4 days

Today was a good day, for the most part.
My dad got pissed off because we didn't do anything yesterday.
But we didn't do anything because he didn't want to go anywhere. Why? Because he was pissed at me.
I feel like I'm walking on eggshells with him. He'll say something, and I'll agree. It's the wrong answer and he laughs at me for it. If I disagree, it's still the wrong answer, and he gets pissed at me.
I give up.
I'm gonna go sit on a deck with my headphones and music, and ignore him. I need my sanity.

We went to a volcano, an active one. It was amazing. You could see the lava boiling up, and we got to walk in part of the crater. Turns out, there's like 15 volcanoes on this island... Holy shit.
We also saw where the lava was flowing into the ocean.. It was so cool.
I took lots of pics, but I can't upload them. Stupid people.

I'm basically counting the days till I go home.
I've decided that I start my 5 day liquid fast on Monday, February 4th. That is when we fly out of here, and I get back Tuesday. Then the rest of the week should be pretty easy to fast. I'm hoping I'll drop a little bit of weight, because I've been eating so much here, I hope it's kicked my metabolism up.

I don't even want to get into my family, and what they're doing. Basically, shit.
I feel calmer now that it's close to the end of my time here, and I know that I'll be getting away from my dad soon. Less anxious.
But also, I talked to some people last night, and some things were made clear. Not in a bad way, and it's too long to explain, at least right now. But now I know where I stand with some people. I'd rather that then just not know.

I know that I'm gonna have shit to pay when I get home. I know already that as soon as I set foot in my house, and I'm out of sight of everyone, I'm gonna be SH a lot. I know that. But I'm not telling anyone, really. I don't want anyone to stop me. It'll basically be a release of all the energy that I've been bottling up while here. Which I guess will be a good thing. Though not in a good way.

I hope everyone is doing well, I've been trying to keep up with reading blogs.
Anyways, time to go listen to my tunes. :D
Xxxx

Randomness?!!?

Today has been A LOT better.
We didn't even do much.
We drove around the island, as this was our first day on the big island.
The whole island is built on lava.
The volcano here, erupted thousand of years ago, and they built the whole thing on the lava.
It's amazing.
I took some pictures, most were on my camera.
Bleh.
I took a few on my phone, I don't know how good they turned out.but I'll post them anyways.

6 more days here!!
It's getting better, not that it was ever bad.
I have had a good time, it just doesn't sound like it here..
I apologize for that.

I'll post all the pictures when I get home, and then you all can see what an amazing time I've had. :D

I'll post some of the pics from last time when I was in Maui.

Every day I spend here, I never want to leave. It is always warm, and it's rained a few of the days we've been here. I love it!!!

RAIN FOREVER <3

Also, while I'm being random here....
There's this kid on YouTube. His name is Sam Tsui. He does videos, singing. I am in love with him. His voice is amazing. D:
Check out this video here...
Bet you'll agree with me. [;

Also, here's the pictures of what I've taken from Hawaii.

Here's one of their cop cars... :D (Maui)

Here is the lava from the volcano (The Big Island)

Here's a beach in Maui

More lava rock! (:

Anxietyanxietyanxiety

So... I'm 5'8, and I'm 16. My birthday is next month, so 17.

I've looked around at a lot of websites and books...
And it's shown that if I gain 11 lbs... I will be considered obese.
11 lbs... Not too hard.
I'm so fucking scared to reach that.

I have been eating so much since I've been on vacation.
I can't say no, my dad has already looked at me funny when he caught me doing jumping jacks in my room.

I know I've reached 196.
I'm fucked,

And I have SO much anxiety.
I want to die.
I always do.
This time though, it seems more realistic.
I have the feeling I might try again before the end of this vacation.
Sure, it's the cowards way out.
But I don't fucking care.
I can't do this.
I'm falling apart...........

Fuckfuckfuckfuck.


I can't even sit here and write out what I'm feeling...
I need to move.
To go.
I need to do something.
Anything.
God dammit.
I fucking hate me.
I'm pathetic.

Even old ladies say it.

Some old lady at the beach called me fat. I was sitting there, in the sun, listening to my music, and she came up to me and stared talking.
After not even a minute, she told me that I needed to start exercising, because being fat is no good.
The fuck.
Like I don't know that....

Basically, I got pissed off, after she commented on some other things.

When my dad came out later, he asked what was wrong.
I told him that a lady called me fat, and he said that she was a grandmother, it's what they do.
Fuck that.

Then I told him that he said the same things, so what's his excuse?
He just said that he's my dad and he's allowed to do that.
Whatever.

The only good thing out of this, is that I got a lot of pretty pictures of the beach, and that I got a tan. :D
I would upload them, but I can't since the cord to my camera was in my dads duffle bag. Which got stolen when people broke into our house.

11 more days.
I can do this.
I love the heat here.
The warm, the sunshine.
Getting a tan.

I'm just going to have to enjoy it, and not try to let this bother me.
I have 11 days left.
I can do this.
I wish I could upload my photos, but I can't get another cord until I get home.
Oh well.
Today wasn't entirely a bad day, I just had to get that out of my system.

Just want to die

I know I've gained.
I know it.

It's unavoidable.
But I can't even look at myself in the mirror, and when I sit down, I want to die.
My stomach sticks out so much.
It's horrifying.

I want to die.
I know it's the "Coward's way out" but I can't do this..
I SH tonight. It wasn't the first time today either. Earlier, I was upset over something my dad said, so I beat my knuckle on the car until it was swollen and bruised.
I'm supposed to be on vacation. I shouldn't be doing this.
But I don't know what else to do.

We leave to go to the big island on Monday..
I am so terrified that I won't last that long.
I can't stand this..

Fuck me.
I just want to die.
I don't care how.
The more pain the better.
I just can't get these suicidal thoughts out of my head...

5 days down, 11 more to go. FUCK.

I am the single worst person on the planet.
I'm fat.
I'm not smart enough.
I'm selfish.
Whiny.
I'm useless.
I'm not worth it.

Fuck me.
Fuck me.
Fuck me.
FUCK ME.

I'm not even gonna say anymore.
I've already said too much.
I want to delete this blog.
All it is is bullshit.
I don't want to be in Hawai'i. Yet I want to be here forever.
Fuck this.
It's a paradox.

To much to wish for?

I've realized something.

I like to argue.
Maybe i'm living in a fairytale, but I want someone to fight for me.
I want someone to fight for me to get healthy.
Someone to care.
Someone to hold me accountable,
Someone to know my bad habits and to try to help.

Does that even make sense?
It isn't coming out right, what I want.

I want to know that someone cares about me enough to not give up.
I feel like I try to fight for everyone I care about.

For example: (This is taken from a blog I found, but I won't post the name, for anonymity.)
Here is the excerpt from the post.

"He found some cuts. I moved away when I felt his hand go to my hip, but I had turned all the lights off so he couldn't see, and I figured they wouldn't be felt too much...I guess? I don't know. I was stupid. So suddenly, he asks, "What's that?" and pulls away from kissing me. It's one of those moments when you realize something awful is happening, and you'd give anything to go back, go back just two seconds, but you can't, and you are talking and lying and saying dumb things but really, you're pulling away from your body and feeling the time passing and sinking into a terrible blackness.

Obviously, he didn't believe me. He sat up and just stared at me, so shocked. And what could I say? That the two parallel cuts on my waist were an accident? He knew.
He looked so hurt and disappointed. I told him it was a momentary relapse, that I'm just dumb and I don't know.
How can I explain it? He wanted me to tell him why cutting my body helps. I can't. I don't know why. I have all this pain inside that can't be explained, it doesn't belong to any words, it's just there, and it eats at me and suffocates me while I pretend it doesn't exist. When I cut, it makes pain real, and I can deal with it because it's a physical, bleeding thing. I like to have cuts so I can rub them and scrape them when I start feeling like I am floating away, because it brings me to the ground. But I can't say that. No one understands.

He told me to show him what I used, and I cried harder. I said I couldn't, I can't talk about it like that. Don't make me tell you what I used. Don't make me tell you when. Don't make this real. Talking makes it real I can't talk about it.

He said I needed a therapist, that there was obviously something much deeper here. I told him that I wasn't getting worse, I was getting better....I cut every day before we were dating. Now, just once. He looked right at my eyes and said, "Once, only once, since we've been married?" and my body went cold. No, not once, many many times, many places, many ways, many nights silently crying and wishing my heart would stop, but I couldn't say that, so I just said nothing, and he said he knew I had new scars. He said I had severe depression, I needed to talk to someone, he couldn't fix me alone. He said that I have all the symptoms, and that I use alcohol to make myself feel better, which is dangerous. He said so many terrifying things that are oh, so true.

But I can't. It was like watching a movie. I begged, I pleaded, I cried, I said stupid, dumb, promising things that we both know are lies so that the moment would end. Just end. I was watching myself be that person...the addict, the anorexic, the alcoholic, the thief....that person in all the shows and movies that you think, 'Just give up already, you are making a fool of yourself." But I can't

So I told him I would stop. I said I didn't realize what it did to him, and I was so sorry, and I will never do it again. I said it wasn't worth this happening again, I hated it, and I would just stop. I told him I would be okay, I'd talk to him, I wouldn't hurt myself. And all the time I know that I can't stop. I can't imagine life without hurting myself. Typing this, and all I want to do is cut. I was sitting there....in front of him...telling him these things and thinking of things I could do that aren't visible. Pulling hair...pinching....bruises, because I don't think he'll suspect that...."

Someone to care... like that.
I guess.
Someone to hold me, or give me a hug, or just look at me and know...  But not try to be the one to fix everything.

Whenever someone cares, I argue. I justify why I should do it, why I have to do  it. Why I have to starve, and self harm.
And just like that, they give up. I don't feel like anyone really wants to fight for me, but why should they?
I'm not worth their time.

Please, please tell me. Is what I want to much to wish for?
Am I being unrealistic?
Because I want this, but I don't want to stop self harming. It is a release for me. Like the excerpt above says. It's a way to make the unbearable pain inside real.
I don't want to stop, but I want someone to care.
It isn't for attention, I don't want attention.
I just want to disappear.
To go away.
If I can't disappear, I want to live on my own, away from everyone.
Just by myself.
Where I can't be hurt by anyone but myself.

I have found my motivation.
My motivation to fast, to starve, to go to bed and wake up hungry.
To feel light,
And free.
To know that I am doing something.
My motivation to be skinny,
and in control.

I have found my revulsion for myself again,
My strong need to cut.
Once I get back home, into winter,
And I no longer have to wear shorts,
I know my legs will go back to being covered in cuts.
And probably my stomach too.

So far, my dad hasn't noticed the scars on my shoulder. There are 12 perfectly straight ish lines on my left shoulder, and a little farther down, there's 16 more. There is also the word "fat" on my arm.
I think it's funny that if I look at my shoulder, I can see the scars bright as day.
But when I look in the mirror, you can't see them.
I wonder if they'll fade before Cimiron gets here. They should.
What about the new ones I know I'm going to make?

Never mind, I don't want to talk about him.
I'm pissed off, but I don't know why.
I thought I could write it out, but the words won't come.
So again, I'll say nothing.

I don't want to burden people anymore.
I don't want to cry.
I don't want to want to cut every time my dad says something to me.
He is continuously making comments.
Strengthening my resolve to starve when I get home.
I won't forget these comments.
I still remember the ones from 3 years ago.

I feel like if I want to be happy, I have to stop being soo negative.
Simple as that.
Only it's not.
Here, I don't feel like I have to fake smiling, fake happy.
Fake okay.

Everywhere else, with everyone, I do.
I want someone else to tell me things I think about myself.
Someone else to validate what I'm thinking inside.
But I don't even want to write it.
I'm so tired right now.
But I'm afraid to sleep.

I haven't been sleeping well lately. Or I sleep, but not restful sleeping.
I feel like because I am in Hawaii, I'm supposed to be happy, and having a good time.
And while I'm out, doing things, I am. I'm having a good time.
But all too soon it's over, and I'm left inside my head.
A dangerous place to be.
And once I'm in, I can't get out.
I can't escape.

I finished all my homework, what I could anyways.
So no more of that.
I read my book, so nothing there.
I got stung by a jellyfish.
Just my luck, huh?
I didn't mind though.

I want to punch and kick and cut.
I want to break the mirror, while I stare at someone that can't be me,
I want to be normal/
I want to be so skinny, people stare at me.
On a good day, if I suck in my stomach just a little bit, you can see my ribs.
Normally this would mean progress,
But I'm still so fat.
I haven't lost any weight,
And that makes me sink farther and farther into
this shit hole.
The one that I feel like I'm drowning in.

But I always am, aren't I?

I want to delete this blog.
Because all it is is my complaints.
My whining.
I'm so pathetic by putting it out there.
I don't deserve it.
Nobody should be reading this.
Why do you read it anyways?
What makes you want to?
I seriously am curious.

I guess at one time or another, I will have to sleep.
It's 11:30pm here in Hawaii, but in Colorado, it's 2:30.
I wish I could.... I don't know.
So many things I wish.

It's only my second or third day here.
I'm too tired to remember.
Why can't I just be happy?
Enjoy it?
I feel like such an attention seeker.
But writing here, it's the only place I can let that pain out.
So that it doesn't eat me alive.
I've eaten so much since coming here.
And I'm so bloated.
Again, my mind returns to my dads comments.
Ana + my dad.
The perfect combination.
I wonder how I'm still alive.

I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.
2  weeks is wayy too long.
I'll break wayy before then.
If I haven't already.

I don't even make any sense.
I feel high, because I'm so tired.
I really should sleep.
It sounds nice in practice.
But in reality, no.
So I'll suck it up, and go sit on my bed listening to artists sing about how I feel,
With words in such a way that I could never speak.
They're almost poetic.
I tried once...


It failed.

Guess it isn't meant for everyone.

Just turn your back and walk away with a smile

Today's been a better day.
In some ways.

In other's, it's been worse.

We were at the beach earlier, and I wanted to swim. When I came back to where my dad was sitting, he looked at me and told me that I should have gotten a bigger swimming suit.
Maybe this was a harmless comment, but I took it as a detrimental one. That I was fat, that it was too small, that I was horrid.
Because the fact of the matter?
In the top sizes they had in the store, I got the biggest one.
The biggest they had.
And it still doesn't fit?
What the fuck.
Proving my grotesqueness once again.
I wanted to say something to him.
Something mean.
Instead, I turned my back and walked away.

I didn't let it bother me.
When anyone else says something like that, I just ignore them.
Who are they to me?
Their words really mean nothing.
When my dad or someone in my family says it, all fucking hell breaks loose.

We drove around a bit too, but mostly took it easy.
I got some work from school done (Even on a holiday, I can't take a break! haha xD).
Though it's amazing here, and so pretty, it's kinda nice to take it easy too.
I don't really have much else to say, I'm sorry this post turned negative/rant-like.
I do that a lot.

Hawai'i

So I spent most of yesterday flying on airplanes.
We flew from Denver, to Sacramento, California.
Then from Sacramento to Los Angeles, California.
Then from Los Angeles, to Maui, Hawai'i.

LA isn't what everyone makes it out to be. I much preferred Sacramento. Maybe it's just me.
Hawai'i is beautiful.
I almost cried when I got here, just because I thought about how I would have to leave, and I never want to.
But at the same time, I got really suicidal knowing that I wouldn't have my razor blade or my laxatives, and that I wouldn't have any control over my food intake. But I also love trying the Hawaiian food here. It's so culture rich. I have fallen in love with Fried Pineapple. So bad for you, but I guess I won't be eating it once I leave.
I've made a deal with myself, which I think is why I'm not jumping off of any cliffs yet.
I am allowed to eat only at mealtimes, and I can eat anything I want. Within reason, of course.
When I get back to Colorado, on Feb 6th, I am doing a 5 day liquid fast. I don't give a fuck if I have to say that I have some deadly disease, I AM NOT EATING.
Simple as that.
Eating this much should boost my metabolism anyways. So I guess it could be worse.

It is helping, a bit. Not as much as I need it to.
This is the first vacation I've taken where Ana has really been a part of my life.
I can't say I hate it. I like that she's helping me keep in control.
Without her, I'd be even fatter.

In about 2 hours from now, we're going to get a swimming suit. We couldn't find one while I was in Colorado, because it was the middle of winter. So we're getting one here. I am more or less freaking out. I've only eaten once today, and it was grilled chicken with lettuce, onions, and some french fries. Not too bad, but bad. I can't worry though.

My dad has started up with the comments again....
Earlier today, we were walking around, and he told me to suck in my stomach. I didn't dare ask why.. I was already burning with humiliation.
I really and truly hate him.
A hate that I don't think I can ever forgive.
Sure, i'm happy and greatful that he took me on this vacation, but I hate him.
Even here, I won't be free.
I never am.

Just thinking about that comment he made, I want to cry.
I want to cut, take laxatives, and find some god damn way to purge. I don't even fucking know why I can't.
I feel like i'm losing any sanity I had,
This vacation was supposed to give me a breath from the suffocation I was feeling at home.
The helplessness.
The suicidal thoughts.
Instead, they've only come with me.

How dare I think that my dad had changed?
He has been joking with me, laughing, being kind.
Is it all some kind of sick joke?
Or is he really just that fucking naive?

I'm so hurt by that comment he made... I can't even describe it.
I've never ever felt a hatred like this before.
13 months.
13 months.
386 days.
I can do this.
I have to.

To make it even worse, I can't talk to Cimiron. I was 2 hours behind him when I was in Colorado, and now i'm 5. Which if you think about it, is kinda a big time difference. So I guess I will just have to talk to him when I get back. Unless it's through Facebook. 2 weeks.... That's a long ass time. Ugh. Somtimes, it seems so easy to lose him. To just say "This isn't working" and BAM! There's nothing I can do. #Long Distance Relationship Problems.
LOL

Anyways, enough of my complaints.
I'm just gonna shove them away, and enjoy my time here.
2 weeks.
Nowhere near long enough, and nowhere near short enough.
^ story of my life.
Haha

Here's a photo that I took. It isn't great. My phone has a shitty camera. But i'll upload the ones off my camera later, and try to get the rest off my phone.
Time to go fit my fat ass into a swimming suit and go to the beach! And get a tan! (:

Blog link!

I realized that I had never posted the link to my new blog...
So here it is!
http://finding-my-way-to-happiness.blogspot.com/

I have only posted once there, but once I get back from vacation, I will for sure post more!! (: So don't give up on me yet!

No Sense.

Woke up this morning, thinking about what I had to do today.
And immediately I wanted to get back into bed.

It isn't even that bad.
The main thing that is giving me anxiety is that I have to go get a swimming suit. The one I had from last summer doesn't fit me in the chest area anymore (because I got fatter) and so I can't wear it. Nevermind that it's gonna be so hard to find a swimming suit in the middle of winter, but I don't even want to look at myself. I know that I won't like my body in the swimming suit, but there used to be a point where I could barely tolerate it. Just a bit. Just enough. I don't know if I have that anymore.

I don't want to go.

I have so much to do before tomorrow, we leave at 9am.
Ugh.
So I best be going to get on that, eh?
Today is going to be a good day, despite my anxiety levels!

I wanted to post some pics from when we were last in Hawaii, but my computer isn't letting me. So I'll probably do it later. (:

New Blog!

I made a new blog.
Here on blogger. It was originally gonna be on WordPress, but my computer doesn't like WordPress, for some reason.
And I really like Blogger, so I made it here instead. (:

It is just going to be my journey to rediscovering myself, what makes me happy. It is completely un-ED related, and hopefully, it'll be a place that I can go to when I need to smile or laugh. A happy place. I still intend to write here, of course. Maybe I'm a bit obsessed. (:

Feel free to follow, and contribute, if you'd like. If you don't want to, no worries. I just thought I'd mention it here, in case anyone wanted to check it out.

Optimism?

I think my perspective on things is starting to change. I'm feeling optimistic, and while that is probably just my excitement over going on vacation in 2 days talking, I hope it sticks around for a while.
There is a downside, I am so bloated, I swear I've gained like 5 lbs. Probably more. I have insane cramps, and I would take some Ibuprofen to help, but that requires eating first, and to that I say hell no.
It's getting easier and easier to just not eat. Especially when I can't even stand to touch myself. Like let my hand brush my leg, or go anywhere without wearing my giant baggy hoodie. I pretty much live in that thing, because I can't stand to see myself without it.
I suppose this should only last a week though, and if I don't eat, by the time I'm not bloated anymore, I'll be even skinnier! So I guess it's a good thing??

Today isn't gonna be interesting for me. I'll probably just clean my room, maybe do some homework, and listen to music once I get back from doing my errands. I have to walk like 12 miles, no joke. Just because I lost my bus pass. -_- But yay for exercise!!!

I'm such an exciting person. Haha. Not really.
But such is my life. (:

It's almost vacation time!! I think I'm finally starting to get excited!! :D :D

I leave Tuesday.. In case you were wondering. ^_-

I am also fasting Monday and Tuesday, with Emma. I need it, and I can't wait. (:

I guess I'll write more tomorrow, but I thought I'd just say.. I'm not dead. (:

Start looking up, not down.

Everything  that can go wrong, seems to be going wrong.

My dad is out of work.

Our house got broken into.

My dad got frauded for a condo in Hawaii, we leave in 4 days. He is having trouble finding another place.

School is falling apart, and I can't seem to keep up on my studies between school and guard.

I don't even want to be in color guard. But I can't quit. She said that we weren't allowed.

I wish I had never joined.
Maybe once we start competing, it won't be so bad.

I try to fast, to get some control, and shit happens where I get forced to eat. I have no power over my food intake, or what the hell I'm eating. This is why i got really suicidal, or have been. Depends on how you look at it. I have no control, over anything. I feel like i can't put one foot on solid ground, and like I am just falling, and that I don't know where I'll end up. I feel so overwhelmed, and angry. So I end up gaining weight. My ultimate hate. That makes me SH, take laxatives, and fall apart.
I thought I was stronger than this.

With my dad's money troubles, I have always felt that when he is having problems, I get sucked into it. One way or another. I feel bad for him. Something similar to pity, but not quite it. I don't like it. I would rather feel hatred or anger. I can deal with those emotions, but not these ones. I feel like I'm a burden to him, to everyone around me. And it seems like nothing anyone else says can change how I feel.
I realize how much I am like my dad.
How I don't feel many emotions. I can be happy, but it seems like I am never happy these days.
How I see needing help as a weakness, and that I should be strong enough to not need help.
How I am starting to hate people.
I guess it's true what they say. That you become your parents
I don't want to be him.
I wan to be happy.
I want to smile and laugh.
I want to get out of this.

I know that if I continue on this way, I will never have friendships, I'll shut myself off from the world, I'll lose my boyfriend. Eventually.
I don't want that, any of that.
I want to be happy.
Laugh.
Smile.
Have good days, but have the bad ones too.
Even if I can't change the fact that I SH, or have an eating disorder, I want to be more optimistic.

How? For one thing, I would love to make a friend. Just one.
But I am bad at that, because I don't like large groups of people, I'm not social. I'm not the approacher, i'm the approachee.
If that's even a word.

Long story short, I need to change things. A lot of things.
I said that I was going to reinvent myself.
I want to.
Just gotta find a way to start.

I have so much to say.
I need to talk.

But I don't want to talk to anyone, look at anyone, be within 5 feet of anyone. I just want to scream "Fuck off!!!!!".

So instead, I'll stay silent, pop some laxatives, and rely on my self harm to take away my pain and confusion. My anger and lostness.

Worry after worry

I worry so much about my relationships with people.
I worry that I burden them
I worry that I bother them.
I worry that they will hate me.
If they know about my Eating Disorder, or my Self Harm, then I worry they will run away.
That they will give up on me.
That they can't deal with me.
I worry that I will get hurt.
I worry that I will hurt them.
I worry that I can't be good enough.
I worry that I make them worry.
I worry about them telling other people how messed up I am.
I worry that I will lose them.
I worry that they only feel pity, or something similar to it, towards me.
I worry that I just waste their time.
I worry that they stick around me because they're afraid of what I'd do if they didn't.
I worry that they see me as weak.

I know that some of these are irrational, but most of these things, I've worried about no matter what kind of relationship it is. If it's an acquaintance, I worry. If it's a friend, I worry. If it's my boyfriend, I worry. If it's family, I worry.

I don't want to live like this. I want to change it. I want to be proved wrong.
I want to change how I see things.
But I don't even know how. This is more or less a habit, a moral. A deep part of me, because it's always been that way.
I've had my dad tell me that I am a waste of his time, he's made me feel like I'm a burden to him.
I've had friends tell me that I'm a waste of time, that they just can't deal with me. That they don't care enough, so they just give up.
Everyone, in my life, fits into one of those categories of worries.

I want a way out. I don't want to worry so much, not about this.

If anyone has ever had any of these worries, and overcome, them, or changed them... Maybe you could share a bit about it and how you got over it? Anything is welcome, at this point, I just need something.

Everyone needs to laugh every once in a while.

Every time I see this, I laugh. xD

Weigh-In tomorrow

I have a weigh-in tomorrow.
To see if I've reached my first goal weight.

I hope, and I pray that I have.
I'm fasting tomorrow so that I can make my weight as low as possible. I don't want to leave anything to chance.
I'm so excited, yet terrified.
Story of my life.

It still  amazes me that people can be one way, but someone else can be the opposite.

It just confuses me.

But I'm so grateful for the support, and help that anyone is willing to give me. Even if I don't think I want it.

Today just hasn't been a great day.

Cimiron told me to to text him every time I've been wanting to engage in self destructive behavior. And I have, much as I don't want to. Or as much as I'm afraid to.

Still. I ditched the last few periods of my day, of school.

I just didn't want to do anything, talk to people, pretend to focus. Pretend to care.

I went for a run. My days are so boring all the time, I'm so surprised that I had the energy to go for a run anyways. I should do much more. I am so scared to go back home.

Just because I can never breathe when I'm there. Not to mention my dad said he wanted to go out to dinner tonight. I've been practically living off of Chicken Noodle Soup. It's only 180 calories, I can deal with that. It allows me to stay below 400. But when we go out, I have no control. Nothing. I hate that, and it gives me a lot of anxiety.

I still feel like there's nothing wrong with me. That I'm just imagining it. Like I don't have an eating disorder, I don't self harm, I don't abuse laxatives, I don't SH. I feel like I'm not sick enough. I realize that most people who suffer with this feel the same way I do.

Is it just a normal standard of people who have ED's?

Is anything normal anymore?

Two Sides Of The Same Coin

I suppose that it is true.
True that misery loves company.
I feel like there are two different people living inside of me.
Not me and Ana.
Me and me.
Another version of me.

One who depends on people. One who doesn't need anyone.
One who wants to see people in my position recover. One who doesn't want to be left alone.
One who hates people. One who just wants to be cared about.

I feel like there is always something wrong with me. I am such a pessimist. I can see that, in myself. But if anyone else says it, I disagree.
I am working on ways to change that.

Ways to change my outlook on everything.
Ways to not be so open with people.
Ways to reach my goals.

I don't understand it.
But i'm working on it.

When did my mind become my own worst enemy? The most confusing thing? Not understandable? When did I lose myself?
Or have I only thought this when it isn't true?

Back In Control

It's funny how my mind works. Or how I work, I suppose.

On one hand, I want to be around people, and have a best friend that I can laugh with and smile with. A best friend that will do crazy things with me, and who I can trust.

On the other hand, I really don't need one. I'm perfectly fine on my own, so why change it? Why let someone in who can only end up hurting me in the end? Why let them in when all I will do is hurt them?

So I don't.

Maybe it's just the mood of going on vacation in a week. But I feel in control. For once.
I feel like I have the power to make myself skinny, lose weight, and keep it that way.
Even last night, when I ate a lot more than I should have, it didn't feel like a binge. And I didn't entirely freak out as such. Sure, I wanted to cut, and scream, and self destruct. Instead, I took control, and took a shower, cleaned my room, and made a plan for today.
Control feels amazing.

I'm generally in a happyish mood. I don't feel negative, or down, or upset. I don't feel super happy, invincible, or like I can do anything. I just feel, a little better than okay, I suppose.
Which I'll take any day.

Also, I am totally in love with The Pretty Reckless, and Taylor Momsen. Oh my god. She is amazing, and I love her band. :D :D :D :D :D

She is so perfect...

Again.

Sick again. Got to school and threw up.
Ugh.
What is wrong with me?

So I'm going home, to sleep and not eat.
At least I can fast, and lose more weight.

Always find the bright side! Hope everyone is good! (:

Day 12!!!

SO... Day 12 was supposed to be day 7, and day 14.... Like once every week to track my progress...
But that horribly failed.

So. I weighed myself today.
I have reached a new low weight of 176.5!!!!
That's 1.5 lbs away from my first goal weight!!! :D :D :D

If I can lose 4 lbs in 12 days (without laxatives) then I am pretty sure I could at least lose 6 in 11 days with them..
I am feeling so optimistic right now, I guess lower numbers on the scale do that to you, right?
I know I have a long ass way to go to reach my goal weight of 120 or less, but for right now, I'll take this achievement.

So, no pictures. I thought that I would just post a before and after pic, and regularly post my measurements.
So here they are. Much more accurate than they were last night.

Current weight: 180.1 176.5
Arm: 11 inches (no change)
Thigh: 24 inches 21 inches
Waist: 31 inches (no change)
Wrist: 6.5 inches 6 inches
Hips: 39 inches 38 inches
Calf: 15 inches (no change)

I can so do this. Gahh, I hope my optimism sticks around. I feel so.... I don't know.
A wee part of me is happy, but a much larger part is like "Fuck you. Don't hope. You can't do this. Losing that weight was just a stroke of luck. Give up. You'll never reach it." etc. So... Yes.

I don't know a good way to end this post... So...... Yeah...... (:
Hai.

Random, but excited!!

I feel like I have so much to say, but I don't have the words.
Like I can't even begin to put a sentence together.
I wish someone could read my mind. And just read the things I'm thinking, without me having to say them.
Sometimes it's just hard.

I did get the laxatives yesterday, and they work really well. I feel so much better knowing I have them. It's yet another bad habit I'm indulging in, but hey. I've got so many, what's one more?
I would like to say that I'm weighing myself today, but I don't know.
I need to get a scale of my own, but even that won't happen for a long ass while.

Don't get me wrong, I'm in a good mood. ^_^
I'm at school, and I've already got homework, but I don't mind. This semester is going to be great. I also started my college class today. I'm a bit intimidated by the teacher, and the class. But I will hope for the best.
For once, I don't feel completely negative about it. That's the one thing I hate most about myself, is how negative I can be.
So I'm trying to change it.

I need to stay motivated. So here's my motivation. And some more, but of a different sort.

I can't wait!!!!! :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D 11 days!!!

Scared to hope

So this is kinda stupid... but I took my measurements in a kinda sketchy way. I compared them to my measurements from day 1, and some have gone down. I'm scared to hope though. Scared to want. To get optimistic about it.

I am having a hell of a time getting any free time to weigh myself and take my measurements  One of these days it will happen. I guess.

Never changes.

You think you have friends.

People who support you and who you can rely on.
But as soon as you get comfortable, something gets thrown at you, and suddenly you're back to spiraling down into the abyss that I've come to know as home.

I know it is going to happen. So why do I keep insisting that it will change? Somehow, sometime, I guess that's just humanity.


Hope. Fall. Hurt. And repeat.

But I am smarter than that, stronger. I won't fall I have one too many times.

I am alone in this. Always have been, always will be.
No hope, no lies, no trust. Just me. And Ana, but she's in my head, so just me.

Again.

Not healthy, but happy.

For once.

So... Today was really good. It was my last day of freedom before I go back to school tomorrow. I hung out with Katie and it was so nice!! I swear, we should do it again. [;

Then I have 13 days before I go to Hawaii!!! I am beyond excited!!!
We're hiking to a bunch of volcanoes, and I'll have no way to control my food intake while I'm there.
That thought creates a lot of anxiety, but maybe if I control my portions, I can burn more than I eat.

I will have no way to weigh myself when I am there... so that's 2 full weeks of not knowing. Fuck.
I will try though, and I swear, I'm weighing myself as soon as I get back.
I just have to try to be okay with this... Somehow.

I have no weight update today, I ended up not being able to weigh and measure, once again. But tomorrow, I for sure will. I also go to pick up laxatives. There's a chance I might be able to get them, and I'm excited for that. Just for the chance to lose more weight, because I need to.
I swear, I'm putting too much hope into this. I am so scared to fall.
But that isn't going to stop me. I guess I will just try it and see what happens.

Last night, once again I SH. I never SH there. I don't know why I did it on my wrist. I really don't. Bu now I'm all paranoid that someone will see it. It's kinda noticeable, and too far up for bracelets to cover. I don't wear make-up, so foundation coverage is out.
Any one have any ideas?
I also need some diet tips. Just simple ones. Preferably ones that don't need other things.
If anyone is interested in sharing some, comment below. But I don't entirely expect to get any comments about this one. At least not helpful ones.

I need to say something straight up. I do not want recovery. I do not want to stop indulging in behaviors, or be healthy. I will get to a healthy weight, but for now, it's gonna be unhealthy. So you might as well stop telling me to do it the healthy way. I don't want to.

So I guess that's that.
I am so not looking forward to school tomorrow. I like my break. I don't wanna go back to waking up at 6 am or earlier, and having homework. I'm starting to dread color guard practices, just because they take so long. But I love the exercise.
On the bright side, I can start again, brand new, and do amazing at school. I need to get my 4.0 back. I know, I'm such a nerd. But I am me! (:

Day 8

Well, day 8 is actually going to be posted tomorrow as day 9. I can't weigh myself, or take my measurements... so I will have to post it tomorrow.

Pretty exciting. Pretty sure I've lost ZERO weight.

As usual.

Nothing

I am such a masochist.
I think that's why I can't give this up. Because in all honesty, I feel I deserve it.
I feel like I'm retreating farther and farther into a place I can't even put a name to.
A place where no words can reach me.
A dark place.
A place that feels like home.

A place where I can hurt myself, and cry, and hate, and starve.
A place where no light can shine.

Normally when I'm upset, I talk to Cimiron, and it helps.
Last night, it didn't.
He called, right as I was about to SH.
Not that I told him that.
I ended up telling him about how I feel like I place burdens on him.
He said that I never did, and that he just wanted to help.
He told me to reach out, whenever.
If I need to talk.
Reach out.

I was happy, I laughed, I was smiling as we joked.
I was happy.
But as soon as I got off the phone with him,
The tears started falling silently down my face.
I reached for my razor blade. The feel of it becoming so familiar to me.
I couldn't breathe.
I felt like suffocating.
And all I could think was
I'm unreachable. I'm in pain, but I deserve it. I deserve worse.

If he can't reach me,
Who can?

When does the hope run out?
When is the battle over?

I leave for Hawaii in 16 days.
I dread going. I tried on the swimming suit I had shoved in the bottom of my drawer.
As soon as I saw myself, I cringed.
I wished I had my razor.
Or something, anything.
I have lost no weight.
I have made no changes.
Not eating for most of the day doesn't work for me anymore.
My metabolism is used to it.

That's what makes it so hard.
Everyone says that my metabolism is fine.
That it is at it's peak right now.
I don't believe that.
I go days without eating,
I eat a lot.
I eat a little, and only when I can't refuse.
Nothing changes.
Nothing.

Whenever I get hungry, like actually hungry,
I try to eat something small.
But no matter how healthy what I eat is,
Or how little I eat,
As soon as it passes my lips, I cringe.
I hate.
I cut.
I punish myself, for being weak and giving in.
This is not normal.

In my last post,
I said I was done talking.
I said that I no longer wished to talk
That still rings true.
I am still so close to the edge of the cliff.
Trying not to fall.
Things can't get much worse.
Not in my eyes at least.
Yet I fear what lies at the bottom.
Is it suicide?

I promised people that I wouldn't try again.
I promised I would be strong.
I promised that I would try to keep going.
I promised that I would take this second chance.

I've pretty much broken all of them.
If I can no longer keep a promise to myself,
and I can no longer keep a promise to someone else..
If I can no longer tell you anything about myself,
If I can no longer find the will to fight,
To keep going,
To try...
If I can no longer see a tomorrow,

Then there is nothing left.

I am empty space.
Nothing.

My voice is no more.

I see all the blogs of people who have started or been where I am. And I see where they are now.
They are losing weight.
They are reaching their goals.

They are finding themselves, making friends, being happy.
They are making progress.

I, however, am not.

I never have. There is no fucking point anymore.

I hate my dad. He is rude, and doesn't give a shit about me. He doesn't beat me, kick me out, or forget to feed me.
I can't rely on anyone. There are plenty of people that are willing to support me, and talk to me, and encourage me. I just need to reach out to them.

I don't even know what the point of this post is. Or what the point of me saying anything is. I should just stop talking. Everything I say is just for attention.

I'm done.
My voice is now more.

_

I sat in my room last night, crying. I couldn't stop, and it felt so good. When I got home last night, I was angry. Just angry. I was shaking, and I wanted to destroy everything in my room, and myself. Everything around me. I wanted it to reflect how I feel inside.

Unfortunately, I couldn't do that. So I tried everything else. Writing, reading, singing, dancing, listening to music, and everything else that normally helps. I couldn't go for a run, as it was so dark already. All of my suicidal thoughts started flooding in, and I started feeling trapped. I wanted to talk to someone, anyone. I wanted to talk to Cimiron, but I couldn't. It was too late his time. I got to thinking.

He is what is holding me up, and I rely on him. He makes me smile, he is my reason to keep fighting. He means the most to me. But what happens when we break up? When I fall? What will I do then? I hate that I put so much pressure on him because of this. I don't want him to feel like he has to stay with me, otherwise I might make another suicide attempt. No. That is not how it is. He was really sweet when I told him about it, and he listened. It was amazing. But one can only deal with so much crap before they reach their limit, and I'm afraid for him to reach his.

So then I started writing. On my mirror, because I could erase it, and nobody would be the wiser. Nobody would know how I felt... and then earlier today... I thought that maybe writing about it would help. Plus, if I ever get out of this, I can look back on it, and see how I once felt. This is proof that it wasn't all in my head... I can't be strong anymore..

I don't want to be.

I don't know how to keep trying.

I just don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know,

I don't know.

I don't know.

I can only smile and pretend I'm okay for so long.

I ask myself this every day.

This is what runs thorough my head 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I am all of those things, if not more. It never really changes, and I don't expect it too. But I just wish it wouldn't hurt so much.

As ungraceful as ever...

Something brought me here. More than just the usual desire to write. The need to say what is in my head. Things I can't say anywhere else.

I figure, as I am going to be telling the person who means the most to me about it, I might as well write about it too. It may be just what I need.

So here goes. Judge me if you will, but I will keep fighting.

Here's an account of what I've come to know as "The Incident."

On Sunday, I was sitting in my room. Pacing, actually. I had loads of anxiety, and I didn't want to sit down, because it makes my stomach stick out. I hate it.

If you have read my blog, or followed me for any amount of time, I would guess that you know that for the last few months, I've not been doing too well. Mentally, physically, emotionally.

Sunday, I hit the peak of that. December 30, 2012.

As much as I hate to admit it, whenever my anxiety levels get to high, or I'm upset, or something really strong emotionally happens, I usually SH. I know that is not a healthy way to cope. But I do it anyways.

So I tried that. I had been binging for a few days, and I hated how I felt. I felt fat, and gross, and unworthy, and low, and just all out horrible.

I needed to fast, but that is impossible in my damn house. So I SH. A lot. Unfortunately, it didn't have the effect that I needed it to. It didn't block everything out, and it only made me angrier.

For about a week before Sunday, I had been thinking about death. There have been a lot of deaths in my community, but also in my family. I was just thinking about how it would feel to die. How one could die. Or what dying meant. Just objectively thinking about it. Not in a personal way. I wasn't planning my death or anything.

But Sunday night, I just couldn't take it. I literally wanted to die. I just wanted to be gone, to be dead, to not have to deal with any of this anymore. It didn't cross my mind all the people that were there for me, or the people I would be leaving behind. It was purely selfish.

So I'm sure you can guess what I did.

I OD'd. I tried to overdose. I didn't take enough though, or maybe I didn't take the right combinations, because I didn't die.

I would have, if this kid hadn't stepped in. He kept texting me and texting, and calling, etc. My phone buzzing brought my dad around, and he found me.

I'm sure you can all guess what happened after that. I feel no need to finish that particular part of the story. This isn't easy to write. I keep writing a few words, then deleting a sentence, then re-writing it, then deleting. I just can't seem to get the words right.

For this whole week, the feeling of wanting to die hasn't gone away.

I still think about it sometimes, about what it would be like to fully die. I have accepted that, and it no longer bothers me. Maybe it should. Maybe getting comfortable with your death isn't the best thing.

I haven't told Cimiron about any of this. He doesn't know that I have Anorexia, that I cut and SH on a regular basis. He doesn't know I was having a bad few months. Or that I was suicidal. But  can't expect him to. I never said anything. I always told him that I was fine, that I was okay.

The reason being for that is that whenever I try to talk about it, he gets hurt. Hurt in the sense that he wants me to be okay, and that he wants to help. But I am not okay, nor do I want to be okay right now. He can't help, and I don't know how to ask that of him. So I gradually just stopped saying anything. I just hid it.

But as it was pointed out to me, I should tell him. He loves me, he can help me, and he cares. I know he does.

But with that comes my intense fear of what he would think. I am not one to care what others think of me, or to get emotionally attached to people. I just don't. Normally. But with Cimiron, I have. If he were to reject me, I would be crushed. If he just accepted it, no questions asked, I think it would be a form of rejection in itself. I don't know.

I asked him how well he took bad news, and he basically said that he took it kinda well, and that he would try to be okay with it. I know he would. That's what I love about him. One of the things anyways. So I told him that I needed to talk to him, and I talk to him in about 2 hours. I am absolutely terrified.

Most of my family doesn't know. The only one in my family who knows is my dad. I feel like if I said all of this allowed, then I would be making it real. I feel like somehow they would find out.

I need to be 18. When nobody has control over me except for me, then I can finally breathe. But for now, I guess I jut have to watch my back.

I feel so low, so undeserving of everything. Because I have sunk this low. I don't know what up is. I don't feel like I can go up. Only down, or maintain. I feel like I deserve to go down. Because I'm just that horrible. But I don't know. It is so hard to know what to do in these situations. I trust Cimiron with my life, and I know he is a good person. But still. I fear for my rejection.

Wish me the best of luck... I hope that all goes well.

That is my story.

Where I go from here... I don't know.

But I realize now that I can't give up trying.

What Does It Make You?

If you have a bad habit, but you don't want to quit it... does that make you a bad person?

I have an Eating Disorder... but I don't want to stop.
I self harm... But I don't want to stop.
I bite my nails... but I don't want to stop.
I over exercise... but I don't want to stop.

Does this make me weak? A failure? A bad person?

Actually.. I think it does. Or not. I don't know what it makes me.

If an alcoholic doesn't want to stop drinking... are they a bad person?
If a druggie doesn't want to stop smoking... are they a bad person?
If a junkie doesn't want to stop... are they a bad person?

What if?

Honesty is the best policy, right? Especially with the ones you love, right?

But what if it was something that they would never otherwise find out?

What if it doesn't effect them? Should you still tell them because they care about you?

What if they can't help you, what if you don't need help?

What if telling them would only tear everything apart?

What if telling them made them think you were crazy?

What if you got hurt by telling them?

What if they didn't love you anymore?

What if you knew you could prevent it?

What if you made a bigger deal out of it than it was?

What if it killed you?

Would you still tell them?

What if it had no benefit, and only hurt the person you were trying so hard to protect?

What if?

Whatifwhatifwhatifwhatifwhatifhwhatif?

Randomness in my life

So far.... the fast is going good.
Now that I've wasted a good chunk of my day on my computer ^_^
I think it's time to do chores and get movin'!!

I actually feel motivated to do chores, clean my room, and do my laundry today. I think this is my go-to activity when I have nothing better to do. But hey! At least it's productive!!

Sorry for my boringness. Just wanted to update on how life is going..

Pretty swell at the moment!!! ^____^

Motivation

***Thinspiration warning****

I have to keep myself on track. I can't lose sight of what I want.
So here's some thinspo. I am lacking inspiration, but maybe this will help.

*** I love belly rings. They are THE BEST!! I want a stomach to have a belly button ring!! SO bad!! Yep. I'm feeling motivated.

Though I feel a bit stupid because I don't know how to work Tumblr. Anyone know that would show me? LOL.

Great start for the new year!

Not. I can't even begin. Where do I begin?

Well.... I fucked up.

Twice. Or 3 times.

Maybe 4.


Fuuuck.


For one, I smoked weed. Yeah, I used to. I have only smoked maybe a handful of times in my life though. After last time... It was no more.
Well, wasn't.
My aunt and her friend were all for getting high off their asses, and for some reason, that made me decide to take part.. That is offense number one.

Offense number 2:
Because of the weed, I lost control. Fuck.
In the course of like 2 hours... I had 4 cups of coffee with coffee creamer (300), popcorn (400), chocolate (300), corn chips and ranch (600), skittles (250), and champagne (424). I over estimated a bit, because I had no way to measure things, and I don't know 100% how much I ate.. Nonetheless... It was 2284... Fuck. Yeah... Now I have to burn that off.... I know that I gained weight. Which means that I have to lose it.

Offense number 3:
Champagne. I knew that I was fucking up. I always do. SO I had to keep going. I had 424 calories in Champagne. And as it was my first time drinking... I did get a little bit drunk. Not like full on, I don't think I drank that much... but fuck. I still consider it an offense.

Offense number 4:
This morning. I got up, and my aunt and her friend were smoking. Again. So long story short, I ended up smoking again with them. Shit. I had one cup of coffee (150), biscuits and gravy (600), and hot dogs (300).
Yep. Wow. I am so out of control. And even as I write this. Yeah, I'm still high. Apparently, right now, I know no shame. But when it wears off... It's gonna be hell.
So the total for the day is already 1050. This is more than I ate on Thanksgiving and Christmas combined.
So much for 400 a day.

One day into the new year.. I've already fucked up. But for this one time, I'm going to act like this never happened. I am going to have to keep going, forget about this.


So my plan for the rest of the week. I am fasting. Liquid fasting. I will basically cleanse myself. I eat NOTHING until Sunday. That's when my 400 a day limit kicks in. I have to do this.

fatfailurefatfailurefatfailure

Ahh such that I am. Don't try to tell me I'm not. I have no hope for that reality right now.

I weighed myself. And I've only gained a lb from this. Though I feel like I should have gained six. It probably won't show up right. I need to get a scale of my own.

Anyways, I feel absolutely horrible. Bloated, gross, fat. Yeah. So I'm going home, I'm going to run, and I'm going to get back on track. I will be skinny. I am determined.

Now... to motivate myself.

My New years!

I definitely didn't plan it the way it happened out. And I don't know which version you are here to read about. God, I feel so whacky. So I don't know how much sense this post will make. Hopefully, you can at least understand it. So I'll give you the planned version, and the actual version. What you take from them is entirely up to you.

Planned version:
- Sit at home and have a movie marathon/
-Avoid food!!!
-Watch some fireworks, hopefully.
-Avoid food!!
-Possible pull an all nighter.... I mean... Who needs sleep?!!
-Avoid food!!!!

Pretty interesting, isn't it? Ah, well. I promise that the actual version is a little more.... messed up, interesting, stupid, however you choose to view it.

Actual version:
-Go to my aunt's to hang out with her friend.
-Decided I didn't want to go home, and that I would just chill there.
-Watch American Pie, and Bad Teacher. Amazing movies, if you haven't seem them.
-Smoke (weed) for the first time in about 6 months.
- Eat some food, drink some coffee.
- Smoke some more.
-Watch fireworks at midnight!
-Drink some Champagne.
- Smoke some more.
-Finally fall asleep at 3am.

Pretty exciting, isn't it?
Totally not how I planned it to go.
Really.
Judge me for what you will though.

Hope everyone had a good new years!

My 2013 Resolutions!

Yeah, I know. These were supposed to go up at midnight, weren't they? Well.... I was having a good/bad night. So.... they're going up late. Hope you don't mind. [;
So these are my "resolutions". I like to say goals, because if I say resolutions, then I definitely won't reach them. All that bad mumba jumba. You know what I'm talking about.

My resolutions:
1. Be friendlier. I can't isolate myself anymore.
2. Complete more of my "before I die" tasks.
3. Focus more on school. It's the key to everything I want.
4. Reach my UGW. It's gonna take time. But I will do it.
5. Stop pushing people away. Even the strongest people need people sometimes.
6. Think of more resolutions when you have a clear head... Yeah.

So there you have it! No, I'm not in the best headspace right now (another post to come). When my head clears, I'll add more to the list! So keep checking!


Happy 2013 everyone!!!!! ^__^