apparently i'm bad at this whole "eating disorder" thing... or something

So today in between classes i planned on taking a nap, as usual, because i only got a measly 3 hours of sleep last night...

This did not happen. Instead, i lay there for 10 minutes, my mind racing with thoughts about everything, and finally i just said "fuck it" and decided to write my musings down, thinking that maybe if i purged my thoughts i would finally be able to take my nap.

Instead i ended up writing 5 pages worth of something i'm not quite sure what to call, only to realize upon finishing that it was time for my next class. so no nap for me :(

i'm bored now and i'm gonna put it all on here. make of it what you will. i'm not really quite sure what i think of it, or how to react, if i should at all...

What bothers me MOST about my "disease":
is not that I am sick.
I realize that I seem to have put myself in this place.
I accept the fact that I am a self-loathing, yet oddly somewhat vain, individual.

No, the thing that bothers me MOST
is that I don't LOOK as sick as I FEEL.
Bulimia has ripped my insides to shreds,
my core is damaged, hurt, twisted,
my mind is maimed, warped, and drained.
Yet my shell, my skin, my appearance
is "normal." "healthy." "sane."

All I wish is to look as sick as I feel.
Thinness, beauty, acceptance
is NOT what I strive for.
I want people to see how diseased I really am.
I want to be so thin that people worry, not admire.
I want people to see, somehow;
That every time I stand up the world spins
and I feel like i may pass out.
That I can't sleep because all I hear while lying in bed
is my heart loudly pounding at an irregular beat.

Maybe, then, I AM just an
attention-seeking "little" shit.
Am I WORTH the attention?
If no one sees me when I'm healthy
or even when I LOOK healthy,
what makes me think that anyone will take notice
once I'm sickly thin, or even on my death bed?
What's so great about the attention anyways?
Would I want the help if someone offered?
If someone recognized my PAIN,
would I really want it to just DISAPPEAR?

Or would I rather disappear myself?
(Is that what I'm trying to do now?)

I'm trying to understand this all,
but the more I look into it, analyze it,
critique my irrational thinking,
the more I want to just sink farther into my disease.
Maybe once I LOOK the part,
someone will try to analyze it for me.
Maybe once I LOOK diseased,
I will finally be able to relinquish
some of my "responsibility" for this disease.

Everybody talks about this "ED" guy
like he's some crazy, deranged, stalker
that invades your mind like a parasite,
some foreign virus attacking your psyche...

Am I deranged?
Because for some reason I've come to the conclusion
that this disease lies within ME;
That i choose every day whether or not
I'm going to strive to be sick
(i usually, no scratch that, ALWAYS, side with the "sick").
That every time I eat my entire stores of food,
giving into gluttony, and purge my body of all evidence
I am purging away MY OWN sanity.

I want more than anything
for my body to reflect this insanity,
this sickness, these irrational thoughts.
It's not that I feel thin,
I'm not "good enough" to be thin...
But maybe if i were thin, SICKLY THIN,
people would recognize my pain.

I don't even try to appear happy or healthy anymore...
My appearance makes people assume.
Maybe humanity is just too vain in that aspect.

...Maybe I'm trying to prove a point,
choosing this disease.
Maybe in my rational mind I realize
and hate the fact that
so much of how people judge others
relies on our outward appearance...

If I can look normal and healthy,
and yet be so much the antithesis
of what other people see me as
maybe I'm trying to say something;
like my disease is my silent message to the world.
No one will ever hear it, recognize it,
or ever really care.
But I hear myself, loud and clear.
Do I want others to hear?
To realize my insanity?
To try to understand it?

If only I understood it myself...

The odd thing is:
My rational mind wants to understand it,
wants to know why and how
this disease became and is such
a large part of my life.
Yet part of me thinks
that if I start to understand it,
I will only be asking to get rid of it.
Like once I have this grasp of why I do what I do,
and how I got this way,
I'll start to get better.
I'll start to get FATTER.
I'll start to become more HEALTHY.
and I'll start to match my exterior.

... I don't think that I want that just yet.
No, I DEFINITELY don't want that yet. At all.

dammit, i wish i could just
turn off my fucking mind
for just a few seconds.
and take a nap.
a REALLY LONG nap.

i have the urge to write

but i don't know what to write about. its like nothing and everything is going on at the same time. lately i've been really busy and life is kinda hectic. but at the same time my life is seeming extremely monotonous.

one one hand i feel like i'm doing nothing and yet for some reason i feel really overwhelmed.

in a way i'm excited and ready to get out of here and go back to school yet at the same time i don't want to.

and how is it that at times i feel like i'm actually kind of normal and getting into more normal habits yet i feel even more depressed and abnormal at the same time?

gah. too many conflicting ideas and feelings.

sorry so scatterbrained. my mind has pooped out on me.

i think i'm burning out.

somebody.
get.
the.
crash.
cart.



stat.

am i a selfish bitch?

i realize that this sounds utterly ridiculous. really. i know.

sometimes i feel like my eating and exercising habits are just "mine", ya know?

i understand and completely support others' desires to better their lives, lose weight, and become healthy (not that what i'm doing is healthy), but when it comes to a teamwork type approach to it, it just doesn't sit well with me.

i'm all for helping others, my mom included, but i'd rather be encouraging her along than doing it alongside her for some reason. i don't mean it to seem like i think i'm better than her in any way. at all. it's just that i'd really rather do it in my own time.

maybe it's just because i don't want her seeing how unhealthy my exercising really is. how i completely over-work myself.

maybe it's because i'm afraid some of my bad habits will rub off on her.
or maybe it's because i'm afraid her bad habits will rub off on me. (the constant over-eating, always putting off going to the gym, making excuses, etc...)

i don't know.

i just kind of feel like a selfish bitch for some reason.

top 5 reasons not to like fireworks

5. they're loud. now, normally i don't mind loud things... unless they sound like BOMBS. 2 years ago i actually had a panic attack because it sounded like we were fucking under attack.

4. gunpowder and explosives. who invented fireworks anyways? wouldn't it be strangely ironic and coincidental if it were the americans? (i know it wasn't, so don't lecture me) i mean, basically fireworks are glorified bombs that shoot up in the air and are made to look pretty... i'm a pacifist. that idea just doesn't sit well with me.

3. the strobe-y looking ones. only one thing to say here---- i hope there weren't any epileptics in the audience...

2. oh wait, i have one more reason not to like the strobe-y flash thingies. they make my retinas hurt.

1. they fucking moved them! they used to shoot the fireworks off of the island, but they moved it now... before we had a perfect view from our place AND we could go out on the boat and get up really close, almost to the point where it scared us because it seemed like parts from them might fall into the boat (this actually happened once... i still have the remnants somewhere). now we have no view from the house and we're just too lazy to deal with the boat since they're shooting them off like a half mile from our place

moral of the story: i'm not a huge fan of fireworks...

lardass

i haven't gone to the gym in like 2 frickin weeks...
and i've found myself slipping away from my habit of counting calories
and i havent purged in about a week

it almost seems as if i'm starting to turn into a "normal" person...




so why do i feel like such a mess?

................

...so im crying right now, and writing in my blog because my camera has run out of battery and my mom won't fucking go to bed. i want to make a video. its so much easier for me to talk into my camera.

2 dudes came over about a half hour ago to check out our piano. they want to buy it. i dont really want them to. it's not that i dont think they should have it... they were this cute gay couple and they both looked like cute little teddy bears. and they actually knew alot about pianos. i'm sure they'll be wonderful parents to my piano...

but god dammit, i'm gonna miss her :(




...and that's why i'm crying. i'm sad that she's probably gonna be carted off sometime this week by the piano movers, and i'm pissed that my mom isn't even asking any money for it (just a $50 deposit which they'll get back once it's moved out)...

i mean, this is the piano i grew up with. i remember one of my clearest childhood memories of music...

i was 5 years old and i had just come home from my grandma's funeral. i had heard the song "on eagles wings" (i think that's what it's called) for the first time at the service and i fell in love with it.

i hummed it in the car the whole way home, and once i got home i hopped up to the piano and just started playing. my mom just sat there, dumbfounded at the fact that i was actually playing a song that i had just heard, only once, it actually somewhat resembled it...

and then i turned around and looked at her in the eyes with a smile and said, "listen mom, i'm playing in cursive!" ( i hadn't quite learned how to play with both hands at that point)
and not only that, but i've always just had this ability to listen to a song and play it. i hate dealing with music. i mean, it's useful, but i suck at reading it, and i think whats more important than accuracy in music is feeling the music. and intuition




maybe i'm just crying now because i'm thinking of my grandma, and how she's gone...

and maybe it doesn't seem so stupid that i'm crying over a piano anymore... but it's still inevitable... she's going...







although i may get to visit her, once they've restored/tuned/refinished her. play her one last time, hopefully do her the justice she deserves... she's served me well

druggieeeeeee

soooo i may indeed have a job. tomorrow i have to go in for the "next step", whatever that is... it actually might be the drug testing (?) or maybe some sort of orientation. i still haven't been told "you have the job" or anything of the sort. i hate it when they're so vague and possibly misleading...

if, in fact, it is the drug testing, i'm kinda worried. but, i think (and correct me if i'm wrong) that usually you have to make an appointment somewhere else to do the testing... so maybe it isn't... if it is, well, oh well.

the reason i'm worried though is because i took some ephedra this morning without thinking because i was planning on working out.(by the way, this is the first time i've taken any in probably 2 weeks) then the supervisor called and told me that i should go in tomorrow for this "next step", so i was like, hmm... i hope that's not the drug testing...

anywho, i looked it up online, and apparently according to every medical/government documentation, ephedra may turn your test into a false positive for amphetamines...

BUT, according to all the weightlifting/bodybuilder forums, this is a load of bullshit...


another worry- i just baked a huge batch of raspberry cream muffins... pray that i have the control not to eat the whole lot of them...

in conclusion... i have to go to bed...