Legs like these.

I'm not sure how I got to be this crazy. I am seriously psycho.

It's about twenty after four, and I'm smoking my first bowl of the day and listening to sad music. You don't have to tell me, I know: I'm pathetic.

Oh, the self-loathing.

I used to be a happy girl. I was confident, outgoing....temperamental, aggressive. I guess I've always had aspects of me that were way less than perfect.

So I ended up binging last night on cheese and triscuits and candy. My calorie total for the day was through the roof, I refuse to repeat it here.
I did manage to check some things off my list, like the dishes and cleaning the cat litter and bill paying. The easy stuff. I always do the easy stuff. Oh, and I actually studied a little. I waited all day, until one in the morning (I had my test at eight) then started filling out my review sheet. It was too easy, I should have done it during the day, and read at night, and I would be super sure right now that I did good.
Unfortunately that is not the case, but I am sure I passed.

I come on to write about something but rarely get to it.
Today, I had a nervous breakdown. A slight one, if they can be slight. Just cried and yelled a bit, and rammed my head into hard surfaces, and paced angrily.
Why?
Because I want to find another apartment for when my lease ends in August, and I am having no luck. Everyone I call is against pets. I have a cat. Therefore, life sucks. I don't resent him for existing. But there are times, horrible times, when I wish I didn't have him. He is a lot of work and money, and we don't sleep the same hours, but I love him.
I can't/won't get rid of my cat.
Another reason for my breakdown was T. not answering my text. Ouch. I hate that, for some reason. I texted him twice about the book reading we had planned for tonight. We hadn't talked yet today.
Nothing...than more nothing...than denial from 4 or 5 different landlords...than more nothing from T.
Hence the breakdown.

My head hurts.
Needless to say, I called T. almost an hour after I originally texted him. He didn't answer. I sighed in frustration, and felt like killing myself (yes over this dude, I'm a loser).
He called right back.
He wants to go still. I got off the phone real quick, to avoid ...what exactly? To avoid expressing any emotion, I suppose. Then he texted me about smoking before. Well sure, why not. But that is not stopping me from smoking now. And a cig. Then a shower. Then store to get more cigs and meet up with D. for green. Then T. time.

I feel sick. I am either intensely ignoring a bad gut feeling about him, or I am so passionately infatuated with him my brain can't help but torture itself, for a relief from the seratonin drip drip dripping when I think of him.
Ugh.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I must stop asking that, I know what's wrong. I'm fucked in the head. It is a direct result of years of drug experimentation and separation from my family and evil men fucking me over, mainly this guy (jobless, with a child & a serious pill addiction) I lived with for over a year.

Ok sure, my life has not been grand, but I am healthy right? No (diagnosed) terminal illness, all limbs intact, "pretty" by American standards, family, a few friends, cat, blahblah.
I can't be cheery right now.

I will starve the rest of this day, there is no doubt in my mind. I hate food. I hate what it does, it makes me fat. I hate feeling fat, I love feeling thin. I will be thinner. I will not fuck this up. I had one bad night, doesn't mean anything. It maybe helped boost my metabolism. I am ok. I will not be fat anymore. I will be thin. I will be thin. I will be thin!

I will have legs like these. Will you?