Wednesday, February 23, 2011
I'm drinking some White Zinfandel out of the bottle. It's after midnight and today was like yesterday. Kind of lame. I was going to start a hook up situation with my ex but changed my mind today when we talked on the phone for the tenth time in two days. I was just sick of all the talking. If we were going to do it we should not make small talk every day because the more you talk the more you know and the more I know the more I like. I don't want to like anyone.
I'm been feeling pretty down on myself lately. Not having a job, the pressure I put on myself but choose not to act on, the pressure from my family, just everything lately has been pulling me down to the ground. I'm sinking in the dirt and not eating and then eating and tonight I'm hating myself for eating some food earlier today, WAY earlier.
I never eat on a regular schedule. I'm calling it "intuitive eating": eating when I feel hungry. Sometimes. Other times, well...you know how it goes.
Everyday I stare in the mirror like a freak. I stare and turn around and suck in and turn back around and clench my buttocks and sometimes I ever take my thigh fat and pull it back, so I can see how I'll look when I starve the fat away.
I watched "Glee" on television tonight...it's a cute show. It makes me smile and I genuinely enjoy the music. Tv is a good source of thinspiration. I can turn on any commercial, any show, or any infomercial and see a thin woman or man speaking back at me, selling me something. Ha. Oh America.
I've been a grump the past few days. Now that I think of it, I was just feeling incredible body anxiety at the idea of getting naked with my ex. The past couple of days (we talked about it for the first time on Saturday) I have been pissed off and eating erratically and just acting foolishly bitchy. Because I feel bad about my body. Because I hate the way I look. Because I'm scared to show anyone my nakedness. How sad.
And so I called it off and now that worry is fading.
I hate myself too much to get naked with a boy who doesn't love me because I fear his judgment and seek his approval. What a nasty, terrible combination of thoughts; I'm out of sorts. I honestly have no idea if I'm fat or thin. I feel so goddamn fat but sometimes I look down at my thighs and think they're shrinking and everyday I see my ribs and hips and collar bones but it doesn't feel satisfying. I feel gross. I feel fat. Since I feel fat, I look fat. I just know it.
Ok, I need to chug this wine and pass out or something before I start describing the way my whole body tenses up when I write about my fatness and self loathing or the way my mouth is chewing itself, side before side, until my jaw aches, forcing me to stop, and I take a drink of water only to feel my teeth get even more sensitive and translucent and painful. The pain doesn't just live in my head and body, it cuts to my bones and through my soul. I hope my soul isn't corroded, I hope my bones aren't turning to dust.
Love and Peace to you all <3