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Saturday, February 27, 2010

This is War.

I sometimes feel like an idiot. Isolated and alone, and like I want to deny that i have anything wrong with me. "Eating proves I'm a fake."
Then I post something up here.
And...well...I realize people relate.
Strange, isn't it?
Some of us have COED phases, others don't. I never noticed the restrictive phases before. But I can remember the torment of the COED ones. How terrible it was to eat, and how often I would sit there in tears wondering why I couldn't just stop with one brownie like everyone else.

After that post, I got a migraine. I had a two day binge fest. One of them literally happened in the space of two hours, wherein I consumed half a loaf of cinammon struessel cake, and half of a large pizza, followed by two ice cream bars, three cups of milk, and some poptarts. The next night was a series of chocolates, ice cream, girlscout cookies, powdered sugar, bread and butter, literally two palmfulls of salt, and more poptarts.

I know weigh 127.6lb's.

When I saw that, I think something in me snapped. I've been watching thinspo videos religiously, forcing myself to stare at them. Listening to the music and hearing every word. I've downloaded Manic Street Preachers entire discography, and have had 4st 7lb on repeat for the past 24 hours, so even in my dreams last night I was singing, "I wanna be so skinny that I rot from view! I wanna walk in the snow and not leave a footprint. I wanna walk in the snow and not soil it's purity." I keep looking at pictures thinking, "I was so close, but then, I got fat again."

I keep looking in the mirror thinking I look just like I did before I started.
Is it true? I don't know. Don't tell me if it's not. I need to think that I am. I need to hear that I look worse. That I will be so much worse if I gain more weight.
127.6 is the equivalent of being up to 197 again. I'm that same fat slob. Because if I don't stop now, if I don't stop eating now, I'm not going to stop until I'm even fatter than before. That's how it always happens.

The key to losing and keeping it off is will power.

I'm back, my dolls.
Today I've had 100 calories. I am going to be awake for about another 9 or 10 hours. I'm going to go to the gym here after I finish cleaning the bathroom and start my first load of laundry.

I'm only going to do 600 calories today.
Because that? That is what made me lose before.
600 calories a day.
That's the highest I am allowed to go to, until I get back down to 116.

To distract myself, I will have lots of tea, study my ass off, and clean like a motherfucker.
I'm also pulling myself off of my adderall, which is an appetite supressant, but I will control my appetite, and I will not eat, because I? I am stronger than side effects.

I am stronger than food.

Fuck that, I am stronger than my god damned mind.
I will not eat, because I am better than food.
I am better than the fat on my body.
And I will prove it by ripping the fat off strip by strip, pound by pound, and leaving it behind me in the miles I run on the treadmill.

Fuck food. All of you are right. I'm going to cover it in bleach and throw it in the trash.
My binge stash is GONE.
My cupboards are going to be empty.
All that will be left are rice cakes, carrots, and soy beans. And of course, my pepsi one, because that shit is fucking WIN when it comes to killing hunger.

I will win.
I will beat this.
I will be down to 116 again. And then, I won't stop. I won't let that be the end point.
When I get there, I'll lose more.
More and more and more.

I am going to get there.
I am going to be 103.
I am going to fucking perfect.

I will win.

This is my war cry. This is my defense of my cause.
I will go to battle for the skeleton within me, and I will conquer the beast in my belly that screams for food. I will win this war with water and tea and the sweat from my skin with every mile I run and every sit up I perform. I will be bloodied and tired, and by the end, there will be nothing but the bare necessities that remain of me. But I will stand on the pile of my enemies, and I will be the perfect statuesque epitome of strength and power, the priestess of the hunger goddess--restrictions neophyte turned starvation's virtuoso.
I will conquer.
I will succeed.
I will pave the path of denial, and I will reap the rewards at the end.

See me decay.
See me blossom.
See me win.
For when my choices are hunger or gluttony?
Thin is the only option.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

My itching fingers tease my flippant thoughts

I'm not dead.
Just letting you all know.
I haven't killed myself, don't worry.
I'm not depressed. Which is funny to think about. My problem is that I'm numb. I don't feel things very well. I don't process things very well. But I go through phases where I feel things so strongly it shakes me to my core, and then where I feel nothing at all. Where it's all essentially meaningless.

I can tell when I"m getting there. I start trying to be with men to be normal again. I start eating a lot. I stop working out. I cut off all contact.
It's symptomatic. Stage after stage after stage...

...I'm in a COED phase. I have a stash of food hidden in my room. More than a stash.
I went to the store and bought ice cream and powdered sugar and peanut butter, and ate until I was sick.
More than just one day in a row.
Burgers, pizza, food, food, food. No care about weight. No desire to lose. I've, luckily, only peaked at 126, and seem to be at a high of 124. Still too much. Still too much fat.
Still so fucking disgusting.
Overweight. Obese.
Overweight for my height.
No space between these thighs.

There's a girl at school who's anorexic.
She's bones. Long and tiny, with legs that are small as my arms. I see her, and her sunken eyes, and her liner smudged under the lids. Today, I finally put back on the red ribbon around my wrist to remind me not to eat. She's seen me staring at her, and then she saw that.
I think she knows, if she is like this.

A girl I've known since Jr. High announced she's been bulimic for 4 years, when I was trying to tell her to lose weight in a healthy way. I told her I have some first hand experience with ED's, but I don't like to talk about it. She said if I ever needed to, I could, but that she's glad I'm better.
I never said I was better.

I don't want to be. Not really.
COED phases rule.

In the not sort of way.

It's pure willpower over desire that needs to stop me from eating. I don't even care about being thin right now. I just want to eat. I just want to eat and eat even when I'm not hungry.
And it'll be willpower that'll stop me.


Wednesday, February 17, 2010

I wanted to believe you would win the war in your head that I did not understand....

I wouldn't kill myself because I think whatever is on the other side is better.
I wouldn't do it because I'd think that somehow it all would end.
I hold no disillusions that say that things would magically get better. I know it's selfish, and mean, and I think that if I did forcibly self-pop it, I would have to come back again, and repeat the whole process again.

I think I'd do it because it would start again.
I'd kill myself because I'd be tired of the body I'm in. I'd be confused by the mess I'm in. Fed up with having to deal with the tangles in my own head, and not even knowing where to start. I would do it because there would be nothing else. Because I'd know I have true potential to do anything, but for some reason, I can't bring myself to.
I would do it because I can't find the switch to turn me on. Because there's something in me that's defective. I wouldn't do it because I'm really depressed, but because I'm broken. I've known I was broken since i was a little kid. That I wasn't normal, or right, and that I would never, ever, ever be like other people.
I would do it so I could walk up to god
hand that ultimate deity my mind
and say, "I want a refund."

That's why I'd do it.
That's what my motives will be if these ever prevalent thoughts finally overcome me and say "Pull the trigger" in a voice too loud to be ignored. It won't be with a scream of rage or a sob of agony that I go out with. There will be no overwhelming tears on my part. No desperate search for peace. No clawing misery and some twisted misconception that the world will be better off without me.

With neither shouts nor simpers will I take my life. It will be with a sigh, a shrug, and a simple, "Damn. Better luck next time, eh chums?"

Sunday, February 14, 2010

I am so freaking exhausted.
I don't know why. I didn't really do anything major yesterday.
I had least 6 hours of sleep.
I took my adderall, an excedrin for my back, and a cafeinne and vitamin B-Complex/Green Tea supplement pill.

I'm normally wired at this point.
It's seriously hard for me to get out of bed.

My back pain is easing up. I can breathe again without the pressure. I can also apply pressure to the areas where the kidneys are without intense pain. I'm thoroughly convinced that last shooting feeling was just me having pulled my muscles, since I did some badass back exercises, and with my spine being all wonked like it is, it makes the area super sensitive. I mean, it doesn't deplete the other symptoms, and I know I have to go get it checked. 1 in 9 people have kidney problems, most of which go undetected. And the migraine meds I've taken in the past are known for causing serious problems with them. They actually used to make my kidneys hurt, which is why it's awesome that I don't need to take them anymore.

So I'm going to go get tested. I don't want to. I'm scared of it, and I think I'm over reacting. But...when I can't have my dad pop my back in that region without serious pain, and just...the other things? Yeah.
It's most likely nothing.
Just me freaking out, because of my families medical history XD
I scare myself waaaaaaay too easily.

Anyway, iluall.
I haven't made an appointment yet. I will soon, and tell you all what happens.

Stay strong.
Never give up. Never give in. Never let them see you cry. And never let them take you alive.
We are awesome, my loves!

Friday, February 12, 2010

Peri--I'm only upset because I'm your second favorite Jew *nods* XD You're talking to me. I insult people as a way of saying I like you. I am the Queen of Jew Jokes, ok? A recent conversation with my Dad:
Me: "We so Jewed them."
Dad: "Don't say that. That's terrible."
Me: "Excuse me. We Us'ed them."

"Us'ed" being like "You and Me".

My BMI is 24-24.9 right now. I'm on the high end of healthy, but my Body Fat percent is still high. A doctor and nutritionist have both told me that to be truly healthy, I need to lose another sixteen pounds, at least.
I don't have a gap in my legs. I actually have very large thighs. That's the problem. Right now, I am mostly maintaining. But I don't want to stop. I have belly fat, there's no ribs from the back, and there is still something of a roll. You can start to see my ribs when I stretch. The only prominent thing is my collar bone.
thank you for your concern, bb.

As for everyone else;
I'm going to go get tested for Kidney Failure.
If I wind up with that, I would be getting onto medicaid or something else. Meaning I'd have insurance. Meaning I'd get a real head doctor. So I could get something other than Adderall, and get treated for the things I really have.
It's a mixed blessing.
Terrifying and deadly, but I dunno.
I have to go get tested.
I'm too afraid to.

No. It wouldn't be brought on by my eating disorder.
I'm an ex meth addict with kidney dysfunction running in my family, and I've been abusing excedrin, sleeping pills, and stimulants most of my life. I was also severely obese for a long time, which also leads to the problems with the kidneys.
The "Cigarettes and speed for living//sleeping pills to feel forgiven" pretty much sums up the majority of my life.



Yesterday, the pain started up in my kidneys bad enough to put me on my knees.
I completely went back on the strength I talked about in not wanting to eat, and had a cheeseburger and fries, a cookie, and later, a bowl of cereal. I now feel bloated and disgusting.
it didn't undo everything. I'm still not as fat as I once was. I'm still in low 120's. I'll make up for it soon enough.

I'm going to go stretch out and finish up at my job. Then head to the gym. Kidney pain or not, I need to walk. Because not moving is giving up. Giving up on my health, on me, on my future.
If you lay down and give in to pain or depression, it will consume you. That's why you can never stop.
You can never lay down.
You can never give in.
Because that's the way you start to die.

That's how you lose.

The end.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Don't you think the joker laughs at you?

It's weird.
When I've burned a lot of calories at the gym, and have been restricting, I can feel the shift in my mood.

I'm not as happy. I'm not as on top of my game mentally. I'm quick to irritability. I'm more withdrawn.
It's weird, but I still smile, and I still interact. The anger feels like a sign of success. "Diamonds are made through the pressure and pain of fire." This is my pressure. This is my blaze.
This is my purifying flame.

I'm still up high on the calories. But the longer I go eating less, the more and more I want to eat less. The more successful I am, and the harder I work at the gym, the less i want to binge. The more guilty I feel for binging and for making it all not-worth-it.

The less I eat, the less I want to eat. The more successful I am at refraining, the easier it is to turn away sweets. "Why destroy it all for momentary satisfaction? This feeling of success is much better."

When the actual starvation pains kick in, it'll be harder, I know that.
I'm on 900 calories a day, which is a LOT. Which means it'll be a lot longer until I start to really feel it. It's a slower onset right now.
Maybe, hopefully, I'll be able to get down lower.

I was 119.6 again this morning. My own fault for eating cereal right before bed. I'm sure, had I been able to weigh myself an hour after waking up, I would have weighed less than right after i woke up, but I didn't have the time before work. And I had to dye my hair.

I've been doing good today. Very good. I even have a box of 100 calorie reeses snacks, and there's seven packets in a box. I was allowed to have one today, and I did. And while I had that initial, "OMFG I WANT ANOTHER", I didn't. I put it away. And I haven't had that overwhelming urge to have one, since.
Because while it tasted good, I'd rather be proud of myself.

I need to lower my calories. I will, as soon as I'm sure i have control over me again.

I also need to go through and read blogs. I think tonight, if i don't go out to a bar, I'm gonna catch up on a lot of your guys' blogs, and do some homework, since I have an exam here REALLY soon. Which is nuts. I'm so fucking behind for this stupid personal trainer course thing.

Stay strong, babies.
Let me know how you all have been.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Besides, you can't believe without bleeding.

"I don't know much
But a crutch is a crutch
If it's holding you from moving on
I don't know what to do
Not anymore, not anymore
I don't know what to do
Not anymore, not anymore
And you, well you mean everything
You mean everything to nothing
You mean everything to nobody but me."
-Manchester Orchestra

Date was awkward.
When will I learn to stop experimenting with heterosexuality?

I like him.
He's got collarbones sharp as razors. And a jaw sharp as sin. Delicate wrists and eyes the darkest brown. Gangly legs and a boyish smile, and he looks at me like a predator.
He stares at skinny girls and I do, too. Maybe once we get past the awkward realization that we both tend to prefer vaginas, then I won't feel so awkward with the fact that I like a person who doesn't have one. Though the lack of breasts will forever be unsatisfying. I'm wondering if I really like him, or I like the idea of being straight.
I've tried this path before. I always end up leaving, hungering for a woman again. Unable to really get into the guy thing. Sure, it's hot for the strangeness of it, and the foreign shapes and planes of their body. But at the end of the day, I hunger for long hair and lush hips, and the softness of flesh that only comes from a woman's skin.

Yesterday I did okay. Not eating wise, but better than I had been doing for a long time. I stayed around 1000 calories, and only because I started to have an ambien binge but stopped. But I also burned 900 calories on cardio at the gym, and then did another hour and a half of combined weights interspersed with walking the track. I'm down to 119.6 this morning, which is still sickeningly high, considering my lowest is 116.8 or something like that. Today, so far, I've had only 265 calories. My body doesn't ache yet from the exertion yesterday, and I plan to do another night of hard workout at the gym tonight. My goal caloric intake is 900 calories, since that seems to be a pretty good number for keeping myself from getting too severe of blue fingernails.
I've noticed it's kind of a permanent state of my hands, now. I figure when I finally get a job with good insurance, I'll get my circulation checked to make sure I haven't permanently fucked it up, but no matter if I eat well for like...weeks, my nails still turn purple.
At least they're not going numb anymore, since I've started taking iron supplements.

I'm tired, today. Worn out, and needing to do homework. It's a bad and good worn out all at once. I pushed hard enough at the gym to work myself to complete exhaustion. But that also means that I pushed hard enough to actually make an impact on my metabolism. While my weight hasn't really gone down to a good low, I feel thinner than I did when I woke up yesterday. Which is sort of what matters most, isn't it?

I'm very lethargic, though.

I always sleep so well when I work myself to collapsing. Last night was no exception. I worked beyond even the point of being hungry, to where my body was in such a state that it couldn't feel anything but tired. When I slept, it was hard and deep. I had weird dreams about a coworker of mine coming in before work, needing to change, and dressed in drag. And it was normal, for some reason. He's this tall, gangly black guy, and in my dream he was wearing a kind of bad blond wig and some god awful red lipstick and a blue powder blue, with some big fur lined coat. I can't remember if the outfit was a dress or not, but I know the coat was lined with white fur. It was the strangest thing. Like a cheap Ru Paul, but I was totally used to it at this point.


He's not feminine in real life. At all.
I wonder what a dream analyst would say about that XD!

Anyway, time for me to go pretend to work.

Stay strong, girlies.
I feel like it's a struggle to restrict. more so now than it ever has been before.
But I realized that I don't hunger for the food. I hunger for the texture. I don't need the texture. Is texture really worth my ass getting fat?

No. Didn't think so.

There will always be more food.

Just because I don't eat it now doesn't mean I can't find something later and have it then. When I'm allowed it, and it'll fit in with my calories.
There will always be more cookies, and cupcakes.
The trick is to eat them spaced out. To only have small amounts. To not try and have them all at once.
Because you will never, ever be where you are again. If you gain back all the weight you lost, it'll never come off again.
And then you'll be a failure.

At least, that's what I tell myself in the mirror.
I know it'll come off again, because it always does. Up, down, up, down. But I've never been this low. And to think, I'm still fat.
and have lots of skin.


Stay Strong.
Wish me the same.


Saturday, February 6, 2010

Update from the front lines

"Save me from my former self;
the crease between the pages is the line I crossed and lost myself.
Now this is my box,,
these are my walls,
this is when time stops
and I'm all there ever was,
and I'm all there ever is
and I'm all there ever will be...
a freeze frame pine box soliloquy."
-Sage Francis

Just a quick note to let you all know I'm not dead.
My weight is going up and down. From about 119-123. Right now, I'm having a hard time restricting or doing anything, and I'm just trying not to focus on it.

A lot has changed.

Something has happened. And it's not like "Oh, there's something terrible", or "Oh, there's something wonderful". It's not even something I can put my finger on.

My life has changed. Or it is changing. I don't know how or why.

I just feel it. Deep in my bones.

There's this...thing that's shifting. A palpable altering in my reality.

I met someone.
And I'm about to meet with them for the first time.
And it's not really like...I don't know. I don't know what will come of it.
I don't know how I feel.
I feel kind of ambivalent.
Mostly because I just broke my Zune. I can't get the fucking pause function to work. I want to throw it but...that's kinda how I broke it the first time around.

A friend of mine is in the hospital. 20 years old and might have had a stroke.
And it just hit me that I'm growing up.

I'll post up more later as it goes or happens. Or whenever. I'm not sure when I'll be returning with quasi regular updates. My parents want to have some talk or another, so it might be after then. I have a feeling i need to hide my thinspo shit, though. But that's always the case when someone close to me says "it's time for a talk".

I just realized, writing this, how much I miss my girlies (and boys) on here, and how much I rely on you to keep me on the right track when it comes to not gorging.
I think I need to come back more firmly.
I miss you guys.
Hope you missed me, too.

Hopefully I'll be able to write more later.