt so bad for even considering it.<br /><br />After the questions were done, we sat in a circle and waited for people to start talking - and they did. I wanted to share so much - that I knew exactly what one of the girls who told her story about cutting when she was younger and how she's falling back into it and how, to cope, she's throwing herself into the musical, that I knew what she was going through. I wanted to tell how much it hurt to be in that circle - and how much I was happy for it because I was raised to present a perfect mask - to be emotionless. I wanted to thank everyone for proving to me it wasn't theatre that was wrong for me, it was that mean girls in Jr high said mean things.<br /><br />And I could have, and almost did, but we ran out of time. I did, however, tell my story about my issue over my racial identity. How, for a long time, I couldn't identify with either side of my family - my mom's being white, anglo-saxon irish and my dad's being Caribbean/african because kids at school wouldn't accept me. I wasn't white enough for the Caucasian kids and I wasn't brown/yellow enough for the other ethnic minorities. Really, until a few reunions ago, I didn't feel like I belonged in my family, much less my school or my own skin. I cried, and I was proud for that.<br /><br />And this was all BEFORE lunch time. From there, it was downhill. I was absorbed in thought, and really now is the first time I've been able to sit down and process it all day. I got overwhelmed with homework and projects, being left out of a get together and other random drama. So, I came home, had a mini-binge, and spent 3hrs on homework/organizing.<br /><br />Now, my heart hurts for the girl who I found out is getting abused by her alcoholic father and for the guy who walked in on his sister trying to hang herself. For a while today I felt really guilty... and I guess I still do. These people come to school every day with a smile, they do what they do best everyday and they do it amazingly. And yet I wake up feeling fat and can't smile all day.<br /><br />Part of me feels guilty, part of me feels lighter. Its not just me and it's out there now - I don't even care if people find out. I'd rather they know and get to know me and how I react and how I'm dealing with it. Part of me is really proud that - hey - shit has hit the fan at home. I'm sucking in my classes. I'm eating too much. I'm being a terrible contributor to my clubs and societies. But, I still haven't cut. I haven't full out binged. I haven't thrown myself into punishment fasting or exercise.<br /><br />I'm going to be OK. And, until I am, I know now who I can talk to - and that my story is already kind of started.<br /><br />So, I will keep on blogging, I promise, because I don't want to lose this method of expression because I'm not going to go from this to talking to people in real life over night. Plus, my followers rock. But, just a warning, I want to do an overhaul of this blog - I need to get away from the thin/fat. I'm perpetuating it. I call myself fat/worthless 200000x more often then anyone else does.<br /><br />Of course, I still went through ED, and I still have eating/body-image issues so expect further comment and perspective from that end of the table. I hope everyone can support me in this because turning this blog around is going to be tough and, of course, I will still be here to support everyone who is struggling with depression or eating disorders. Thank you all so much <3<br /><br />[art: ~ beself deviantart]Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-16428176021735213412010-02-24T21:21:00.001-08:002010-02-24T21:44:00.575-08:00Walking In Circles<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQIuZi-ussZPLmzEcvf3T3Owk3MllCyoUkZ1-txSka49zAIYn-0TybnxwuSDkTr_Le3slqeL2gep8_MMFDRad-3rqinIA72kRuNKYoVUb5Vk5_Iql647BwwDM2O_uAMrwHuxk4ZI7cSSg/s1600-h/anywhere.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 349px; height: 232px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQIuZi-ussZPLmzEcvf3T3Owk3MllCyoUkZ1-txSka49zAIYn-0TybnxwuSDkTr_Le3slqeL2gep8_MMFDRad-3rqinIA72kRuNKYoVUb5Vk5_Iql647BwwDM2O_uAMrwHuxk4ZI7cSSg/s400/anywhere.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442052230167475794" border="0" /></a><br />@Kay: Of course I remember you :) Welcome back isn't the most appropriate statement to use, but the sentiment is there!<br /><br />@SmallerStill: Cheesey quotes are always good. Thanks!<br /><br />@foreignobject: My family dynamic is extremely complicated. I'll try and write about it more... The easiest way to explain it is that, for me at least, I've always been the 2nd mother. The parents were gone a lot/ there were 4 toddlers running around at the same time and I was the oldest. I was type A from birth. So, I've felt "grown-up" and "responsible" since I was like 10. Now that my brothers are a little bit older, they don't see me as a sister or a "friend" at all - I'm their mother. And I feel the same way about them - and not in a particularly protective way - in a do-your-chores-stop-being-mean kind of way. My mom was always there to offer love to us, but I was the one who made sure the kitchen was cleaned and the laundry was done. As for my dad, well, that's another long story. Another time.<br /><br />Anyways. I'm doing some hard-core emotional rollercoastering lately. On Tuesday I was so upset that people actually started worrying and asking about it (which is a feat for me and my mask of perfection). The pressure of my grades, my commitments... the fact that the year is drawing to a close and I haven't accomplished anything real and the fact that I started my period and was bloated/craving all to hell. I refused to wear anything by a super-baggy shirt and kept looking down at the excess fabric, and I kept convincing myself it was fat... anyways. I have gained in the past while - about 5ilbs. I do attribute most of that to the week of my grandparents being here and my mom not being here. You can't say no to them... and then I was PMSing and... it's all bad.<br /><br />But on Monday I went to the gym... and I have plans to exercise tomorrow and Friday. Part of my issue is that I have no motivation besides emotion. I used to walk every night for like an hour or so, so by the time I got home I had centered myself and could focus on work and resist food. But ever since September, grade 12 hit me like a pile of bricks and I feel like I can't spare the time. But I need to start.<br /><br />So, yesterday was terrible. Today wasn't great either, but I bought food at school despite forgetting lunch and having a perfectly good reason to skip a meal. I bought a calorie-laden coffee concoction after school on my way to a meeting just because.<br /><br />And thinking back... I am not OK with it - but at the same time I'm not feeling anything bad about it. Today. I know I've started using food as a coping mechanism... scratch that, I'm just using it more as a coping mechanism... and I'm using school as an excuse. I don't want to skip any meals because I won't be able to focus - and I'm screwed enough in my subjects as it is.<br /><br />I'm neutral right now... and as such, I am not going anywhere. We'll see how long that lasts. I don't want to fall back into the constant depressive cycle of active ED behaviour and destructive behaviour like before... but, hell, I do want to find somewhere in between.Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-12691849225829569942010-02-21T16:45:00.000-08:002010-02-21T17:55:19.253-08:00Thanks everyone :)<br /><br />I woke up feeling a little better this morning - in a terrible, mean way. Here's the story: When I went to bed last night I noticed that my brother (the next youngest, the one who fights with my dad, smokes pot and steals/lies constantly) had snuck out. Long story short, he'd locked himself out and ended up having to ring the doorbell to get back in and my grandparents (who are here now). There was a lot of swearing, and there was a lot of him proclaiming he was "fucking sorry".<br /><br />Anyways, he's in deep shit. And he knows it. So... point of this wonderful family heartwarmer is that I feel asleep listening to him cry and mumble and throw things in his room. I'm caught because he's lied all his life. He does anything he wants and the entire family is devoted to appeasing him so that my dad/mom don't have to deal with his shit. We've spent 30K plus on trying to "fix" him - therapy, tutors, coaches etc. My parents would forget about picking us up because they were fighting with him.<br /><br />So do I believe him when he apologizes? No. Do I revel in his groundings? Yup. So, I'm sitting there, thinking about the differences between myself and my brother, how we've each developped our own "issues" and I just ended up crying and crying all night. Irrational exhaustion was certainly apart of it, but another part was that I sit there and I look down on him even though we're really in the same spot. Our only difference is that my parents know and recognize his issues because he's not smart enough to hide them.<br /><br />Anyways, I woke up to a huge grandparent-esque breakfast. Been eating, baking and sitting all day... I don't know. I don't feel bad about it today. I'm just... yup, I'm a pig. Gotta live with it. That'll change tomorrow, or the next day I am sure. Just having a swing day.<br /><br />This week is going to be insane crazy busy... so I'm sure that by the time we hit Tuesday, I will be done. This week is going to go by so quickly. I want to... I don't know. I want to accomplish something with my life - the bigger picture. Actually, hilariously enough, in my half asleep daze, I considered turning my brother in the the school counselor and being all bo-ho he's a drug addict and I'm his caring, perfect sister. Hahahahahaha<br /><br />I'm such a bitch.Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-58898867916548758102010-02-20T23:35:00.000-08:002010-02-21T00:07:03.834-08:00I can't tell you all how many times I have opened up this page in the last week. Tonight is the first time I've gone far enough to actually click "new post". I don't know why I have been avoiding it... I honestly don't know.<br /><br />It's been a hard week. I mean, looking back, outwardly, I was OK. Save for Friday when I couldn't even pretend anymore, my week seemed decently OK. Everything was OK. It's always OK.<br /><br />Meanwhile... I don't know. Every day I woke up feeling fat. I had dumb, vivid dreams of random meetings and occasions - meaning I didn't really sleep and that never helps. Everyday I made resolutions to fast or exercise. Every day I didn't. I failed (below 85) a few tests... my entire last math unit. I don't understand my classes. I feel utterly trapped in my own inadequacies. On Friday, in my tech class, I blanked for a second. I was so upset - so suddenly too. I walked out of class, walked under the theatre and spent a good five minutes slashing at my wrists with blunt, stage paint encrusted fingernails... And then I came back into class and no one even noticed.<br /><br />No one ever notices.<br /><br />I nearly considered jumping out infront of a car tonight. Messy. And, even now, I don't regret it. My life isn't that hard. Why am I so dramatic. I need to pull it together, I'm falling apart.<br /><br />I'll write more tomorrow, I promise. I actually do. Sorry.Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-78468861803718387992010-02-13T12:08:00.000-08:002010-02-13T22:56:57.839-08:00Surprise, Surprise<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAzQsPPV5clpX3-sSclUc13_WgsTEo9iR-1PSxGi_45GjyjJN7BaF5SMw8pLlng3LE8X7Qq-jgKdzPpRXxWWX5frq-Ah6FpPetsJ-1nmmb9Ihy-rA8uM4vUUk9GAEY3C6ACXvxoTPd6Fo/s1600-h/neww+028.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAzQsPPV5clpX3-sSclUc13_WgsTEo9iR-1PSxGi_45GjyjJN7BaF5SMw8pLlng3LE8X7Qq-jgKdzPpRXxWWX5frq-Ah6FpPetsJ-1nmmb9Ihy-rA8uM4vUUk9GAEY3C6ACXvxoTPd6Fo/s400/neww+028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437826463508943042" border="0" /></a><br />Dot and Ana's Girl... like seriously, what would I do without you guys :) [also, pic sans makeup. deal with it]<br /><br />I just got home from my best girl-friend's (the one whom I told kinda sorta about this and my general issues with my body etc) 18th birthday party. Now, I knew that the night would involve snacks, pizza, lots of high-calorie alcoholic drinks and cake. I excused the night because I didn't want to be a downah for my friend etc etc, so THAT doesn't matter.<br /><br />It was fun overall. I had an amazingly fun night (despite the guy who tossed his cookies whilst proclaiming is sobriety). The bad? My friend was trying to hook me up with her random friend Eric who was delicious. Yeah. He ended up making out with the <span style="font-weight: bold;">same girl</span> Z. is in love with.<br /><br />Ouch.<br /><br />(I'm getting over him, but still... story of my life). And by the end of the night, the 5 remaining people were two couples and me. Again, story of my life. So, that along with a belly full of shit and, admittedly, an extremely inebriated me was a recipe for sadface.<br /><br />Yeah, I was so wasted. Love it. Good thing about that was pretty early on I reached the about-to-vomit point so I didn't eat anything until breakfast this morning (a reasonable portion of oatmeal). And, no hangover so yay.<br /><br />Another of my friends encountered heartbreak last night, so I have work for a few hours then damage control. I remember thinking last night, even while I was drunk, that I wanted to make it through the next three days sans binging. So, that's my goal for now and we'll go from there. My next step in figuring out this next semester is trying to incorporate the gym into my schedule.<br /><br />Also, no drowning my sorrows in chocolate tomorrow. As a perpetual single-lady, I hate Valentines Day. Thanks, Hallmark. Yes, I know I'm single. No, I don't have a date. Thank you.<br /><br />Hope everyone is doing well... and if you DO have a significant other, HAPPY VALENTINES DAY. If you're not cynical like me... I guess enjoy the day too ;P<br /><br />[Edit: Fmylife. I just had the worst effing night at work in my entire life. I didn't binge, though I ate more that I should have. I'd almost made it through the day under 1000. Makes me wonder if I really freaking tried, if I wasn't such a lameass, then I could get skinny again. Then I could feel... better about myself again. Damn it, what is stopping me? Ugh. UGH. Why why why did everything just have to explode. Tomorrow is going to hurt all day - Valentines Event at work. So dumb. Why do I put everything on MEN. Men are dumbasses, dicks. Why must everything rely on how they, how my friends, how my coworkers see me. Why can't I see me and fucking live with myself regardless of how pathetic my reflection is? Yet, even though I can't live with my reflection, I can't bring myself to change it. Too scared of getting glass in my hand.]Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-33359372329862432522010-02-09T20:37:00.000-08:002010-02-09T20:53:30.750-08:00Elitist/Masochistic?New followers :)<br /><3 <3 <3 <3<br /><br />I've been terrified to post. This is due to the fact that... lately... besides some admitted stress-induced, high calorie indulgences... I've been good. The first week back and this week too have really kicked my ass. I've worked a ton, I've hung out a ton with friends, I've excerised, I've done homework, I've studied, I've convinced myself that, for me, not knowing what I want to do with my life IS the BEST thing... basically, I've been a) too busy to actually spend time wallowing in negativity and b) ...happy (dare I say).<br /><br />Sure, it's hard. I've had a few school/ocd/food related crying-breakdowns. But, that's ok, right? Emotion is ok? If pain is what is real... if it is what it takes to feel, then that's the price we pay, right? Part of me is satisfied with this... wanting to convince the rest of me that - hey, life is OK! But "happiness" makes me hyper self-aware. I'm realising a pattern. Despite general moodswings and some motivation to be content... I honestly think a real reason behind my continued plateau of contentedness is the fact that everyone else's life is crumbling around me.<br /><br />One of my friends just finally left her abusive household.<br />Her boyfriend is failing because he doesn't sleep because he's so worried about her.<br />Another friend confessed her OCD and body issues (wow now) related to her not being the Asian stereotype (she's gorgeous, just not stick-thin, JPOP princess-genius, anime lover).<br />Another friend is having surgery.<br />Another's mother is starting chemo.<br /><br />So, really, what am I complaining about? It makes me wonder if I am secretly elitist. My life is ALWAYS going to be worse than yours, and, well, if it isn't, I am going to be HAPPIER. Or if, by making this realisation, that I am completely masochistic because I can't even appreciate my own good perception on the present.<br /><br />Hm. For now, anyways, things are good. I've been scared to post because of my good mood and because I have been getting bigger... muscle wise. Which, I know, will pay off at some point. But, right now, I'm just bloated (it looks) because I've been working my abs/thighs/arms. My arms are so THICK because the layer of fat didn't go before the muscle came back. D:<br /><br />Valentines day is coming up, so we'll see how long this actually lasts. I really really really want to do the bitch-thing and just tell Z I like him because his snide remarks kill me inside. Then again, how many times have I (in jest and in the moment) told him I love him? Too many. Mrrrrg.<br /><br />I'm a terrible community member, but I love you all. Promise :)Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-15529235393110469032010-02-01T21:37:00.000-08:002010-02-01T21:53:21.126-08:00Anxiety > Binging<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi02GTermA6E97py5p7-gid30JCI0leNIqOW1Yn4JpDAUo1rhnvdjUYzD-kDgCu6Wrdapl_BIAAEl0RH8k7AeTFdi2fJp2t3tCGARw6yFGGVJ71OQLS6hgidd2mKe-idkpfLtVICn1E8aA/s1600-h/9+030+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi02GTermA6E97py5p7-gid30JCI0leNIqOW1Yn4JpDAUo1rhnvdjUYzD-kDgCu6Wrdapl_BIAAEl0RH8k7AeTFdi2fJp2t3tCGARw6yFGGVJ71OQLS6hgidd2mKe-idkpfLtVICn1E8aA/s400/9+030+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433519788437248738" border="0" /></a><br />Trying to explain/justify why I haven't posted in a week would be a waste of your time and mine.<br /><br />In general, there was no reason - just busy. Sometimes there was a reason - nothing new. I'm in a foul mood at the moment due to how terrified and frustrated I am with school and the prospect of post secondary. Today marked DAY ONE of the last semester of obligatory school in my life. Tonight marked 4hrs of looking at homework papers and questions, crying and having no idea how to go on with my life (or, the thought crosses my mind, if I should).<br /><br />The tightness of major anxiety is back in my chest, and I don't like it. It's too early for that shit. Too freaking early in the semester. In the week! University is ravaging my soul (yes, it is supposed to be that dramatic) and I'm so insanely terrified of making the "wrong" decision. Even if, at this point, there is no "wrong" choice. People keep telling me to "go with my gut feeling". A) I am. My gut is effing confused. B) My intuition has a long, long history of sucking major hairy balls.<br /><br />Ugh.<br /><br />Plus side is that I am so focused on my anxiety that my binge urges are being suppressed. They're still there... just below the surface. But, someone in me is yelling: IF YOU BINGE YOU'LL WASTE TIME AND YOU DON'T HAVE TIME TO WASTE - YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING.<br /><br />I feel like such an idiot. My chem class has an entering average of 82. I had an 88 coming into the class. That's an outstanding mark, and with these people - it's average. I spent 4hrs doing 15questions of review. Shit I should know, but don't. So frustrated with myself. I can't screw up. I need this course. I need it to go to university. GOD why did I take electives that aren't worth anything? I have no wiggle room at all.<br /><br />Moreover, my goals of 14Day Challenge.... were not met. Any of them. Perhaps the music one was, but that hardly counts. It's like: OK, lets look at everything you can possibly succeed at in the last month...well, you failed that... and that... and that... and that...etc.<br /><br />I know I'm being overly dramatic, so my apologies for the "my-life-is-harder-than-yours" preach. Because it's not. People do this and do it successfully with boyfriends and stick-thin bodies and a social life and scholarships. Boo-hoo me. I suck. What the fuck now.<br /><br />Picture is a fitting goodbye to a failed challenge. Sad, demon eyes of a girl too consumed with herself to be any good. To whenever I write next, <3Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-4367290173236772262010-01-26T18:50:00.001-08:002010-01-26T19:09:24.597-08:00Stab, Stab and...wait for it... STAB<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-XSEi3C2R6pwnX-L4q0ToC1Yf__5FPfSGCyYnmC-A-RqI3N-aboMOUAhQtHeds8LLEfESg7Qhks8SImtsturhM_3c8Orr2S9fvWAqoa6ywG3E074WyTcRG9WCPEKS_Pvh25hXeWMtTo/s1600-h/splode.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-XSEi3C2R6pwnX-L4q0ToC1Yf__5FPfSGCyYnmC-A-RqI3N-aboMOUAhQtHeds8LLEfESg7Qhks8SImtsturhM_3c8Orr2S9fvWAqoa6ywG3E074WyTcRG9WCPEKS_Pvh25hXeWMtTo/s400/splode.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431251328242865490" border="0" /></a>Don't worry, it's not real brains + blood. ;P ...though bashing my head against a nice, white, solid fence does seem like perfectly suitable way to spend my time right now. The weekend swung between being rough and being fun, being disappointing and hopeful. My head hurts from thinking about it. I kept up with exercising + studying but, obviously, the posting + picture taking (the part I am most enjoying) failed.<br /><br />This is due to what I call the TRIPLE THREAT. That is I somehow managed to land three diplomas - Biology, English B and Social B - one after another. Bio went alright - it was one of those tests that was almost TOO easy. I felt like I was missing something crucial because the questions were ridiculously simple. Not that I'm complaining about an easy test, just watch me get like 70% on it though.<br /><br />English was today and... ugh. The worst part about English multiple choice exams is that it's completely subjective. Usually you can narrow it down to two answers, and after that it is a crap shot. This test... 85% of the questions were ones you could MAYBE narrow down to three answers. The wording was often off, and, personally, I could not follow the trend in the questions and how it related to the texts... just blah. On top of it being a generally confusing and vague test, the texts were rather boring so I started skimming / sleeping. Bad combo.<br /><br />I felt terrible about it. Mostly because I felt as though my AP training should have prepared me for it and that I was, inherently, disappointing my teacher. Grrr. Anyways. That sucks, but I know my written portion was decent so I could be able to hold onto a high 80s grade. Social is tomorrow and I'm hoping it will be OK. Social is usually OK.<br />/school rant.<br /><br />I'm doing alright. The binging has scaled down to "normal" calorie content, but it's still all at once or at two intervals in the day. I know it's bad. I have optimism for the new semester - well, I do tonight at least - so hopefully it'll work out. Sounds crazy, but I'm considering marching on over to... well... to somewhere to deal with it. With the sleep issues, with stress, with anxiety. I want to find ways to help those. I just don't want THIS, this selfish obsession, found out. Eh. Maybe not. Eventually it'll boil down to - "You didn't seem to have that bad a day today, why are you freaking out!?" And the only answer I will have is "I ate too much, or I realised how fat I was, or someone called me _______." Bleh.<br /><br />Aggravatingly, my weight has still not changed. After 4-ish days of caloric, belly-busting binging, I am still 140. Why can't my metabolism burn 3000 calories/day when I am fasting or even eating normally? Ugh. I am not complaining about the immovable plateau, it's just I'm sure that if my body responded by gaining 10ilbs, I would stop binging. But it hasn't, so someone in there says "just keep going!"<br /><br />Hope everything is going ok for everyone. I'll catch up with blogs either tomorrow or Thursday I promise :)Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-13452138812248660482010-01-23T23:13:00.000-08:002010-01-23T23:24:29.242-08:00Miracle Cure: Baby Oil<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6r4StH0GObbypkyJrJCTe2Vzt_-UqtvlF4NdiX90pJbBdtak1TlKtIsw6cFunM0b-coD78xCqxoMx-D1NnD5fv2GQcIu9TLGX9NX3CoMRjS6Piw2zhCaZDo0tj5UX8FzeUssQt17-ZMk/s1600-h/nostalgia.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6r4StH0GObbypkyJrJCTe2Vzt_-UqtvlF4NdiX90pJbBdtak1TlKtIsw6cFunM0b-coD78xCqxoMx-D1NnD5fv2GQcIu9TLGX9NX3CoMRjS6Piw2zhCaZDo0tj5UX8FzeUssQt17-ZMk/s400/nostalgia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430203748158170786" border="0" /></a><br />After a long shower and a rare indulgence of baby oil, I feel a little bit better. Today was hard because I made it hard. Universities are screwing with my head. My binging impulse is screwing with my stomach and metabolism. The fact that I can't focus long enough on studying for my oh-so-important diploma's is grating. All the way, I'm beginning to realize that I make life difficult for myself. And that I can't stop.<br /><br />I think I might be PMSing too, which never helps.<br /><br />I don't have much to say tonight. Hopefully tomorrow will get along better - I am forcing myself to go to a group study session, which means I will actually focus. Which is always good. Maybe I can fix this weekend tomorrow... this week. I feel so gross and bloated from... three or four days of binging. Blarg.<br /><br />Today's picture is nostalgic. This was my grad 9 "graduation" dress. Besides being about 4inches too short, it still "fits". By "fits" I mean it's a size 5/6. It's far, far too big around the bust /waist. Like, so big it was slouching in the back. It makes me wonder if it ever fit - I don't think it did. Makes me wonder if I was always so concerned with my stomach and my thighs and how big they looked... so I bought a dress a size or two (or 4) too big. I just remember feeling wonderful in that dress.Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-41422189327764956192010-01-22T23:04:00.000-08:002010-01-22T23:21:13.155-08:00selfish<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY3oKTRIEYhOO73QwIDPb15plHgnmukfFkMffMPye8PBZrZjol6Yc8vXUctok9v_rCQAlrjEp_RwnMl_8yWuv3Odi_nUWBDaTnYVfLHX38snq5e1tKBPjdv7P0kioMPkun8j7vKwugG7w/s1600-h/glowingfire.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY3oKTRIEYhOO73QwIDPb15plHgnmukfFkMffMPye8PBZrZjol6Yc8vXUctok9v_rCQAlrjEp_RwnMl_8yWuv3Odi_nUWBDaTnYVfLHX38snq5e1tKBPjdv7P0kioMPkun8j7vKwugG7w/s400/glowingfire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429831814821534530" border="0" /></a><br />I am selfish. Everything I think, all I react to, all I expect... everything is about me me me. This whole blog is exhibit freakin' A. God. I wouldn't let myself sleep last night until I planned out my day to the 15minute mark. I wouldn't. When the bus was late, I blamed myself - when my bank card expired and I had to give up on a purchase at the mall - it was my fault, my karma. When I came home and binged, then stopped for a few hours, then binged again... it was all to avoid things I couldn't deal with. When I sat down with my mother and she started crying and blaming herself for my callousness, for the fact that I've never had a boyfriend, that I'm so hard on myself, that I have bad self-image, that I hate my dad, all I could think was - NO it's not YOU it's Me.<br /><br />I'm so done with myself.<br /><br />Probably consumed over 3000 calories today. Didn't study at all. No music. Nothing besides 1hr of walking.<br /><br />I hate myself for no goddamn reason other than I am obsessed with myself and I have to find something to critisize because I am a selfish bitch. WHY DO I CARE?<br /><br />I'm not a pity case. I'm not someone who should recieve support... I'm here, begging for attention, because without it I die. Because I can't get it anywhere else. Me me me. Just burn me down. Like a beetle-infested tree that, despite it's contagious disease, wants to live. Burn.Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-16577819269151111692010-01-21T18:27:00.000-08:002010-01-21T20:08:17.879-08:00a fail to kiss is a fail to cope<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijogl4dHTlJZO0KwiobyEkSgAcSN3pzbBz8wOGuBO_XnhH90PDewRzXbGOdGrNaUNI-Pxjk1moTqEls70GRykYN7X0zdbKRCtBshdU0PeU3G8keWaza-2okQYscOza6VV7hTaXs78v2k8/s1600-h/locknkey.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijogl4dHTlJZO0KwiobyEkSgAcSN3pzbBz8wOGuBO_XnhH90PDewRzXbGOdGrNaUNI-Pxjk1moTqEls70GRykYN7X0zdbKRCtBshdU0PeU3G8keWaza-2okQYscOza6VV7hTaXs78v2k8/s400/locknkey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429411089860760386" border="0" /></a><br />Somehow, I managed to wake up this morning feeling terrible about everything. I just knew when I opened my eyes: today is going to be painful.<br /><br />I tried to fix it by stuffing myself silly. But, as we all know, that tends to be rather counter productive.<br /><br />I tried to exercise in order to boost morale. I had to stop because everything jiggled; everyone could see.<br /><br />I tried to study and begin to prepare for round 2 of diplomas. My brain shut off and something kept asking, Why bother?<br /><br />I don't know what it was. What the trigger was. I had a really good day yesterday... I did. I ate too much, sure, but I spent time with my lovely, silly friends. Hell, I may have found my grad dress! I spent a very long time (almost 2hrs... haha) indulging my Z. fantasy as we cuddled watching a movie.<br /><br />So why the hell couldn't I do anything today? Why did I spend hours today eating, blasting Fionna Apple, crying, staring at myself in the mirror. Right now all I can think is:<br /><br />No one is ever, ever going to love you. You are never going to get what you want. You're not worth anyone's time. No one is going to think you're good enough. No guy is ever going to look twice at you, or want to deal with you. No one can fix you. No professor or employer or scholarship advisor is ever going to think you are good enough.<br /><br />And, for god's sake I know most of those things aren't true. But some very well could be... I don't know. I guess I don't have anything else to say about this fail of a day. /rhyming.Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-36019575498670403902010-01-20T23:35:00.000-08:002010-01-20T23:44:31.878-08:00Walk, Don't Run<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEierW7edwOFDq4D5daswGp8MveoRVP9_XfpidhS7Or4Q20XzfrSfapORgIP-HrytkmZomV-jztimWix0vkFjAdvguuGx_QvVfRUV7_LA5cA6u64eKtTC47bUnsalWr6iafyA-151hdbhbg/s1600-h/walkdontrun.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEierW7edwOFDq4D5daswGp8MveoRVP9_XfpidhS7Or4Q20XzfrSfapORgIP-HrytkmZomV-jztimWix0vkFjAdvguuGx_QvVfRUV7_LA5cA6u64eKtTC47bUnsalWr6iafyA-151hdbhbg/s400/walkdontrun.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429095461075054402" border="0" /></a><br />This is today's picture. Pretty self explanatory, but I love the colors and the... I don't know, the elementary-ness behind it.<br /><br />So, the title of today's post should really be: "Good intentions smashed by a shopping excursion and too-long photowalk. Day ends in a bloated, over-stuffed, broke Greene cuddling Z. while crying during the black-kid's funeral scene in Across the Universe because it reminded her of her grandfather's funeral a few years earlier (which she attended spitefully and now regrets her attitude towards more than anything else)."<br /><br />Yah.<br /><br />Story of my life.<br /><br />Essentially, excersize (besides walking around and trying on grad dresses for 4hrs) and a 30ish minute walk was minimal. Food was excessive, but OK. Everything I ate (sushi, low-cal green tea frozen yogurt and some kind of thin-crust 6' pizza) I split with someone, so that makes it a little bitty better. I did, however, download TONS of music today - everything from Mary J Blige to Spice Girls to Nat King Cole. I'm in the process of cleaning my room...<br /><br />Yah.<br /><br />Story of my life.<br /><br />Loves. I'm exhausted, so I apologize for the fragmented post. Keep leaving music suggestions... I'll need some for tomorrow for sure!Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8468756644609145485.post-43153114043444689802010-01-19T19:40:00.000-08:002010-01-19T20:20:18.747-08:00Olympia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx-M8-IRoZFPSQXMUDQ1Z7cSVOX3gn1M7xGZEmEe5EgJLgQqsLuhoZr12ckA4rIByE1wCDnFzxbO363D3yTUWkGbAWQaBUA1Si0GZ2L1WbKo2KK3mBRmpho3tBxfa2s-Akt2fp7Vubbgc/s1600-h/14+day+150.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx-M8-IRoZFPSQXMUDQ1Z7cSVOX3gn1M7xGZEmEe5EgJLgQqsLuhoZr12ckA4rIByE1wCDnFzxbO363D3yTUWkGbAWQaBUA1Si0GZ2L1WbKo2KK3mBRmpho3tBxfa2s-Akt2fp7Vubbgc/s400/14+day+150.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428666167113628034" border="0" /></a> Did I forget to mention I was carrying the Olympic Torch? Yah... it was incredible... I think. It went by so fast. I think it will hit me tomorrow. I ran with a team of volunteers through a local community.<br /><br />I woke up feeling fat and ugly. Imagine that. Kept to the regime, though. Unfortunately, I am also confused now because I have been half-convinced to apply-to (and I will get in) to a specialty program at one of Dal's sister universities for my first year. It's more expensive, challenging and exclusive. I'm torn.<br /><br />I'm also exhausted, if you can't tell. More tomorrow. I didn't study today (bad!) but that's excusable. I'm devoting most of tomorrow to it. This picture on top is a cheat - It's one I took yesterday and it was my favorite from the bunch - but I felt the self-portrait was more fitting for the post. I love it because, despite the seat technically being empty... it's almost like the shadows fill the seat (because they disappear at the top). In the bottom corner is my own shadow, or rather, the shadow of a person obviously taking a photo of what seems to be nothing - begging the question: is there something there? Deep, man. Deep.<br /><br />The one on the bottom is one taken today. That is indeed the olympic torch and the wonderful sky.<br /><br />I love you all, and you rock. I'm sorry, I am a terrible, hypocritical person and I am awful at commenting on your blogs, but I always read them!<br /><br />P.S ANA'S GIRL THANK YOU FOR INTRODUCING ME TO 3OH!3. Keep leaving music suggestions lovelies:)<br /><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKFiFV8TbxeqVgQsKyKDsyoCPpfnEPVnyabM9wH7HxfIkhLfn1SiYVggYGGQ_JuIo8uX4L6_3IGqrHMtERHV3WtXpRyMXTJBXt9kVB1n0LsTcUAKPAz6x-GOOXcQ9sfkAutkUVPWeUhOM/s400/Torch+run2010+165.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428666554525225250" border="0" />Greenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585216407327946107noreply@blogger.com3