It's incredibly easy to push people away. Just be yourself, don't hold back. Say whatever you want whenever you want and watch them walk away and shut the door with a heavy echo across the way. I'm too blunt for my own good, which is funny because I rarely smoke blunts, I prefer bowls. Less coughing, less ash.
Tonight I'm going to an outdoor party; there will be friends, food, and fun to be had. I'm baking something and bringing it. I'm going to arrive at that perfect after-dinner time so the pressure to eat will be less. There will be a keg, and I plan to get drunk. I'm excited, in that hollow, heartless way of the Depressed.
I'm not sure why I hate men so much. Because that's what's going on here. I hate them. I hate who I am in front of an attractive male. I act like my shadow, an amalgam of me. I can't be attracted to a single, emotionally-available man ever, it's always the ones who don't want me, the ones who can't have me due to marriage or relationship restrictions or a low mental capacity.
When did dating begin to press upon me so much? I used to be confident. I used to be nice.
Now I'm bitter and bold and insecure and dependent on attention.
I do not trust the scale. One of the worst things about being tall is that the number on the scale does not accurately rate other's perception of my thinness. My own perception is totally skewed and the fucking number is driving me batty. It's wrong, it has to be. How is it possible that I feel thin when that number is so large? Something is not right here. I'm mad, stark-raving radiant.
I binged last night on some chocolate. I feel it all in my stomach, sitting there still. I've been constipated for about 3 weeks. I gave in and took laxies a week and a half ago or something, and they helped, briefly. It is HORRIBLE to know that I have to go and to want to go but to not be able. It's a devil in me, I'm possessed.
While listening to Amy Winehouse (RIP) and hiding in my room, I feel tired and restless. I want to go shopping. I'm trying to convince myself to get up and shower and get in the car and go shopping, like a normal person. I have some money, I should buy myself shoes and knee socks, sweaters, black pants and tights. I would like to have these things for Fall.
I'm still rebuilding my wardrobe, 1.3 years later (Fire). I'm still breaking down about it, as recently as Wednesday. I'm moving on, slowly, but there's no time limit for grief.
OK. I need to get out of here and on with things. It's going to be a good day, despite my somber mood and morning.
Today: 2 cups of water with ice, some cut up watermelon, some organic pretzels.
*Avoiding food for now*