Wow, we've hit the two week mark until Thanksgiving. Glorious. Time really flies! And I've been feeling like the holidays will start feeling more official because they started decorating outside my work. In case it's been a while since I've mentioned it, I work in a little cafe on my college campus in the medical center, so there are decorations galore when Christmas rolls around. There's usually a giant tree in the square, which, if not for the stupid construction, can be seen from the wall of windows in the cafe. I could see a few smaller Christmas trees, as well as a giant wreath, being put up earlier...now I'm just crossing my fingers that we'll get a radio soon so we can play Christmas music...I think it's in the works. Is it acceptable for me to start listening to it on my own? I don't like the music they play on the radio, but it's better than nothing I suppose. Good thing I have lots on my itunes. By the way, what's your favorite Christmas song? I'll tell you mine tomorrow once I decide who's my favorite person singing it...
I had somewhere between 8 and 900 calories today. I know that's not good, but I was soooo freaking hungry today. I really wish I had carrots again, but I'm all out. Maybe I can get some tomorrow or convince my mom to bring them when she comes up again on Saturday. But I'm worried because you can turn orange from eating too many from beta carotene poisoning...so maybe I'll pick a different vegetable to abuse for a week. I don't know what one though. I'll just google the lowest calorie vegetable, but I'm guessing it's cucumber. Good thing I like cucumber, especially when I douse it with salt and pepper. Mmmmm.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
15 Days...still alive
I cannot even begin to contain my excitement about the fact that Thanksgiving is a meager 15 days away...even though just yesterday I was complaining about how 16 days was soooo many. That's what happens when a particular school assignment that I don't want to do is looming over my head; it's all turned in now though. Unfortunately, I have many more to go before I can finally enjoy a holiday, but at least being busy makes time fly. It also makes me forget to eat. Bonus.
I had some carrots and cherry tomatoes earlier with yellow mustard (about 100 cals at most), then a lean cuisine for dinner (250 cals), and finally a little hot cocoa (70 cals). That brings me to a grand total of...420 calories. That's much better than yesterday, I think. Probably the main reason why the caloric content for today is so low is because 1) my stomach has been trying to rip me apart, 2) I've been sleeping because of the lack of sleep last night, and 3) I feel fat? Also, I've been frozen solid for weeks now, which I can only assume is a direct result of my low food intake and poor nutrition (not that I care about that). It's weird because it isn't the air around me that cools me but my actual body temperature. I have waves of chills that come over me, and no amount of clothes, blankets, or mittens can warm me up. When I go to sleep, it's the worst because I'm not moving or regulating any body heat. My roommate thinks I'm a freak because it's 74 degrees in our apartment and as she waltzes around in short shorts, I'm wearing several pairs of pants, two long sleeves shirts, a sweatshirt, two pairs of wool socks, a scarf, and gloves, all wrapped up in a blanket and fucking freezing. Oh well, such is life. I may vocally complain about being cold, but secretly I'm basking in it because it means I must be doing something right.
I love how not eating yields less of a need for sleep and a frigid body temperature. It's perfect for me: I can stay up studying and pull all nighters without bingeing the next day AND I can wear lots of layers and feel all cozy, warm and fuzzy (minus the "warm" part) inside. I'm bored with Wednesday now; time to sleep.
I had some carrots and cherry tomatoes earlier with yellow mustard (about 100 cals at most), then a lean cuisine for dinner (250 cals), and finally a little hot cocoa (70 cals). That brings me to a grand total of...420 calories. That's much better than yesterday, I think. Probably the main reason why the caloric content for today is so low is because 1) my stomach has been trying to rip me apart, 2) I've been sleeping because of the lack of sleep last night, and 3) I feel fat? Also, I've been frozen solid for weeks now, which I can only assume is a direct result of my low food intake and poor nutrition (not that I care about that). It's weird because it isn't the air around me that cools me but my actual body temperature. I have waves of chills that come over me, and no amount of clothes, blankets, or mittens can warm me up. When I go to sleep, it's the worst because I'm not moving or regulating any body heat. My roommate thinks I'm a freak because it's 74 degrees in our apartment and as she waltzes around in short shorts, I'm wearing several pairs of pants, two long sleeves shirts, a sweatshirt, two pairs of wool socks, a scarf, and gloves, all wrapped up in a blanket and fucking freezing. Oh well, such is life. I may vocally complain about being cold, but secretly I'm basking in it because it means I must be doing something right.
I love how not eating yields less of a need for sleep and a frigid body temperature. It's perfect for me: I can stay up studying and pull all nighters without bingeing the next day AND I can wear lots of layers and feel all cozy, warm and fuzzy (minus the "warm" part) inside. I'm bored with Wednesday now; time to sleep.
Sixteen Days
There's only sixteen days until Thanksgiving, and yet, I feel as though I just can't make it. Never before has two weeks (that's how long until I actually go home) felt like such a long stretch of time. It feels endless, and I feel an overwhelming weight on my chest every time I think of everything I need to do before I find relief. I know that I should just take a day at a time, rather than looking so far in the future, but I can't help it. Instead, I just feel helpless and like I just won't make it to the holiday this year. But of course, no one worry because unless something crazy happens I will make it. There's no reason why I wouldn't; I'm just stressed out.
I'm afraid of tomorrow and probably not going to sleep tonight because of it. I've found that if I stay awake all night, it feels like the day is pushed back a little farther. You know when you go to sleep and wake up an instant later? Yeah, I don't want tomorrow to come in an instant. So no sleep for me. Besides, I have a lot of shit to do tomorrow, and I would kind of like to enjoy some procrastination right now. I'm probably going to take some diet pills...maybe two because (why not?). I ate lots of carrots with mustard (less than 200 cals...I ate a lot), sushi (250 cals), a soy latte (150 cals), and a hershey bar (160 cals). So that brings me to less than 800 cals, I guess. Obviousy I could do a LOT better, but I've been sticking around that number without binging for several weeks and actually seeing consistent progress. I'd like to have a day where I don't really eat at all soon, just to remind myself that I can. Maybe I'll do that on Sunday. That sounds like a good day for it. Tomorrow I will be chugging coffee and taking espresso shots like it's my fucking job. I swear caffeine is the only reason I'm still alive.
Also, and this is slightly disturbing, I've literally been plotting a day where I can . Never mind, you don't need to know about that. Just me and my musings about the razor chilling in my desk drawer...and no, I'm not killing myself so no one panic. I just don't think you need any tmi. I think I use the blade to remind myself that I can feel, like Johnny Cash says in "Hurt." When I can feel it the next day, it keeps me grounded because I often (as in 99 percent of the time) forget that I'm in a body and a part of reality...which is an odd concept to me right now. Maybe that's why I frequently stare at my hand, brows furrowed, watching it move before my eyes, and I think with childlike fascination, "That's me?" An odd feeling.
I'm afraid of tomorrow and probably not going to sleep tonight because of it. I've found that if I stay awake all night, it feels like the day is pushed back a little farther. You know when you go to sleep and wake up an instant later? Yeah, I don't want tomorrow to come in an instant. So no sleep for me. Besides, I have a lot of shit to do tomorrow, and I would kind of like to enjoy some procrastination right now. I'm probably going to take some diet pills...maybe two because (why not?). I ate lots of carrots with mustard (less than 200 cals...I ate a lot), sushi (250 cals), a soy latte (150 cals), and a hershey bar (160 cals). So that brings me to less than 800 cals, I guess. Obviousy I could do a LOT better, but I've been sticking around that number without binging for several weeks and actually seeing consistent progress. I'd like to have a day where I don't really eat at all soon, just to remind myself that I can. Maybe I'll do that on Sunday. That sounds like a good day for it. Tomorrow I will be chugging coffee and taking espresso shots like it's my fucking job. I swear caffeine is the only reason I'm still alive.
Also, and this is slightly disturbing, I've literally been plotting a day where I can . Never mind, you don't need to know about that. Just me and my musings about the razor chilling in my desk drawer...and no, I'm not killing myself so no one panic. I just don't think you need any tmi. I think I use the blade to remind myself that I can feel, like Johnny Cash says in "Hurt." When I can feel it the next day, it keeps me grounded because I often (as in 99 percent of the time) forget that I'm in a body and a part of reality...which is an odd concept to me right now. Maybe that's why I frequently stare at my hand, brows furrowed, watching it move before my eyes, and I think with childlike fascination, "That's me?" An odd feeling.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Missing
Do you ever have those mental conversations in your own head? I know that everyone does, whether they care to admit it or not. Mine happen all the time, but I think it's most memorable when I'm in the shower. I'll just stand under the steaming hot water, begging my body to finally warm up, and occasionally writing my calorie count in soap on the bathroom wall (if it's not a morning shower). Then I start to have a debate with myself about my chaotic rationale. Recently, I've been having my conversation with a "shrink," and it makes me wonder if deep down I really want help sometimes. I stand there, thinking and asking myself questions, like, "Why do I feel like life is pointless? Why do I see the concept of friends as being laughable and for the weak hearted?" But the problem is, I'm asking myself these questions questions that I don't know the answers to and I'm getting nowhere.
Sometimes I wish someone could just sit down and talk to me. I want them to tell me why we're supposed to get up each morning, why we're supposed to have friends, and what the hell this so called "happiness" is that everyone raves about. Sure, I laugh frequently, smile a whole lot (though it's usually forced), and joke around with people. But I do it because I feel like that's what I'm supposed to do, not because I want to. It's all superficial, and at the end of the day, when I return home, I just want the day to be over so another hellish one can begin. And that's why I want a person to explain to me all these things I don't understand. I want them to tell me why we're supposed to enjoy life, why we're supposed to open up to people, and why we're not just meant to be alone.
But I can't do that because doing so would be admitting aloud that maybe my thoughts aren't the right ones. I like to think I'm right. I like to think that believing that being alone makes you strong and that needing the companionship of another makes you weak. It's like I'm watching the world go about in this craze, while I'm the only one who can see through the lies. No one can possibly be so happy, can they? Or is it just because my mind can't wrap around the idea that I flat out reject it? So here I sit, listening to Evanescence, "Missing," feeling like it's the story of my life.
Isn't someone missing me? No, I don't think so. I'm lost...and sometimes...sometimes I wish I could be found.
Sometimes I wish someone could just sit down and talk to me. I want them to tell me why we're supposed to get up each morning, why we're supposed to have friends, and what the hell this so called "happiness" is that everyone raves about. Sure, I laugh frequently, smile a whole lot (though it's usually forced), and joke around with people. But I do it because I feel like that's what I'm supposed to do, not because I want to. It's all superficial, and at the end of the day, when I return home, I just want the day to be over so another hellish one can begin. And that's why I want a person to explain to me all these things I don't understand. I want them to tell me why we're supposed to enjoy life, why we're supposed to open up to people, and why we're not just meant to be alone.
But I can't do that because doing so would be admitting aloud that maybe my thoughts aren't the right ones. I like to think I'm right. I like to think that believing that being alone makes you strong and that needing the companionship of another makes you weak. It's like I'm watching the world go about in this craze, while I'm the only one who can see through the lies. No one can possibly be so happy, can they? Or is it just because my mind can't wrap around the idea that I flat out reject it? So here I sit, listening to Evanescence, "Missing," feeling like it's the story of my life.
Isn't someone missing me? No, I don't think so. I'm lost...and sometimes...sometimes I wish I could be found.
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