I love to sing. Did you know that? I sing everyday, out loud. To my cat and myself but never the mirror. I sound terrible, mostly. Every once in a great while I will use a softer voice and sound slightly rhythmic. My singing voice is harsh and I wish I could control it better. Story of my life, I wish to control it all.
I have been eating better yesterday and today. I don't understand my body shape. My bones poke through my skin and it hurts, only in certain places though. My rib bones hurt me! Wtf? Is this normal? Here is the weird thing, I am not bony. My stomach protrudes and I am flabby. I don't get it, like today I was happy to feel the pain of the bone poke, but also sort of freaked out. Any clue, world?
I think about cutting constantly. I long to trace a knife along my fragile pale skin and draw red blood. I won't because I am far too vein for scars. But I want to. And I think about it. Every time something goes wrong, or I feel emotional, or sad, mad, broke or threatened. I wish for the pain. I wish for the blood.
I just stood up, not too fast, just regularly, to look in the mirror (mirror-check, body-check, etc.). I had to stop, stand still, and close my heated eyes. Hot blood rushed to my head. Whoa.
I've had 950 calories today. Give or take a few, in light of the news that labels are usually wrong (thanks Africana). I know my body needs about 1200 to "run properly"/for "organ efficiency"/to prevent "starvation mode". . . fuck that shit it's for the birds.
From now on 1000 calories a less, every day. If I go over once or twice than I accept it and move on. No point stressing and increasing cortisol (ie.body fat). I will lose.
Isn't that funny? I'll bet most would want to say, "I will win".
I guess with me it's both, I want both. I want/need/will lose weight. I will win the war I am declaring on fatty, PRESERVATIVE-FILLED junk food.
Fruit and veggies for me, please. Luckily I like them : ) I was eating raw spinach out of the bag!
I am procrastinating insanely.
I need to write a paper, due February 1st. This damn paper has been intimidating me for months. Since the first day of class last semester when I read my syllabus and realized I'd be writing a 10 page paper, on Metaphysics, which is hard as fuck!!
Damnit I just need to do it!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What is wrong with me, I am just sitting here like life is fine, no big worries on the horizon. You'd think I would be concerned just a little with graduation!!!!!!! Like, do I want to graduate from college this year or stay another fucking semester? Heyyyyloooo Sar?
I have ADd.
Feels like it, anyways,
I am so light-headed.
I start a lot of sentences with "I". It's allll about me. Welcome to my blog. I wonder if I am this self-centered in public? I definitely have a tendency to ramble when I have someone's attention for a few minutes. Ugh.
I need a haircut, badly. I have been trying to grow my hair out since I chopped 9 inches off two years ago (!). It is so bad right now though, longish & wavy. I can style it cute, but like now, for example...it looks like crap.
I guess you can say I went from feeling high and poetic to down on myself in the span of this blog post.
Where do I go from here?
Think thin.
<3 Empty is strong.
3 comments:
Some days totally suck! I hope you're feeling a little better now. I am glad you're not cutting, I used to do so really bad and now, even after stopping 3 years ago, I have major scars on my arms and that can get really embarrasing at work. My scars are white now, but I still sometimes quickly turn my arms over if I forget and I notice someone looking. Plus, it is really horrible habit to break, because when you start, it's so hard to stop. Be careful with this one *hugs*
My hair's like a security blanket for me. I always cried when I was forced to cut it when I was young. It's now almost down to my waist and my mum keeps telling me to go get a haircut but I like it the way it is. (:
A 10 page paper on Metaphysics sounds awful. Good luck with it!
I know what you're talking about with the painful bone poke thing. I like it when my boyfriend holds me at night in his bed and I can feel this discomfort...yes, a slight pain...as my ribs dig into his strong muscles and my hips feel sore against the mattress. I'm glad he doesn't dislike it.
Then I look in the mirror and at the scale and I don't understand. My stomach protrudes as well, falling out in front of me as if it is always full of ...something...even when I'm empty. And my ass sags with cellulite and fat and my thighs jiggle when I walk and it's disgusting. Give me a flowy tank top and I'm good: show off the collarbones and shoulders, hide the disgusting filth of fail that falls beneath my shining ribs.
I've never cut before because I'm petrified of knives, but I've thought about it plenty. Speaking as someone who's felt incredibly self-destructive as of late and can identify somewhat with what you're feeling, I'd say to do your best to stay away from anything that will cause you permanent scars, including the cutting. Only my advice (and I'm practically a stranger)...When you reach your goals and you're perfectly thin and lithe and beautiful, your pale, graceful skinny twigs of arms will be gorgeously immaculate and tiny, unflawed and without scars.
I'm rambling. :P I like to read your writing. Thank you for posting, I hope you're well.
Stay lovely, dear. <3
Post a Comment