...this is very bad.

127.2.
Fuck me.

Today, I pulled out my pants from the dryer, and thought, "Jesus, these are my work pants? They're HUGE!" Then I pulled them on, and they were tight around my thighs and in my belly. Size 4's, squeezing the fuck out of my gut. I've noticed it's been getting softer than normal, and my legs feel thicker, and I know it's because i haven't worked out since basically the first of August. I haven't had time, and seeing as I have a killer head/chest cold, it makes it nearly impossible to do much of anything without wheezing.

Add onto it the munchies brought about by a sudden increase in pot consumption in a desperate attempt to regulate my suicidal tendencies that overwhelm me this time of month....?
...we have an inflating PrettyWreck.

I'm trying to decide what's more important.
My mental stability, or bodily perfection.

Of course, as those of you on this journey know...it's the second.



I'm laying off the weed and increasing my stimulant consumption. I'm decreasing my food in take to something more reasonable. I'm a trainer for goodness sake, I should know better than to eat like I am!

I need to get my life in order, and I'm not going to eat anymore unless I have done something good. I have to earn the right to eat, and not let food overwhelm my life.

Food is the reward for a job well done, and I have not deserved even a morsel these past few months.


I'm going to have to lie to boy in order to start on my most recent path of melting away this cage that entraps me. He hates that I struggle with this, and gets so happy every time he sees me eat. I've been eating normally, and I'm afraid of what will occur when he notices I'm losing weight. But I have to balance out whether or not i want him to be happy right now and lose his love when I get ginormous, or whether or not I want to hide this terrible deed in order to keep his affections.... It's precarious, but such are the choices people like us must make, aren't they?


Ironically, the girl I wrote about, H, the blond one I adore...I tried to hook her up with Boy's friend, M. H is my walking thinspo. She's a size 2, and has a good shape to her, but very thin arms and a tiny, beautiful little body. A little bit taller than me, but just like, by an inch. And M and her get along very well, and both are seriously into cars, but M admitted to me and Boy that he could never date her.

Why?
Because she's too skinny. And when he said those words, Boy burst out with, "OH MY GOD I didn't want to say anything but fuck she's way too damned small to be attractive." Then he looked at me and went, "Please don't ever get as small as her."





And I was kind of confused. Because I've heard that remark about her weight by a lot of people outside of the gym (but the guys in the gym tend to be into her because...it's just a gym rat thing. Male trainers like anorexicaly skinny whores, and so do a majority of the body builder types...I don't know why, but a majority of men in the real world, outside of the fitness obsessed, don't. Even relatively in shape guys who have just a six pack, tend to like girls sizes 4-8....).
I didn't want to tell boy that I plan to become smaller than her. He said all sexual attraction would disappear if I got that skinny, but I'm already terrified of sex. I love it when we mess around and get in the mood, but the idea of it when I'm not...in the act of the touching, kinda unnerves me. Probably because of my past, not gonna lie.


Anyway. I need to call up the new gym I'm renting a space at and see what's going on. I have to start getting my clients over there.
If I can get three clients to agree to meet me there this week to get memberships, then I'm going to have earned a meal. Otherwise, nothing.




Today, what I need to do to deserve to eat again:
Get situated at the gym
Make at least $40 in tips (if there's rush, if not, only $20 :( )
Reapply for a server job I wasn't qualified for before
Call up four clients to tell them where I've moved to
Go see my mom again.
Get to work on time.


Won't be too hard.
Hopefully I won't fall through, and I'll be allowed to have something. But if I go over 1300 calories, then I can't eat tomorrow. I'm saying 1300 because I've obviously been above 2000 if I'm gaining this much, and I need to bring myself down with control. And in a way that nobody will be suspicious of.

Time to go restock on carrots, fruits, and random veg.
Get reacquainted with the basic food groups.
Water, air, diet pills, hunger, vegetables, fruit, and control.
Blend well.
Serve chilled for maximum calorie burn.



Stay strong, my loves.
I'm going to become the stick figure living inside of me.
And then the world will see what perfection really is.



♥
PrettyWreck

Too much pot?

I've started smoking. It's helped more with my severe anxiety and depression that occurs around my period than any anti depressant ever has. Part of me worries about addiction, but the rest of me is suddenly so fucking terrified of having to give it up or let someone take it away because it's illegal. This is the first time I haven't been suicidal in the week before my period in like....years and years and years.

Though I feel horrifically fat. I was at 127 again this morning and wanted to scream and rip my hair out. All it means is that I have to be very careful today to not fuck up and watch what I eat.

Boy knows about my ED. I purged the other day while he had stepped out with his friend. It wasn't nearly enough to be satisfying. And I've still gained.

I keep eating. Typical for before my period. I just wish I could stop gaining. I wish that even when the gain came, it would be less than the month before, and the loss more than the month before.

Yuck.

I'm super anxious right now.

Have valid reason for it.
But not a lot of time to talk.
Watching Snow White and about to go finish moving my things into Boys house. Yeah, it's weird that we're moving in together this quick, but...I feel safer here than I do at Rita's. I just hope things work out with us. I'm a realist, and know that endings are inevitable, be it through divorce or death. But I also am a realist in that relationships need work and communication, and I think he and I can do both of those if we try hard enough. One just has to make up their mind, I suppose.

I wish my Zune charger worked. I really would feel better if I could zone out and rock out to music, not gonna lie.

Quick Update, yay!

I have internets again!
Boy and I moved in. I'm getting the rest of my shit out of Woman's place by this Saturday and breaking the news to her. I feel bad for doing it so suddenly, but I have a cockroach bite on my foot, and an infection on my toe from her skanky ass carpets, and my dog started getting blisters on her face from how dirty that place is. Plus, Boy is being cool with money right now, and since I just quit the gym and have to pay rent to a new place (if things go well at the interview I'm about to head to) then that will seriously help in getting off the ground, no joke.

I have hopefully 4-5 clients who will be coming with me, which will be a major bonus. I still have to get the papers printed off for them to sign, and start to get some shit organized and the like, but I'm seriously excited. If things go well, and I start to build up a steady client base, I'll be making about $1000-$1300/month in the first few months off of it (combined with my server job, and I'll be around $1800/month), and if things go well and I stay on top of my game, I'll be at around $2000/month just from my training by December. I just have to start pulling in more clients and really start to pursue these things. Gotta crack down like a motherfucker!

Not much more I can talk about in the short amount of time I have. Things are crazy, money is tight, I'm tired, and I'm hoping boy can tolerate me. He's bore witness to a migraine, and a slightly cranky day. I'm waiting for when he finally sees me in all my fucked up glory taking out serious issues on food and kicking the fuck out of a punching bag.

I apparently hit him the other night when his alarm startled me, and I bolted up right up with only the singular thought in my mind of finding a weapon to defend myself with.




I already warned him that he's probably the only person who will be able to wake me up without me trying to hurt them XD
Which is why I tend to not sleep with a knife under my pillow anymore.

YAAAAY PTSD.









Someone from the cult contacted me again.
Found my new email address and got a hold of me.
The cult that fucked me up.
The one that's nearly made me change my name and has driven me beyond just the breaking point, but to full out shatter.

At first, the fear and anxiety hit.
And then there was rage.


It's funny, isn't it?
I spend so long dreading that it will happen,
that when it finally does,
I've used up all of my fear.
And the part of me that I used to call "My Warrior" comes out, and all I can think is, "How DARE you?" I feel like I get all the meek terror out of the way before hand, so I'm free to lash out with a violence when it inevitably occurs.




It was someone who had always been on the outskirts.
He says he's not involved anymore, so I'm not quite sure how to respond to him, or if I should. Part of me wants to play with fire and see what stirs. Discover what they're up to. It's the part of me that, oddly, sees all of life as a game of war. I sit on the outskirts with friends and family, pretending to be normal, but inside, life is a battle and I have a clearly defined enemy. I think I continually have the urge to check on them just so I know what they're up to, so I can station my defenses and wait. So I can be sure they're not tracking me. To ignore the enemy does not mean they no longer exist. To turn your back on someone does not mean they go away.


It just means they have a larger target to strike.

I assess every person on the street and wonder, If they attacked, what would I do? I think of what I carry on me. If I had to fight, what weapon would I choose?
I consider the stances and weaknesses of those I see. I would hit their knees, or their postural weakness is heavily in their lower back...I could strike their spine and take them down. They have no balance.

I am contacted by those who I fear or despise.
And rather than run from the lion,
I face it head on and watch with eyes narrowed, studying it's muscles, waiting to see which way it will pounce, playing chicken with a beast that could consume me if I acted for a moment as if I were it's prey.



I think it's why I have so often been able to walk through the dirtiest and most dangerous of neighborhoods at night without being hassled.
I avoid street lights, I don't make eye contact, I am constantly on the alert, and I move with the confidence of a creature that is not the hunted, but the hunter. The air that says, "Approach me. I am off putting, pretty, and small, and I am hungry. Come to me. I want to hurt something, and I want an excuse. Let me use you."


I like to play my vulnerability up.
I like to feel small and needy.
But I like to know that people underestimate me.
And that I could kill them when they least expect it.



Always be prepared: Have a plan to kill everyone you meet.

LOL because that's not psychotic!
I'm just a fluffy little bunny, aren't I?
And I am! Just the Monty Python bunny, is all!


OK I have typed too much.
Off to go and work out an arrangement with a new gym!
WISH ME LUCK DOLLIES!

Stay strong and beautiful.
Oh, and my weight is up to 124 again, which is ok. I'm in pre-period bloat phase, and last time, I got up to 127. I'm really, really, really hoping that this means I'm starting to break through my high weight time, and I'm trying so hard to keep it down. I binged so bad this morning because I've been exhausted, but yeah, whatever. Blah.
I've also tried a little bit of something that makes me hungry, because it eases anxiety when I do have to eat. It's...well...I'm going to be getting my medicinal marijuana card for my migraines, to see if it helps,a nd also because I'm so sick of the anti-anxiety medicines, and sometimes...sometimes I really do just....want to stop panicking and be ok with eating a fucking apple, you know?
And I tried some, and for the first time in like...a full out fucking year, I ate something and didn't feel guilty the next day.
Of course...I felt guilty the day after that, but whatever.
You get what you can get, I suppose.



Stay strong, starve on. I'm going to try and do the same.

♥
PrettyWreck

I'm going back to Cali....

So I'm heading to my brothers wedding and typing this on my cellphone.

My temporary fling that I was epecting to have with boy is....not going according to plan.

Its going...well....amazingly.  Ive spent the night with him every night for over a week, and Im probably going to be moving in with him when I get back.  We got a cat together.  Im terrified, but...hes worth it.  Hes worth everything.

I woke up this morning to the words "I love you" tagged on the mirror in soap.  So before I left dor CA, I wrote a bunch of notes and hid them in places he normally looks.  I hope he likes it.

Hes adorable.  And Im afraid of messing this up.  He makes me so happy, and I want to make him happy too.



My weight is not going as well.  Im trying to chill on the ed a little for him.  It means I keep fluctuating between 121.3-123.6.  Bah.  One day I will see the teens.

I have fornicated with your family.

I feel like I should be sanitizing myself religiously.

For those of you expressing concern, I thank you. I've recently moved, and I have no computer. I'm in the process of trying to rent one until my baby returns from repairs, and my only access is my roomates desktop which currently possesses a most awkward keyboard, or my parents computer.

As for a little update on life, I will try and be quick, as the woman who's home I currently rent a room in does not maintain a very tidy household, and as this keyboard is in her personal quarters, I am vaguely perturbed by the idea of what may be on these keys, and when the last time is she washed her own hands....

Boy and I have been going fairly steady, and he has met my parents. We're planning a vacation together in October. I've finally finished moving out of my house as of last night, and spent my first night in my new place. I've a pretty vicious restrictive phase again, and dropped in the span of three days from 127.8 down to 121.6 this morning. It's taken it's toll, as my body has begun to cramp up and I've started to become moody, exhausted, and overwhelmed. Of course, part of this has to do with the chaos of moving, maintaining two jobs, a boyfriend, a sudden surge in my social life, and just general chaos.

I've also quit my gym job.

I will be done in September. I'm in the process of going into private practice, which I believe will be most beneficial to my future career goals and aspirations.

I've been living off of Atrophex (which I am addicted to), Adderall, and Nutella on toast. There is no more any such thing as bread. Just raw toast.

I managed to get one of my roommates kicked out already.

I'm hoping for one of my friends to move in. A girl who I will call H, who knows about my ED, and is completely nonchalant about it. She's caught me purging before, and just stood there chatting with me as I induced vomiting. She's perky, blond, younger than me, a hookah fiend, and whereas I am a 4, she's a 2, but seems so much smaller. I adore the hell out of her, because I want to be as tiny as her. SHe can go for days on end without touching a morsel of food and her lifeblood is alcohol and her air is the smoke of that flavored tobacco in the three new hookah pipes I possess. When I'm around her, I have no need to think. She's gloriously ditzy. Has an incredible amount of intelligence, but no desire nor need to use it. She tends to spend most of her time simply checking out boys, looking for the next way to have fun, always seeking someone to spend time with and hang out with, and will gladly spend hours coloring, chatting about nonsense, or playing with kids meals toys. We both clean obsessively when we're around each other, and she always makes me laugh and feel hella relaxed. She reminds me of what it's like to be YOUNG, and not some self obsessed, overly "intellectual" thing overwhelmed with the anxieties of day to day life and responsibilities.

I feel like a kid with her, and it makes me happy.

Part of me is sad.

She's dated girls before. She says she's a lesbian when she's drunk.

I doubt we would ever hit it off in a serious long term thing, but I just sort of wish I had started to connect with her before me and Boy, because I've never just had a fun relationship. The sort of thing that's wild and filled with nothing but laughter and an in-the-moment craziness. She's small and I could feel comfortable with her. But I know nothing serious would ever come of it, and I know she's not worth ditching Boy for. It's just me being fickle as always, fretting because fretting is what I do, and I always look for ways to curse myself.

Also, the crazy boy roommate here apparently flipped shit when he saw how I left the bathroom today.

Because there were hairs on the floor.

I didn't SWEEP when I was done getting ready for work.

....because god knows, I gotta take time to sweep off of three hours of sleep, working a double back.

I'm gonna drop kick this guy in the face. All he does is complain about shit. And all I can do is hold my foot to resist the urge to shove it into that sobbing-bitch-hole called his mouth.

He's about to taste toe covered socks.

Damn bastard is the worst stereotype of Jews. Like...I'm a cool Jew. He's the whining, high pitched, New York Jew who can only complain or "kivetch" or however the fuck you spell it, and is always sick, and nothing is ever good enough and likes to say, "OH MY GOD" all the time. That sort of Jew where you're not sure if he's Gay or....well...Jewish.

Either way, both groups PRAY he's not one of them because he's a bad representation of it no matter what group he falls into.

Oh....and did i mention he's homophobic?

Yeah.

Guess what I pulled out and carefully folded with all the reverence due to the stars and stripes?

My rainbow flag.

As he was talking about "some homos" acting like predators against him at the gym.

Sorry.

But he's not hot enough to be butt raped.

He'd be like the dork in gym if he were to go to prison. The last to get picked. Whoever would get to buttrape him would be the low man on the totem poll.

....okay, I could totally go on with the innuendos about anal penetration, polls, holes, totems, your mom, and the ways I fucked her last night, but alas, I think it's time I go. I have to order a movie off of Netflix for boy, then punt a cat across the house because I can.

And it just smacked my dog in the face.

YAY PUSSYPUNTING!

(If you don't know what that is, ask your sister about it, because I played it with her last night. OHBURN)

Also, best picture ever, as taken off of CrazyXangel's blog.

The end

♥

PrettyWreck

Updates

Silence follows with the passing of my laptop.
May we all give a moment's silence in mourning.

Dear Baby, you were a good piece of equipment. Our thoughts are with you. May you find peace in the repair shop you have been sent to, and perhaps be sent back repaired. If this is not the case, then may your replacement live up to the power with which you operated, and the abuse you took through being shoved in backpacks, tossed around a backseat in a speeding car, and downloading insane amounts of random items off the interwebs and having hard drives scrubbed repeatedly after bad proxy servers were loaded, viruses installed, and various porns removed in an attempt of covering tracks before parents touched your glorious keyboard.

Aaaaamen.





I'm on the Mental Diet for my gym job. Very strange. I keep winding up with the band on my left wrist.
You can't think any negative thoughts.
I've been on my period for five days, and collapsed on Thursday after a binge fest like a motherfucker at my server job. Had to be driven home by a friend, and have had a migraine since then. Collapsed again yesterday. And yeah. It's totally hard to keep myself positive through all of that.


And some weird updates. Ok. Lemme try and have this post make a little bit of sense, yeah?

My current weight? Ridiculous. My new phone? Sexy as a motherfucker. HTC MyTouch 3G Slider with T-Mobile. I am almost free of the chains of Verizon.

My current love life....?
....amazing.



I have to say, things have been....surprising, to say the least.



Boy is...different.
I'm not sure how to describe it.
Last post, I know I said I thought he was going to break up with me, and I hoped he did, but...he didn't. And I can't even begin to put into words how relieved I am that it didn't happen.
See...ugh. I don't even know how to explain it.
He knows.
About everything.
My ED. My PTSD diagnosis. I've tried to show him all the ugliest parts of me, and he sees them, and accepts them unwaveringly. I feel safe when I'm around him, uncomfortable, terrified, and just confused.
After that post, we got into a fight that lasted for a week. I said purposefully hurt things with no idea why. I ignored him, stood him up twice, avoided his calls, mocked him in front of people....
...I did terrible things.
I blamed my stress. My job. My life.
I validated it and defended it and put people on my side.
And he waited.
Patient.
When he finally snapped and we fought, I went to see him with a friend, after telling the friend to help me ditch out quick.
I got there...and didn't hug him or touch him. His friends came over. We talked a bit, and I tried to avoid the urge to jump on him, because the friend, H, had just been dumped by her boyfriend and I didn't want her to be uncomfortable. But Boy looked so defeated, sitting there txt'ing, no smile on his face, shoulders slumped. His door was covered in dents, and when I asked about them, he said, "It's the only thing that won't hit back and that I can't hurt when I do hit it." It was like something in me was breaking. He hides nothing and wears his heart on his sleeve. I had already told him over text that all this bad shit had been happening, and used it to justify my avoidance (getting kicked out, doctors appointments, etc.), so he knew there had been drama, and I really didn't want him to see it...but...still....

I wandered into his room when his friends came over. He followed a few minutes later, and I grabbed him and kissed him, trying to keep my mouth closed to cover the taste of the vomit from my purge a few hours earlier (I could NOT track down gum, damn it). We collapsed onto his bed, and I wrapped around him, and almost started crying, shaking, thinking of just how good it felt to be in his arms. He was safe. He was home. He held the back of my head and rolled me on top of him, whispering that he was falling in love with me, and begging me to talk to him, to tell him what was happening, to stay with him and not push him away anymore. I begged him to not leave me, to never make me leave, to let me stay, and to please forgive me....

...we talked. Sat there, curled up, and talked. He said something that made my heart break. Told me that what hurt the most was that I didn't feel comfortable saying when I was hurting. Because he wanted to be a part of my life, not just a piece in it. That he was there to be strong for me when I couldn't. That he wanted to help with my pain, and wanted to stand by me when I was crumbling, and keep me up when I was falling.

He's too damned good for me.
He's so god damned good for me.


Last night we talked for hours. On Thursday, I collapsed at work, and had to be driven home. My boss, CD (the assistant chef at the server job) caught me. He wound up carrying me out to my friends car. I didn't tell Boy the full details, but he found out, and since he doesn't have a car, he told me he felt so damned helpless. Last night, he called me when I woke up at 2am and we talked for hours. With my migraine, in the dark of my room, he got me to tell him things i never say outloud. That I feel dirty and broken. Why I started on my ED. He asked me questions all about it. Asked why I was doing it, about my childhood, my life. I answered everything so honestly. He said, "On Thursday, were you really sick, or were you purging?" It wasn't accusatory. He never accuses me of anything. It was curious. I try to never lie to him, but I said, "I just felt sick." And we left it at that, because I didn't want to admit this current bout of migraine and collapsing aroused from me purging. It's not from starving--I've gained seven pounds. It's from having my period for seven days of hardcore bleeding, but I'm not ready to tell him that.

I told him about being kidnapped. About what happened to me before that. About the suicide attempts, and how I feel sad everytime people say they wish they could go back to being a little kid, because this time in my life right now, despite all the pain, is the happiest i've ever been, because my childhood was hell. He told me about things that had happened to him, and at the end of the night, before bed, he said something that made me almost cry....

"I've dated girls who have had problems or who I thought were strong, but I always knew how things would end with them. You're just...you've told me things that I think if you said more about would make my blood boil, not because it's your fault, but because somebody dared to do that to you. And you know what, Pretty? I'm proud of you. I'm so fucking proud of you for surviving. For having the courage to tell me all of this and to come back to me. I'm so proud of you. And you're not going to push me away. If you are broken, it's not your fault. I think whatever it is that pulled us together did it so I can be the one to fix you. And you know what, baby? I love you. I'm falling so hard and so fast, but for the first time, I'm not scared. I'm excited. I love you, and I'm going to stay by you and get you through this."


I think something in me melted.
I'm so lucky to have found him.

My migraine is now starting to recede. I need to keep packing, because I was supposed to finish moving places, but my parents were cool with letting me put it off while I was busy...you know...being dead. On that first night, THursday, my dad apparently found me slurring in the kitchen, trying to find sugar, before I fell over and he panicked. My bad seizure migraines are coming back, but I think it has to do with 1) an addiction to Atrophex and Adderall, 2) A lack of sleep, 3) The fact that this last period lasted for over a week, and is still going on now.

HOORAH.




Oh, also, my doctor has smuggled me a months worth of antidepressants that are prescribed to patients in top ED clinics. It's very expensive shit, so I'm happy he gave it to me. He finally believed me on my disorder when the new med student took me in to take my weight, and she forgot to zero it out before I stepped off (I have to get weighed stepping on it backwards), and when I saw my weight, I flipped out and started to scream and sob. I wanted to tell the Med student sorry, but I couldn't stop trembling long enough to get the words out.

I'm so fucking obese.






When I was being carried out by my boss from my server job by him and my friend, they both made remarks: "Thank god you're so light."
When he caught me the first time I fell, I could feel his arms shaking.
I'm not that light.

But I guess I made him laugh. He grabbed my ass when I collapsed, and was like, "It's not on purpose."
I guess I looked at him with the most "duh" expression and said, "If you really wanted to grope it, you just had to ask."


We flirt all the time. But he's Boy's friend, and Boy knows that he's my favorite and the only one who really is invited to touch.

I kept joking with Boss the whole time. And my friend.
I had to keep them laughing so they wouldn't make me go to the hospital.

I hate my hormones. My ovaries.
Why couldn't I have collapsed over starving?
Oh...that's right....because I keep EATING. OMNOMNOM.
Purging is easier on antidepressants!
Ironically enough.
No...I collapse because I'm bleeding out of my VAG.
How fragile. How pretty.
(Heed my sarcasm.)