Nobody knows what's coming

It's half past noon on Sunday. Me and K. talked on the phone for two hours about nothing, just joking around. Getting in the shower in a minute and then we're meeting up. His appointment didn't go very well the other day, he has a health issue. More on that in a bit.

My head is pounding from the coffee. Just slammed a glass of water. I took one hit off my vape pen. No music is playing, all I hear are the loud but silent jumbled words in the endless stream of consciousness babbling like a brook in my mind. Hence, typing this blog.

My uncle passed away the other day. Heart attack. 65 years old. He had been estranged from our family for years, since my grandma died and he and my aunt got into it over the estate. It's not like there was any money left behind. But people are strange. I didn't feel super sad but my soul recognized another loss to our family. In the last six years I've lost two aunts and now three uncles. 

I went with K to his medical appointment. K. is facing an organ transplant in his near future. Much sooner than we thought.  I found out about my uncle on the way home.

We were both shook by his news and then to get that call, well let's just say that I ended up taking the next day off work and me and K. have both been going through the stages of grief. At first, I was super strong while he was in shock and denial. Then I crumbled and felt waves of sadness about his mortality and how this will affect our future. He was strong for me, reminding me that more tests are needed to determine exact timelines. My sadness grew into optimism, and his strength collapsed into anxiety and hopelessness. Then anxiety hit me hard. We are both reeling. We've been bickering too much. But today feels ok so far. Looking forward to seeing him. We were together Thursday night and Friday night but I had a "me" day yesterday. Didn't do much. But I slept good last night.

It figures, doesn't it? I broke up with my ex for a lot of reasons but the major one was that he didn't want children. K. does. He and I have talked many times about having a family. But if he is facing a major surgery pretty soon it forces us to make some hard decisions. Delay the family? Start it before we even marry? I don't know. Neither does he. We are going to figure it out. Or we won't, and life will be what it becomes.

I'm high. This vape pen is no joke, it's a new one. 

I better get ready. Have a great rest of the weekend!

-S.

Sick and I Quit

It's Monday, after such a fun weekend full of partying, and I'm sick as a dog and no call-no showed at work. I can feel my parent's disappointment in me but I have to do what's right. We all have different ideas of right and wrong and something was telling me to leave my job before I got in too deep. Since I only worked there for a week I will not bother listing it on my resume. I am not too ashamed but it feels lame to be back at square one. After all that. Who knows what's going to happen next.

I haven't heard from C. in a few days, he told me he is currently facing a bout of depression. I've been there, I know the lows. It sucks but I am trying to be understanding. My ex J. just added me again on facebook. We were all hanging out on sat. and apparently his new little relationship isn't going well. I had a feeling he might come crawling back and according to him, he "really likes" me still. I have heard that before but we will see.

I'm not jumping into anything just yet. I need to nurse myself back to good health and ace this interview on wed. I can do it. I will not be brought down. I will follow my intuition. I need some hot tea. My stomach is gloriously empty...liquids only for the day.

XO
Sickly Sar

It's so embarrassing to need someone like I need you

I'm free at last. Tonight was it, no more work. I was super emotional but my attempts at composure surely were noticed.

I'll miss most of them, some of my coworkers were absolutely wonderful. Especially one, a married man, who I'm reluctantly realizing that I had a total emotional affair with.

Christ. What is wrong with me? Over the past year he became my confidant, my buddy. The weird thing is that I was never attracted to his outside appearance. It just felt like we had so much in common, and we both love music, and dig the Flaming Lips, and his wife is a vegetarian so we talk tofurkey, blah blah, etc, etc. I never mentioned him on here, because it really was only a work thing, not sexual in any way.

Saying goodbye to him was an entire day's process. He sat by me and made conversation for hours, resulting in him admitting that he'd miss me. It was awkward, but special in a way. I consider him a coworker turned great friend. I'm just surprised with myself, I guess. I've felt like giving him my email address or something, but I didn't. Of course not. He's married and that's that.

Because I've been down that road. It's not pretty. It leaves ugly scars and forever affects your relationships with everyone. 

In other news, after work, I met up with E. That was...interesting. And that's all I'll say in case he finds this. I told him about it, haha. But the likelihood of him finding it is slim. So let's just say that I want to see him again, even though we live in "different counties".

But distance is distance, and I've been keeping it. From everyone. I've also been argumentative and petty. Tonight I got in two "fights" with two of my closest friends, at different times, regarding completely different circumstances. It was awful.

I'm...awful.

***

~S

Too hot to eat

I'm sitting here melting in this heat. At least being super hot doesn't trigger my appetite. All I've had so far is some cut up watermelon and drinking some coffee now. I bought "Wasted" and started rereading it, for inspiration. I'm about a quarter through. It's like bumping into an old friend, good ol' Marya and her fucked up tale of thin.

I went on a date last weekend and got too drunk. He has been texting me though, so maybe not all is lost. Or maybe he just wants to "fix" me. Or maybe he's just as bored as I am.

I'm holding steady at 136, just in time for period bloat and bitchiness. I wake up every day and my hands make their way to my bones....my hip bones and ribs. I need to stay disciplined, I've been doing ok. Going to bed sort of hungry, waking up and making smart choices, saying no when my brain asks for a binge. It takes work but it's worth it and I know it.

My ex bf J. (the most recent, we broke up a few months ago) is having this huge summer party and invited all of my friends but me. It sucks to be excluded. It's not that I want or expect an invite, it's just reality sinking in that we fucked up our group of friends and caused an internal division that may stick.

I'm annoyed today. It's probably the heat. And my fat thighs - those really annoy me.

Peace, kids.

Summer days

(food for thought--

--sorry, bad pun)

***

Happy tuesday. I'm chillen and smoking, drinking black coffee, listening to Regina Spektor. Looking longingly outside. It is a beautiful day. I have to get ready for work in a bit so I thought this was a great time to post. It's "the week before" aka Stuff My Face week. LOL. I'm aware that my shifting hormones and fluctuating weight are a direct result of mother nature fucking with me, like she does once a month, but that doesn't mean I'm ok or any more accepting of the fact that I'm gaining.

I feel like a cow. The mirror tells me I'm not too bad. The key is to lay off the salty stuff, right? Well let's see, I've been up for an hour and I've already had 1 waffle (90), organic maple syrup (100), 1 english muffin (130), peanut butter (160)... 

I can eat like such a fat ass! Last night I also binged! Ugh...I'll just keep it as low as possible for the rest of the day and week and month and year and my life, really. Thank God for work. It's proving to be a distraction. I hate living at home, but working and making money are steps one and two of Moving The Fuck Out. I'm thinking January 2012. After the holiday madness is over. Yup, that sounds good. I really can't wait. 

It's not that living here at home is bad, per se. It's just unbearably annoying and detrimental to my teetering anxiety levels. It's me having to keep myself contained in this little daughter shell my parents prefer me to be in. 

I want to cook naked, dammit. I want to poop with the door open. I want to decorate every little nook and cranny of my future place with unique-to-me creations and cute things. I want to cast aside my possessions with ease, with no fear of being messy in "someone else's space", with no moral barriers. I want to smoke weed on my couch with my legs sprawled out on the wall and a cup of water balancing precariously on the armrest without worry of "offending" someone. I want to eat dinner at 10 at night, a trashy guilty dinner with 2 large cups of wine, I want to walk around tipsy but free. I want to crave connection on my own terms, it'd be nice to want to reach out and call someone, or invite someone over, or meet up somewhere. But really, most of all, I just want my own space in my own place and my own fucking time.

I'm not sure that I've ever wanted something this bad. It's good to have goals.

My back hurts. I'm high. I slept like shit last night: I fell asleep around 4:30 AM, then was woken by the phone at 10, and then again at 11:30 (damn collectors). I'm feeling zombielike, I like uninterrupted sleep. Maybe I should try to get to bed earlier. It's tough though, I get out of work and I have this second wind, I feel excited to just chill out and relax for a bit.

Ah, well. There's worse things. Like how I'm flirting with my married (and with a child) coworker. We work right next to each other, he's training me on my new position. We talk and laugh and work hard and slack off. Yesterday we were playing a game on my phone for a good hour, some other coworkers crowded around to watch but were dispersed by our supervisor. It was actually a fun end to a monday but I need to watch it with the flirting. It's bad. I'm bad.

Thanks for the kind comments on that last post, I was feeling a little sorry for myself (who me? never!) and it was nice to hear from my gorgeous readers. You really are fucking sexy and I want to do you. Was that too much? Sorry, I've had sex on the brain.

Wanna know why?

I fucked my exboyfriend on sunday.

I know, dumb. 

J. & I dated years ago, when I was 18. We had a volatile but passionate relationship that has faded in intensity over the last 7 years but it's all still there. We just have always kept in contact. Through serious relationships and engagements, through miles and hours, through fire and death, through life and living. We hooked up (met up for sex) tons of times after we broke up originally, but we hadn't had sex in maybe 2-3 years. Until sunday.

*warning; sexual descriptions below

I called him and said, "this is a booty call" and he said, "come over". So I did. We didn't even talk. At all. I've really never experienced anything like this. 

He just let me in, we went in his bedroom and he shut the door and kept the lights off. He walked over to me and we started making out. He didn't waste any time, he immediately walked us over to the bed and lifted me on to it. We tore each other's shirts off, kissing lips and necks and breasts. It gets a little blurry, but I was wearing a skirt and he slid my panties down my legs, spread them, and started to go down on me.

I was quivering but keeping it quiet, as I approached the O I pulled him on to the bed and took off his jeans and boxers. I went down on him very successfully, and then climbed on top and rode him for approximately one minute. No lie. It was quick and sexy, but he's my ex. I used him. 

And I don't think it will happen again. I unfortunately left (lost) an earring there. So I will have to see him again to get it. But that doesn't mean anything will happen. I'll let you know.

Think thin today. I am feeling very thinspired after writing all of this. Think about getting naked in front of someone and you will put down that food. Stay strong.

Xo

sAr

TMI

Oops I did it again, I fell for a jerk and he played with my heart, I'm stronger now and colder than ever, but I'm ok, I'm me, I'm Sar...and no one will ever change that. I own this life, MY life. My shield is intact and surrounding me on all sides, you can't touch me, you won't, I won't let you, I won't let me lose control of the things I can actually control; I, the puppet master, will pull tightly on the strings, ensuring an icy gripe on my reality. I won't turn into a crazy person. I will stay sane because I am not done here. There is stuff I want, things that need to be done and said still, a family to put together, a contribution to the planet, a better body to attain, etc.

As usual, I'm sitting here before work, drinking my coffee, perusing the 'net. The past two days at work have honestly been tough. I have been an emotional wreck; my eyes filling with tears randomly, my mood swings, my recent habit of running to the bathroom to cry. I thought it was because of Matt, and it partly is, but it's more than that.

I have been battling depression (diagnosed with "major depressive disorder") for years. I have been dealing with my ednos issues for years. I have gone through some serious personal tragedys and emerged alive, but so brittle and bitter. I just want to know, when is a break? When can I be normal again? When can I not feel so lost and pain-ridden and alone and nuts?

The answer lies within me. It's up to me to make the choice to get "better" and be more productive. Or whatever it's going to take to be happy with myself.

And that's what it comes down to, that's why I've been so upset, taking this rejection super hard...I am just not happy with myself. Every other day I am angrily hearing in my head, I hate myself. 

WHY, DAMMIT?

Why do I HATE myself? How can I LOVE myself?

I don't even know where to start. So much has gone "wrong" in my life. I had been exposed to deaths in my family at a very young age and it hardened me. My first serious boyfriend, who I lost my virginity to, cheated on me. My next 4 boyfriends were extremely crazy and destructive towards themselves and me. I got in a bad car accident, totaling my first car, the car that I saved money for all by myself, after starting work at the age of 15. I became afraid. My fears started to dictate my decisions. 

I failed some classes at the community college I started at, eventually taking an extra year there, which pelted hail at my self esteem (you're so stupid).  I gave in and started smoking cigarettes again after nearly 2 years without, after proudly quitting cold turkey. I moved away from everything I've ever known and started at the state university, all alone, "free" for the first time in a long time. I partied too much. I ate like shit. I began puking up my food because I felt fat and I lived alone so there was no one to hide it from. I dealt with so much drama and ridiculousness in college, and then the cherry on the cake of reality came when I was relaxing in my apartment one night; some dumb bitch "accidentely" lit her bed on fire, and my entire life disappeared in a pile of ashes. 

I became even more afraid and started focusing on losing weight. I lost weight, then regained, then lost a bit, and now I'm here, getting rejected by man after man, driving a beat ass car, working at a job that I'm overqualified for, in a city I don't want to be in, surrounded by people that don't really know me, and trying like hell not to lose my way.

Jesus. If you read all that, then yay! You're cool.

I guess I just had to purge some words.

Gotta get ready for work. Think thin.

Peace.

XO

~Sar

Ocean breathes salty

by Modest Mouse is a great song. There's a line, "you wasted life, why wouldn't you waste death?" that describes the person I do NOT want to be. I will not waste life. Not one moment, if possible. I need to live like I'm free, which I am. Free and independent, blessed yet jaded. Which brings me to this week. Ugh, what a week it's been. I always thought my period week was the worst but I've changed my mind. It's the week after. The week after is when my hormones are on the move and I feel it!

I actually cried the other night. I never cry. J. and I were up until three in the morning going back and forth about why we shouldn't be together and emotions and just a whole bunch of stuff. As you can see, things aren't quite done between us. We're "friends" but there is something fishy going on. My intuition understands why he's holding back. He's not the only one, I'm holding back as well. Neither of us want a relationship but there is just this undeniable connection there. It's sad, really. And confusing.

It is six in the evening and I've ate one apple today. I'm really hungry! The idea of eating sickens me though, because I binged on Sunday & Monday. I know, I know. Terrible. The one and only good thing about binging (at least for me) is that I always manage to completely gross myself out. It's just...wrong. How much I can eat, that is. There is no stopping when "full". What the fuck is full? I eat until I hate myself. Then, I starve myself until I'm shaking and my head is pounding and I can't think straight and my stomach loudly growls, protesting it all.

The truth is, I can't fucking eat right. Even when I TRY. I buy healthy food and ignore it. I buy shitty junk food when I crave it and eat it until I decide I'll never eat it again, I'm so sick of it. Who eats until they hate food? Freaks like me and you, I guess. Ok. We're not freaks, we're products of society. My society bombards me with mouth-watering advertisements, drive thrus, vending machines, fast food, slow food, bad food, badder food, food, food, FOOD EVERYWHERE and it's really hard to deny the fact that we eat! We. Eat.

We have to eat and if we don't we die. I hate that about us, me, whoever. I hate food. Hate it. I hate food and I hate life when I eat. I hate life when I don't eat. I can't win.

I don't want to need anyone or anything.

I bought a winter coat today. Size *small*. It was originally $250, and I got it marked down for $111. Not bad! It's black, with buttons and it's trench style - very trendy. And warm. I like it. It's sophisticated.

Am I though? Am I this sleek sophisticate? I think not. I am a stoner slacker who blogs about food. LOL. My life is a joke.

In my lowly defense, I am into fashion. I love fashion magazines and make serious attempts at dressing well. That was one thing kinda good about the fire. I had to buy all new clothes, so of course right away I bought a bunch of cheap shit just to wear, but over the summer and this fall I've managed to get a couple cute things.

Sometimes all I can do is smoke a bowl and try not to hate myself so extremely. I'm at a point where, if something goes wrong, I literally yell at myself. I say, "you stupid idiot, dumbass, wow you're so fucking STUPID, goddamn you, die, you fucking cunt". Why Sar? Why am I doing this to me? It's so...hurtful. When I'm like that, it's not just words, I want to do something, I want to kill myself. I want to be dead during those moments.

But then, a few minutes pass, and I forget.My mind goes elsewhere, and then I remember later on, like now when I just recalled doing that earlier today. I just get so mad at myself. So critical. I want so badly to be perfect. I know this. I won't ever be though, and I have to constantly remind myself that no one is perfect and I am doing the best I can.

Wow, my head is killing me right now. Could be the smoke, could be the hunger, most likely it is just this stress I feel inside. I am stressed about EVERYTHING. I smoke to chill out but it doesn't always chill me out. The only thing that is going to work here will be me getting some shit done.

Thanks for the nice comments on my last post. I was really quite hurt by the whole ordeal, but J. apologized, and I'm thinking there's a good chance he made the whole thing up to "get back at me" for whatever I did on Sunday, which wasn't much, just me being my peculiar self and antagonizing a little. Either way, things with him are really weird. I am trying to forget about him, but he won't let me. We work together next Wednesday. Yay. And then he's supposedly leaving town to "pursue his dreams".

You know what I think? Every day is a chance to pursue dreams. It's not this thing in the future that you "do". It's now, it's preparation and perseverance. It's thinking and reflecting and making decisions. Life is what we make of it EVERY DAY. Because tomorrow is not guaranteed.

Stay strong, all. Peace out.

Think thin*

:)

xo~Sar

Hot mess

Life is flying by, so tonight I am purposely taking a risk and a chance. I am not doing my project proposal right now, I'm going to do it tomorrow because tonight is my night. I'm going to go out with J. and that's that. I already ate some food and then puked some up because my stomach just didn't want it. My body is weird and volatile, my brain is a shark in the waves, eating up everything and anything.

I am a loner, and I am scared. I need interaction, I need to be around some people. Today was such a long day. My back aches and I'm just so beat. It's almost 11 at night. I am meeting J. later, after midnight. 

I can't make this post make sense. I'm not thinking, I'm just feeling. I need a massage. I need to do the dishes. I need to move, I'll never live in a "lower" again. I HATE hearing footsteps overhead. Hate it, hate it, hate it... I'm terrified the roof is just going to fucking cave in.

So much work for my classes. OhLord please help me pass everything. I cannot wait to be done with college. Three months from now is January 14th. Where will I be then?

Where am I now?

Sar's not home, try again lata.

I think I'm a crazy cat lady pot addicted boy crazy freaky creep.

Fuck.

Ok. So someone asked about my feelings towards J. Well that's just me. I go back and forth with every damn thing. But Idk, last night I just started feeling really turned on when I thought about him. I'm not going to write him off just yet. I want to test the waters a little. His eyes. His lips. His height. 

His heart, his soul, his mind.

Me oh my oh my oh me.

I'm stoned. You guys, I have a problem. I smoke far too much marijuana. It's like my best friend or something. I am losingGgGg it.

J/k. I got this.

I think I'm getting sick, oh wait, maybe it's just my period. My fucking ankle still hurts but I walk on it every day. Never sprain your ankle, peeps...it blows.

My chest hurts from the throwing up.

I'm lonely, and I just want to feel sure about something.

[think thin]

Anxiety.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, I'm moving tomorrow. I've been waiting all summer for this and I'm as nervous as can be. Therefore I'm sitting here listening to music, drinking coffee, and smoking a peace pipe. My stomach is in knots. I even had breakfast because I felt so anxious; I made scrambled eggs (2) with some mozzarella & 1 slice of whole wheat bread on the side. I didn't even toast it, I just wanted my nervous stomach to go away.
Well it didn't, and now I am also regretting eating and wanting to puke but not wanting to puke so I'll just sit here and write a little, instead.
I have so much to do. I have so much to organize and pack. I can do this, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this, can I do this? Can I do this? can I do this? Can I do this?
I think so, yes.

In other news, I hung with A. last night :) I dressed up; I wore a strapless blue summer dress with a black short sleeve cover up over it, tied in a loose knot. I also wore flip flops. Haha, it makes me laugh thinking about it - because we ended up taking a hike down through a gorge. I got hot and sweaty, but it was exhilarating. He extended his hand a few times, and brought us both a water. He planned for this, I did not; I only planned on looking pretty.

Lol right?

It was actually really cool. I was a trooper. (Plus it was great exercise). It was a nice night and it gave us both a chance to see how the other handled themselves in such a situation. He is kind and attractive. He is not the best listener in the world, but I can tell he tries. We talk about superficial things, for the most part, but last night he said he wanted to talk about things "that matter" like "life plans".

Whoa.

I have no life plans, really, okay that's a lie. I plan to finish college by December. I plan to work my job until then. I plan to seek a job where I move after I graduate. I plan to be happy and thin! So there! I do have plans.

Ugh, I don't know though. We kissed goodbye, he picked me up and dropped me off in his new jeep. He stays on my mind. There is just something holding me back. It's not T. to my dismay. It's me.
It's me me me me me me me and only me.

I'm my own worst enemy. I sabotage my happiness and feelings of accomplishment. I do this because it is what I know, and I think I may be a tad scared of success. Strange, huh?
Who is scared of success? It's not even that I think I'm so great ... I just worry about it? I worry how I'll handle it? I worry that I'd mess it up.

If I apply these worries to A. and I's imminent relationship, then what? More hurt? I can't deal with that. I am not ready to be hurting again.
I mean, everyone hurts every day, in some way. For me, it is always lurking under the surface - this sadness, worthlessness, fear, anxiety, pressure, pain, poison. I usually don't let it bubble over and ruin me. I usually keep shit in. I don't want this/me to be exposed. It'd be salt to my wound; it would be flesh being ripped off.

These are the things I think about: the pain I may or may not but most likely will be feeling down the road.

Oh Sar...

I haven't taken a hit in awhile, let me clear my head.

[I'm moving out of my parent's house tomorrow into my own place. I will be solitary again. Not completely, I'll be with cat. *I can do this*]

move, work, school, stop thinking stop thinking stop it stop this now.

I just want to live in the present.
Tonight I will be with A. again, and then when he goes to work it'll be a final (for now) rendezvous with my best friend.
And that's tonight ... how about I concern myself with now? Like all the packing!
Alright friends, this is goodbye. For now.

Think thin today. I ate breakfast but that's going to have to be it. I plan to conveniently leave when my family is eating dinner. I hate food. Food sucks.

xo.

Tonight's truth.

BBQ chips are beyond gross and I indulged tonight. I ate about three servings (1 serving is 15 chips/150 cal) So that's about 450 disgusting calories too much. At a bar I drank two tall vodka-sodas and ingested probably 400 liguid calories, unnecessary drinking is fucking stupid, why did I suggest that?

I dated a guy once who lived in another state. Basically across the country, but, we tried it. I went there. He came here. Whatever, it was five years ago. I was 18.

I got a text from him tonight. His number wasn't even in my phone, but he was in town. Did I want to see him?
I looked down and felt too fat to go.

So I ignored his text for 40 minutes and took a quick nap. I opened my eyes, reached for my phone, and texted him back.
"Let's meet for a drink."   (a drink? MISTAKE. b/c drinks make me FAT)
And so we did. It was interesting. Five years is a LONG time, and you guys know a little about my life. It's been nuts for years. My early twenties have been volatile. Needless to say, we filled each other in, as best we could given the circumstances (time being of the essence; he leaves at the crack of dawn). I enjoyed myself, he paid for the drinks. He is doing good. He is a pilot...he owns a small plane, and lives in an airplane hangar.

WTF.

That is so, unbelievably...hot.



Five years and his face is the same. He has the beginnings of an accent (he's lived out there for 6 years) and he is still exactly my same height.
That's the weirdest, worst? thing.
I like my men tall.

He is my height. And yet, when we were sitting and standing it didn't bother me. It didn't feel any different when we hugged...it was like hugging a girlfriend, just really up close and personal.
He is very handsome.

Just...short. It sucks that I care.
Oh shit, what am I even thinking. He is leaving in six hours.

It was good to see him.

Very good.

____________


On the other hand,

I am a fat pig for binging on those bbq chips when I got home from the bar. It's just that the lonesomeness started rising. Up and up until I'm reaching for food. It surrounds me, it glows puke green and my eyes glaze and the haze all over makes it easier to hide my grazing, for I am truly a cow in a pasture, feasting on filth before the butcher.

Gross.

I feel gross.
Thinspo0:

Think thin*