Friday, December 30, 2011

The Things They Say And The Things We Hear

I received one of the greatest compliments, in my opinion, from a friend a few weeks ago.  Well, I suppose one wouldn't necessarily consider it a compliment persay, but I appreciated it all the same.  The context of the story was me mentioning to my friend that my recent foot problems were caused by me being, apparently, incredibly pigeon-toed.  As a baby, I even had those shoes with the bar in between to fix the problem.  Clearly that didn't quite work.  At least being pigeon-toed is better than the latter, walking around with your feet pointing outwards and looking awkward.  Now I'm getting sidetracked.  What my friend commented was, "You're so adorably flawed."

Now, some people might not appreciate that, but I did.  Being told I'm perfect all the time is exhausting.  It forces me to try to live up to this high expectation that other people invariably set for me, and it frustrates me when I know that I'm not as perfect as they seem to believe.  Obviously.  I'm a bit of a mess on the inside and on my arms, though they're covered in silk and lace.  What I loved was being told that I'm not perfect, but I'm loved anyway.  And this is why this particular friend has been the only one that I open up to (sometimes) and the one that I want to keep in my life.  It's nice to know that even though I screw up, cause problems, and have no conscience, I still have someone who cares about me.

People say things that they think will have positive reactions, but we often hear their words differently.  I frequently hear something firsthand and then hear a retelling secondhand, and the stories never match up.  Somewhere there's a disconnect between our ears and their mouth...actually that disconnect is called air.  It's the space between us, and the space that separates us.  It's the gap that clearly shows the differences between our minds and bodies, and it's the reason that we can't communicate our thoughts in a way that they're received properly.  Of course, it will always be there, and personally, I somehow have a disconnect between my brain and just about everything else in reality.

My friend will never know how much she means to me, but I don't think there will ever be someone like her.  I know that I don't mean nearly as much to her, but that's okay.  Because even though I'm flawed...someone thinks I'm adorable.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Tis the Season

Merry Christmas.  I find this to be one of the most anticlimactic days of the year.  It's the day that I realize that all the cheer and all the joy that people pretended to have for the past month will be gone in mere hours.  I love Christmas(time), but the actual day itself is borderline depressing.  I admit that I find that many things in life have that quality, but that's for another day's musings.

Christmas is a beautiful time of year.  People pretend to be happy, gathering together and laughing while consuming large quantities of alcohol, buying gifts for people they don't truly care for, and consuming foods that will cause them to gain at least 10 pounds under the protection of the "It's the Holidays" excuse.  Yes, it's a beautiful time of year.  We will all pretend to be happy while secretly feeling guilty and drowning our sorrows with gifts and lights.

I think one of the reasons I love Christmas lights is that, at least for a little while, I have something that will brighten my life.  It's unfortunate that eventually the strands come down and the lights go out and reality comes crashing back in as the darkness once again envelops my visions.  

But for now, I'm going to enjoy my day of dreaming and my final hours of pretending.  For tomorrow the lights will be just a bit dimmer and reality will be that much closer.

Another year comes and another year goes; round and round is how our lives go.

Monday, December 19, 2011

Selfishly Wishing For A Friend

Being a bridesmaid is hell.  I hear it all the time in movies, on tv, and from people I've met. You have to pay lots of money to buy a dress that you'll never wear again or have your hair and makeup done in a way that looks hideous but makes the bride feel better about herself.  It's not always like that, of course, but it seems to be so more often than not.  I bring this up not because I'm going to be a bridesmaid but on the contrary.  I'm nearing the age when friends people I know are beginning to consider their weddings or future engagements.  And when I think about it, I realize that there is not a single person who would choose me as one of their closest friends to be in their wedding.  And as selfish a thought as it is, I can't help but wonder what is so wrong with me that I can't be a decent friend.

Perhaps I close myself off too much.  I've heard that close bonds form when two people are open to each other, but I'm a one way street.  I listen, I give advice, but I can't ask for it in return or offer my own feelings.  Similarly, I let my relationships slip through my fingers.  I don't keep in touch, I act elusive, and I can't form any lasting bonds.  Friends that I used to have made new ones, and I was lost in time.  They like to see me, but I'm like a distant memory.  It hurts every once in a while, but I have no one to blame but myself.  Few, if any, have ever made it through my walls, and they don't like to stay within them.  Maybe people just don't think I value friendships when I don't contact them or seem to care when lapses of time have passed without conversing; I often wonder whether I am simply incapable of it.  Are there people in the world, like me, who just can't form sincere friendships?  Am I just too much of a flake to be considered a treasured companion?  I offer light entertainment briefly before I once again disappear into the wind.  Who wants a friend who comes and goes like the rain?

I'm not reliable, I'm never constant, and I'm always running.  Even now I'm looking into graduate programs across the country, and I can tell you that I will move without regret or turning back.  I won't miss people, just like I won't value the new ones that I meet.  Life is always changing and I never seem to stop moving.  I may never be a bridesmaid, and I'm okay with that.  But I don't think I'd even make the guest list.  I can assure you that I'm really not talking about weddings.  Or rather, I am, but that's not the point.  I selfishly wish for a friend who would call me just to hear my voice.  And here I sit, alone in my dark room, knowing that I could change but seemingly lost upon how to do it.

We were born into this world as single beings, and perhaps for some of us, that is how we were meant to stay.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Secrets Secrets Are No Fun

I finally put up Christmas decorations today, and now my house feels infinitely more festive.  I wish I could enjoy the holiday season a bit more, but as it is, I'm a little overly stressed at the moment. Work has been obnoxiously busy, and I'm applying to graduate school with the full knowledge that my grades are pathetically below desirable.  There are too many things going on for me, and I'm struggling a bit to cope with all of it.  This is one of those times that I wish I had a friend.

Working with girls my age is great because they're a lot of fun, but I don't like for fellow employees to know personal things about me, even if they're more like friends.  I like to go to work, pretend as though my life is perfect, and act cheerfully.  Sometimes it feels like I'm living a lie, but I'd rather do that than see pitying, knowing eyes staring at me like they did back in high school when you can only hide your problems for so long.  Still, there's certainly times I wish that I had someone to confide in about things - nothing deep or particularly serious (I only have one friend for that, if she asks when I'm drunk) but just anything to get of my chest.  I had my first ever boyfriend, I guess you could call him, last summer.  It was only a month, and we both mutually (thank god) decided it just wasn't really working.  I never told the girls at work; they think I still have never had one.  I can never mention it to them for certain reasons, but on top of that, they also completely and utterly lack the ability to keep secrets.  I, however, do keep them.  One woman told me something she didn't want the others to know, and when I didn't say anything and they found out I had known the whole time, they wanted to know why I didn't tell them.  I suppose I just feel that when someone tells me a story, it's theirs to tell and not mine to share.

Anyway, I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving.  Mine was great except for the fact that I definitely gained 5 lbs and purged every day I was there.  Doing so in a relative's house with people around all the time is awful, and I recommend not doing it...ever.  I've totally done it at my grandparents, too, but moving on.  I much prefer my private, hidden away bathroom at home.  My own personal haven for my twisted mind.  Now I'm going to burn off the pita chips I consumed today.  Whoops :(

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

The melody is in my head

I'm in love with misery, I'm a fan of diamond rings.
Cut me with that shiny thing, tie me down and watch me bleed.
I can liven your wildest dreams, feed your darkest fantasy.
I am here, I'm on my knees, begging for some release.

Cause I am falling in too deep, drowning myself endlessly,
searching for a gentle stream to guide me to a better dream.
And every night in my sleep, I'm waking up to my own screams,
tossing, turning relentlessly, and tearing my last shred of sanity.

The sun has set long ago; the stars are gone, they've gone back home.
I'm screaming everything I know to realize I'm all alone.

But there is a face that haunts my days.
Seeing bloodshot eyes, gazing back at me.
And I cannot sleep, it's frightening me.
I'm wrestling with phantoms in my dreams.

I'm standing here, in a room all alone,
surrounded by mirrors on each and every wall.
I'm searching for the exit, but I can't find the door.
Can't handle my reflection anymore.

And I need you now to comfort me somehow,
whisper soothing words and hold me through the night.
Cause I'm seeing shadows out of the corner of my eye,
and I feel a shiver run down my spine.

And though I'm in love with tragedy, and I'm a fan of wicked things,
it's a flaw in my personality, please someone explain it to me.
I'll sign my name on the dotted line if you really think I've lost my mind.
But before you throw me in a padded room, remember it was you who gave up so soon.

Monday, September 12, 2011


I received a distressing text from a friend of mine today, a girl with whom I spill my heart but have never met.  It's funny sometimes how we can connect better with people that aren't within physical reach. Perhaps it's the physical boundaries that make things easier to say...we can write our emotions without seeing the judgment on the other's face and without needing to answer the difficult questions that we'd rather shrug off and cast aside.  But the problem is that when the nights are lonely and we sit in the dark, it's the friends that are physically around us that we need. The ones that we don't have.  And yet, I wouldn't trade it for the world.

My point, however, was that she informed me that she wanted to kill herself last night.  Words cannot describe how relieved I am that she was able to text me today; she is the one person who I've come to rely on and the only one I can count on to give me strength when I feel alone, though miles away.  It's times like these when I sit and really think about what my life has become because I can sit in my room in the dark, staring at a razor, telling someone not to do it while fantasizing about my own demise.  I know that I am a hypocrite; we all are.  But I don't think that matters.  The fact is that we all face difficult times at different times, and it's up to us to try to help one another when we need it.  Maybe we just need a little guidance.  And as I told her:  When the days are dark, we just need someone to shine a little light.  Because while those bright days are few and far between, they're the ones we need to remember and the ones that make life worth living.

I myself find myself in a confusing predicament.  So often I think about dying, picturing myself driving into a semi on a highway, eyeing a bottle of sleeping pills, or pondering the outcome of pouring nail polish remover down my throat.  None of those sound particularly appealing, but at the same time, I am a curious being.  But I think of how permanent such an action would be, and I can't decide if it's what I truly want.  I think a part of me still holds onto that small sliver of hope that this isn't all that life is about; it will be different one day.  And so, I stand here on a beaten path at a fork in the road:  one leads to death and the other leads to life; and they both look about the same.  Do I want to die or do I just not want to live?  Or is it the other way around?  

For now, I will just continue on with my life until I figure it out.

Friday, September 9, 2011


I have a lot of things to say, but no will to type them at the moment.  So instead, I'll post the little blurb I just wrote, and I hope you enjoy it until tomorrow when I write something else.

Paralyzed, I've lost my way, frightened by the future.
My fear, it grips me and holds me hostage with my hands bound behind me.
I'm chained to a wall in a basement alone, stuck without a key.
Never mind that I'm a captive because the kidnapper was me.

I can hear the sound of a river nearby, flowing ever softly.
The birds are chirping and I know it must be spring all over again
A year has come and gone, nothing has changed; I'm still insane.
So here I hide, fenced in by cement, finding comfort in my pain.

I've heard it said that this is the prime of my life.
If that's true, I don't want to know what's next.

This is what dreams were made for, and this is why the stars are shining
because we all need a little hope to make it through the night.
I'm waiting for my wishes to come true, but my sky is black;
I only hope the stars are still out there for you.

Breathless, I blink the tears away, mixing with the rain.
The clouds are crying with me, the world's heart is breaking in pieces.
People are rushing by me but all I see are nameless, blurry faces,
blending together like a painter's palette, colors lost in traces.

Wise words told me that I'll wish for youth sometime
but that doesn't help when now I wish I was dead.

This is what dreams were made for, and this is why the stars are shining
because we all need a little hope to make it through the night.
I'm waiting for my wishes to come true, but my sky is black;
I only hope the stars are still out there for you.

One day I'll escape the city to find my own beacon,
because these ones aren't working for me.
Maybe I'll fly to Alaska just to see the northern lights, 
so they can work their magic and ignite my life.

And if you hope enough and if you don't give up,
when I fall in endless sleep, I'll ask for a shooting star to bring luck to you.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Swimming in Air

I can't believe I haven't updated in such a long time, and I apologize to anyone who actually cares.  Not a lot has happened in my life that I really can tell you; it's just the same things day after day.  I did take a different daily vitamin than I usually do this morning, on an empty stomach like always, and I must say, I wouldn't recommend it unless you want to start off your day throwing up.  Fortunately, my stomach barely managed to remain where it was, which I was grateful for given that I was en route to work.  That would be an awkward moment in the car...if I'm home, however, then I will probably purposely take it to see if it actually works destroys my stomach.  I've also heard taking a shot of straight cinnamon does the same thing.  I'll test it for you this weekend and let you know.

Throughout my day, though, I couldn't help but notice that I felt like I was walking through water or swimming in air.  Perhaps that's because of my confusion between reality and dreams, but sometimes the days just don't seem real.  Or my head was just too fuzzy. Regardless, it's an odd feeling that I seem to experience every day, and I'm idly wondering when I'll finally wake up. Or do I even want to?  I'm torn between believing life is a brutal existence and utterly pointless and believing life should be valued and enjoyed for its shortness.

What is easier: accepting misery or wishing for something you'll never have?

And here today I was calling someone a Debby Downer at work...he claimed he was just being realistic (which is always what I say after someone accuses me of being a pessimist). I'm such a damn hypocrite.  At least I know it, I suppose.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

A little song I wrote...

...I don't think radios would play this.

Hear me cry, watch me fall through this endless pit I'm in.
Smell my fear, feel my pain amidst the tragedy of today.
There's the voices, can you hear them like me?
Calling softly, yelling loudly, whispering to me.
No, I will not jump.  No, I will not cry.
I cover my ears for I don't want to die.
But the noise, it won't fade; it keeps ringing,
In my head, strange voices are swimming.

Help me, please help me.
I'm falling in too deeply.
Hold me, please hold me,
I'm losing my sanity.

Whether I trek a thousand miles or walk across the street,
it all feels the same when either way I'll be in agony.
Condemn myself to die or succumb to a life with nothing,
a morbid decease or a journey so bleak - a loss or a loss - 
this is my fate.

Laugh at my tears, smile at my pleas as rain drowns my sorrows.
Shrug when I beg, leave when I reach for a helping hand to guide me.
The moon is rising this morning, can you see it?
The sun is retreating as I watch the eastern sky.
I wanted to cry, and I wanted to jump,
For the first time in my life I'm ready to give up.
Blackness comes nearer; it's closing in,
too quickly my vision is growing dim.

Help me, please help me.
I'm slipping down the palisade.
Hold me, please hold me,
I'm failing at this life we made.

Whether I trek a thousand miles or walk across the street,
it all feels the same when either way I'll be in agony.
Condemn myself to die or succumb to a life with nothing,
a morbid decease or a journey so bleak - a loss or a loss -
this is my fate.

Cherish my memories, savour my last moments,
wipe the tears from my eyes and kiss the ones on my cheek.
Perhaps I am dying, but it's you I'll be saving,
and that alone has made my life worth living.
Our dreams have entwined, and you've carried my burden,
shared my nightmares and held your end of the bargain.
I could not be fixed, but you tried anyway,
and for that the sun will return one day.

Whether I trek a thousand miles or walk across the street,
it all feels the same when either way I'll be in agony.
Condemn myself to die or succumb to a life with nothing,
a morbid decease or a journey so bleak - a loss or a loss - 
this is my fate.

Forever my fate.

Thursday, July 28, 2011


I've had a cold for the past few days.  I hate having something stupid like a cold; I'd rather have the flue since that at least makes you lose weight...even though I've been losing it anyway.  My jeans from high school are actually legitimately baggy now.  YAY!

I had soup for dinner tonight and then went out for ice cream, which ultimately brought my caloric intake to nearly 1500!  Tragic.  Therefore, I had to go work out to burn it off for at least an hour.  Instead, when I got home I emptied the entire content of my stomach, soup and all, since I figured that would help...and then worked out for 50 minutes anyway.  Smooth move since I have a sore throat already.  My actions defy logic most of the time.

I'm going to bed early, even though I slept almost 12 hours last night, and hopefully I'll feel a little better tomorrow.  We shall see.  Also, I really really want to go shopping, mainly for jewelry since that can't make me look fat (I hope).  I can't wait until I'm really skinny, if that will ever happen.  Another 30 pounds may do the trick.  Or 20...or 50...

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Rough Mornings

This morning I woke up and felt absolutely terrible, as though I had been hit by a car.  It was probably because I had very little to eat for several days, had only a few greens beans and tons of wine yesterday, and had no water.  Drinking on an empty stomach is never a good idea, but how else would I do it?  I literally had to sit down when I took a shower and rest because I was so exhausted and shaky.  And while it feels terrible, I still want to feel that again...minus the hangover.  There's something really special about feeling miserable from a lack of food because you feel the success in the numbness of your fingertips, the coldness of your body, and the soreness in your legs.  I'll get it again soon.

Moving on, I'm planning on telling the guy I'm "having dinner with on occasion" that I don't want a relationship.  I feel bad, but we're just too different in terms of values.  There's certain things that I think you need to agree on, and if you don't then you're simply not compatible.  And that's how I feel.  Crossing my fingers it goes well...ugh.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

To feed your nightmares

Before I go to sleep...

raindrops on ashes and sharp claws on kittens,
mace covered flowers and beds filled with needles,
specious bright pathways that lead us to darkness,
treacherous sweet dreams turned into nightmares.

sugar coated lies and dear smelling arsenic,
tainted lyrics of lullabies and morbid child rhymes,
long winding roads that end without warning,
musical black knells to remember the dead.

here we dwell on bitter tasting memories,
plagued by the ever discordant reality,
while hoping to find a distant reason to live,
a notion so fruitless, no energy to give.
we lie awake dreaming of a life worth leading,
only to wake the next morning with nothing changing.
day by day we hope, close our eyes, and pray.
wake up and smell the roses; it's the only way.

plant them and reap them  

and then lie beneath them.

I should probably not always write such morbid poems.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Plastic caps that twist, don't snap

I just spend forever trying to open this new eye roller (to diminish dark circles as I look like a zombie) that I bought at the drugstore today.  Okay, it may have been more like a minute or two, but that's still much longer than the ten seconds it should have taken.  Apparently, I was supposed to twist the damn thing to take off the cap.  What kind of plastic cap on a cosmetic product twists instead of snaps off?  Ridiculous...or I'm just trying to justify myself.  The cap obviously isn't idiot proof.

Moving on, I was going to post a poem, but I have an actual dilemma.  See, I've been trying to mentally figure out how long I can pretend that I "want to go slow" with this new guy I've been having dinner with on occasion.  I won't say we're dating because I just can't handle that kind of acknowledgement, BUT eventually, he's going to get sick of me if I continue to stop him from being a typical male.  They always just want one thing, and I feel like I'm always being used.  They'll buy me lots of drinks, and then I wake up, thinking, "shit, what happened?"  Naturally, I don't ask because I don't want to know.  Ignorance is bliss, yes?

I don't like to be touched; it creeps me out.  It probably goes with what I was saying in my previous post.  When anyone touches me on my shoulder, head, etc, etc, I just feel strange, like a tingle or an out of body experience.  I'm not very well connected with my physical body, and I frequently try to pretend like it's not actually mine.  But this poses a problem when starting a relationship with someone.  Constantly being afraid just makes things worse, and can someone truly be alone forever?  Maybe I will be; I don't honestly know.

There's also the problem with my arms having scars up and down them.  Mederma, why haven't you been working your magic?  Mendacious little fucker.  It's hard for me to figure out how someone would react to that kind of thing.  To me, it seems like no big deal, but my thoughts tend not to be in line with other people.  I think it will just be the end of our little fling.  So I guess I'll just enjoy it while it lasts, knowing that it's going to end abruptly.

P.S.  I'm wondering how many people will be playing Quidditch in parking lots tonight.  I don't know when I'll finally drag my ass to a movie theatre, but hopefully everyone has smiling faces tomorrow.  Oh, and I'm going to try to incorporate my GRE words into my posts periodically because that's the only way I'll learn my vocab before the exam...most of the words are absolutely ridiculous...WAIT!

I have a word for that:  onerous (in my erudite opinion).

Tuesday, July 12, 2011


I just had my period for 1.5 days.  It's over now.  Phew!  I really don't enjoy having it, but I know that I shouldn't complain when I get it only occasionally and never have it for more than a couple of days.  It's a natural part of life, but I tend to have a strong dislike for these things.  I don't like eating, sleeping, drinking water, breathing...they're all just necessities that seem to get in my way.  Unfortunately, I try to go without these things for as long as I can or minimize them as much as possible (and yes, that includes breathing), but it never ends well.  I try to eat meager amounts until I binge, I try to be an insomniac until I'm hallucinating and falling asleep while walking, I ignore drinking water until my brain feels like it's bleeding because of dehydration, and I try to take shallow breaths or hold it until I eventually am forced to take a deep one.

I know it seems strange that these things bother me, but I can't help it.  I just feel weak and, well, so human when I have to sleep or have to drink or have to breathe.  Why can't I be better, stronger, and not so ordinary?  I could never complain to someone that I'm hungry, like a girl at work is always doing, because I want to have the strength to ignore that irritating (and yet, morbidly pleasant) rumbling and burning in my stomach.  It's a matter of mental strength, a battle of will.  If I want to believe that I'm not hungry, then damn it, I'm going to convince myself of it.  I think I do a decent job convincing myself of things that aren't real or true; that's part of the reason why my thoughts terrify me sometimes.  I worry that eventually I will convince myself of something that is terrible or will be the death of me.  Until then...

I'll post another poem soon, by the way.  The last one I literally typed in 5 minutes out of sheer boredom, but I'd like to write another one that I actually edit and check for some kind of flow.  I have a penchant for poetry when I'm lonely at night...there's a lot stored on my computer in the most random of places.

Monday, July 11, 2011

when my mind is reeling and words are seeping

We bask in the sunlight to hide from the night
We flip the switch to turn on the lights
We run from the shadows and flee from dark corners
We cry at our funerals and join Death's mourners.

When do we learn our inevitable fate,
to bask not in light but accept it's too late.
Time won't stand still and we continue to die
Dying each day, why be scared and why cry.

I've lived my life and regret everything
I think on the past and would change anything
I'm still searching for the day that I wake from this dream
hoping that my life was not all that it seems.

These empty years, I wait for a different day
one where the sun rises in the west and sets in the east
when the cock crows at dusk and the birds sing in the moonlight
and yet I wait and I wait and I continue to count
as the clock keeps ticking at the same dulling rate.

I can't move mountains or walk on water,
I can't leap from a bridge just to fly to shore,
I can't fix the peace or stop world wars,
but I can ponder and think and mentally wonder,
creating great visions inside of my head
to give my life meaning in the real one's stead.

One day I will wake up and the world will be different,
the spitting image of what I've dreamt it to be.
That day will be beautiful and forever to me
as I lie in my bed, tailor made in dimension
and three and three more feet under.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011


There's a girl I work with who is always telling me about how insecure she is, how hard it is to come to terms with no longer being skinny, and wanting to watch what she eats.  She's very open.  And yet, she tends to drink regular pop, eats french fries and candy, and all in all ordinary meals.   I can't speak for what she does outside of work, but I get the impression that she is merely insecure like many girls are without taking that next step down a path of self destruction.  I think a lot of girls are self conscious, but when push comes to shove, they continue on with their lives regardless.  And then there are those of us who let it rule our lives and take extreme actions to fix our problems.  We're the people who lack that filter, the one that tells you what you're doing is wrong.  Eventually, you make it so far down the road that nothing is too dangerous or too unhealthy because you just don't care anymore.  I hit that point a long time ago, and sometimes I forget that most people aren't like me.  Most people place some sort of value on their lives, don't joke about dying early, and worry if they sense their body is sending signals that it needs some medical attention.

I go to work, drink excessive amounts of caffeine, have a granola bar for lunch, and continue on with my duties.  I understand being insecure, and I sympathize (inwardly) with my coworker, though I would never tell her that I am insecure as well.  I'm a very closed off person, and if I can prevent anyone from thinking that I could potentially be moderately abnormal and have a minor problem, then I will do so.  However, it's still odd listening to her tell me things because I can't help but think, "Well, at least you don't have a full blown eating disorder, cut yourself, and are suicidal."  Naturally, I hold my tongue.  Not that I have/do all of those things...or I'm merely in denial.

I just have to wonder why some of us behave differently with regards to the same issues.  Why do I feel the need to starve myself or purge or work out endlessly when someone else can accept themselves and move on?  Why do I pull out a razor because I'm lonely, depressed, angry with myself, or because it's been too long when someone else would merely call a friend for comfort?  And why do I fantasize about crashing my car into a guardrail when someone else takes precautions to make sure such a thing doesn't happen?  We're all different, but does that make any of us wrong?  I don't know.  I think one of my biggest concerns at the moment is the person I'm interested is going to see my arms sooner or later, and I'm terrified of his reaction.  I'm assuming our casual relationship will end abruptly as a result because I'm realistic; people don't want to deal with someone else's problems like that when could just as easily cut the person off and move on to someone less complicated and less effort.  Hence, why I would never tell anyone.

It's a lonely world we live in.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

binge (n.): failure

I binged today (and purged since those go hand in hand), and I'm trying to convince myself that one day won't turn me into an elephant.  Key works there:  trying.  I'm hoping that if I work out tomorrow and don't eat so much, then things will fall into place a little better.  I did well all week, but arriving home from work hours earlier than normal really cramped my style.  One good thing about working is that I'm so busy and forget to eat for extended periods of time.  My diet consists of a protein bar while at work and consuming mass amounts of coffee.  It's been working well, but today I had a shit ton of cookie cake, peanut butter, toast...need I continue?

Moving on, I'm hoping that I can get my act together here.  Also, my parentals are out of town for the next week, which means that if my self control improves that I can basically not eat dinner all next week without questions.  Personally, that sounds fucking phenomenal. How great would it be if I was actually skinny when they got back?

Another good thing is that my birthday should pass by without event.  My mini celebration with family was a few days ago, and of course, the day was an absolute disaster.  It was significantly better than last year when my mom threatened to throw me in a mental institution, yelled at me, and then proceeded to take away my presents.  But that's in the past...and it won't happen this year since she's all the way across the country.  Therefore, I'm crossing my fingers that things go well, and I don't have to dread the day like I normally do.

P.S. one of these days I need to weigh myself, but I'm too afraid...maybe I'll do it while wearing a lot of clothing and holding a large textbook and go from there?...I just don't want to be disappointed even though that's guaranteed....fml.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

A Shitty Day

Before I go to bed (and yes, it's only 9pm), I just felt like briefly venting about my terrible day.  Since my family decided to have a mini birthday dinner for me today, I honestly should have known my day was going to be tragic.  My birthday, and anything that is related to it, usually causes problems and is cursed, I swear.  (So I'm dreading the actual day and keeping it a secret just in case).  Basically, I got chewed out at work for something that wasn't my fault.  I was so upset that I cried, which is embarrassing all in itself.  My coworkers felt bad for me, and my boss did a little bit even though he was the one gnawing on my emotions.  I'm just hoping tomorrow will be better.  It's unfortunate that I have to deal with the aftereffects and put in a lot of extra labor, hoping that my efforts will end up proving that the mistake that occurred ends up being negligible...but I'm cursed sooo...

Monday, June 13, 2011


I received the greatest of all compliments a few days ago (Saturday, to be exact).  My mom told me that I was "getting really skinny".  Wow.  I almost can't believe it, even typing it now.  Unfortunately, as amazing as that felt, I am still waiting for the day that I'm actually really skinny.  Because if you think about it, she could simply, and probably is, be comparing me to the whale that I was before.  So instead of being a whale, I'm more like a dolphin or maybe a small porpoise...Either way, I'm still large.

Moving on, something has been troubling me a little lately, and that's my increasing paranoia.  Everyone, I'm sure (though I don't know) has moments where they are paranoid, but I wonder sometimes how much is truly normal.  I always assume that when something bad happens, it's my fault, or if people are speaking in hushed voices, it's because they're talking about me.  But I think that's normal.  What mildly concerns me is the intense anxiety that I feel when, say, I'm boiling something or watching this vacuum filtration system (if you know what that shit) at work and imaging all the ways it's about to explode, splash all over me, shatter, and kill me.  I think the same thing when I'm in a car, driving over a bridge, on an airplane, etc.  I never used to have these little visions, but now I can't stop them.

Also, my dreams are always chaotic, creepy, and violent.  Flashes of horror cross my mind, and they don't go away no matter how hard I try to think of something else.  Eventually they fade and I fall asleep or else I am plagued by terrific nightmares the entire night.  I'm not sure why these thoughts overtake me, and I have no idea how to get them to go away.  Is this just normal, too?  Then again, I am the person who envisions herself offing herself on a daily basis...not that I'm planning on doing that (so no one worry yet), but the image itself does cross my mind quite frequently.  Like I said, I can't control my thoughts, and they're rather disturbing.

At least I'm not hearing voices.

Thursday, June 9, 2011


I think it's nearing that time of the month again because I've been bloated and bingeing.  For some reason, I always ALWAYS binge several times the week before I get my period.  Then, when I'm on my period, I have practically zero appetite.  In the end, I end up having a shitty fat week and then get back on track.  But I really wish that, for once, I wouldn't binge repeatedly.  It was my dad's birthday today so I had cake, steak, chips...need I say more?  I now have rolls.

Hopefully, I can turn this around and begin working out again tomorrow.  Also, I need to start sleeping...but I've been getting 6hours consistently every night, which isn't necessarily good for me.  Therefore, I'm going to inform you all that I had better eat less, exercise more, and finally sleep tomorrow so that in my next post I will have good news to tell you...


Sunday, June 5, 2011

Popping pills

Yesterday, after two days of consecutive bingeing, I had the genius idea to take 6 laxatives.  The recommended dose is 1-3 in a day, but after taking 4, I decided to pop 2 more...just in case.  I admit that I was mildly concerned for the aftereffects because one can't really predict when, and to what degree, the little pink tablets will take effect.  For me, my stomach began churning when I woke up in the morning.  I fortunately made it through church without too many problems (though with great discomfort), and I managed to make it to my private bathroom in time when I got home.  They worked wonders, but my god, do they slaughter your stomach sometimes!  Painful.  Not overwhelmingly so by any means, but my legs felt numb for a while.

I'm still suffering enduring the effects now after a several hour long hiatus, and I'm crossing my fingers that I will be fine tomorrow since I have to work.  I love the feeling of not having shit in me, even though I know it doesn't help with weight loss, but it's definitely inconvenient when you have things to do.  To anyone considering the use of laxatives, I recommend you don't start because they're addicting.  Kind of like all the other destructive things I do; I don't recommend any of them.  Sure, I still do them, write about them, and sometimes congratulate myself on them, but if I were honest with myself, then I would probably go back in time and stop myself from beginning my own personal self destruction.  Unfortunately, I don't know when it began...

I don't think there was ever a set day or event that caused it.  Judging by my actions as a child, I think it was only a matter of time before I lost it.  When I first began not eating, I don't think I was really even doing it to lose weight.  It was just one meal at a time, or not wanting to eat while at work or in public, until slowly it morphed into something else entirely.

People say you never know what you've got until it's gone, but in this case, I think I never knew what I had until I had it all...and it's destroying me.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Burning it off

I just had a hot dog, and I'm trying to figure out how many calories that entailed...let's see:  hot dog, bun, onions, relish, mustard...?  I give up, so I'm guessing, it was at least 500 calories.  Sadly, I also had fruit for breakfast (100 cals), a protein bar for lunch (190 cals), and more fruit and carrots after work (250 cals?), so that brings me to *gasps*  1040 calories.  That's terrible!  Fortunately, I'm going to work out in about five minutes, and I'm planning on an hour on the elliptical and then weights for at least 30 minutes.  HOPEFULLY, that repairs some damage.  Why can't I just be less squishy?

In all honesty, I think I'm nearly as small (and I use that word loosely) as I was in high school.  I've been wearing jeans from my senior year that are baggy, but I think they were baggy then as well.  I remember distinctly that they weren't baggy when I bought them, but when I stopped eating, they turned into trousers.  It's odd that even now that I'm losing weight, I feel like a giant.  I don't think I ever won't feel huge, and I think I will always have it programmed in my mind that I am a whale.

My coworkers already noticed that I apparently "don't eat" within my first week of working.  In my defense, however, I always eat lunch while I'm there...sure, it's coffee and a protein bar, but last time I checked a protein bar was in fact food.  Therefore, I eat.  I'm not sure why I'm the one who gets hounded for this when plenty of other people sometimes skip lunch.  Perhaps, I'm just the most consistent and clearly have an intense love/addiction to caffeine, but I still eat.  When one of the guys asked me one time (joking) if I was anorexic or bulimic, I laughed, said no, and explained that if I was then I would be skinny...sad life.  I am in no one category so it's a good thing I don't like being categorized, but why can't I at least get the advantage of not being a drooping body of lard?

Life sucks.  Why do we put up with it every day?

Saturday, May 14, 2011


Have you ever felt like you were drunk without a drop of alcohol touching your tongue?  I swear I have been for the past hour.  It happens to me sometimes that I'll suddenly feel a little dizzy before my mind goes fuzzy, my vision slightly delayed, and the world seems like it's turning upside down.  My skin usually starts to sweat, my arms grow weak, and I swear that my heart is pounding.  When you're sipping a special drink and this happens, you think, "Yes, my (enter alcohol of your choice) is working!"  But when you're simply sitting on a piano bench, struggling to see the keys, you think, "Holy shit, what is this?!"  And then, you continue to attempt to play, pretending like it's normal to feel like you're about to fall to the floor.

If you're me, you might decide that you drank to much water or ate too much food and a trip to the bathroom is just the right cure.  That's what I did, and while my head still hurts, at least part of my discomfort is gone.  I'm sure that was not good for me, but, like I've said a million times, when do I ever do anything that's good for me?

...although I did go tanning today for the first time in a very long time AND I got my nails touched up.  They're gold now, by the way, and I love them.  Also, I thought I'd mention that yesterday? Friday the 13th?  Yeah, I was definitely jinxed because everything I did was chaos.  I work in a lab, and I was convinced, at one point, that when I turned on a sink, I was going to somehow start a fire.  That's how disastrous my day was.  Fortunately, no fire was started, but don't get me started on all my other troubles.  I blame the date.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

A slightly better morning

...but shitty day.  Fortunately, I didn't wake up with the incessant need to hurl the contents of my stomach into the toilet this morning, but my mouth has felt terrible still as a result.  I don't know if the acid did something or if my mouth is just dry...I think my teeth or rotting, though, because they're extremely sensitive and hurt sometimes when I chew gum.

Moving on, I worked out today, so I'm proud.  I ate about 900 calories (could definitely improve that number) and burned only about 500 at the gym.  I really need to counteract my previous week's bingeing spree because I look like a cow.  I swear that the cows along the road on my way to work are mooing in irritation because they think I've escaped the pasture.  Honestly, I just hate feeling like a man.  Girls are supposed to be dainty not beastly, so what am I?  Some odd kind of man flower?  I would be frightened if I saw me...oh wait, I do, and I'm petrified.  A woman at work told me that I have "the prettiest eyes," which is lovely to hear, but it's my only redeeming quality.

I would really like, also, to move out of my parents' house so that I can wallow in my misery ini peace.  They keep trying to get me to socialize, despite my preference to remain by myself.  For some reason, it is beyond them how people desire different things in the world and how their spawn could possibly not be an exact replica of their personalities. I sound extremely bitter, I know, and perhaps I am, but I want you to know that I really do love my parents.  But when they assume that I am one way when I am not, it irks me...such as when my mom describes me as a "bubbly, happy person."  Do I really seem cheerful to you?  No, probably not, but she's not supposed to know that.  Either I hide things really well and doesn't pay attention or I truly don't know myself at all.  I don't know which is worse.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Painful beginnings

I began my day by purging this morning.  I woke up from my long 2 hour "nap" last night (or rather, this morning), and I was so nauseous that I had to vomit.  As expected, my day sucked and I felt like shit.  So I'm going to bed, and should have gone several hours ago to make up for my lack of sleep last night.  It was all kind of a blur, of those nights when I put off tomorrow by remaining awake and thus suffering the following day.  I don't know why I do it, and I know I'm doing it now.  I guess I just know how much I don't want to wake up, but sadly, I can't stop time.  Wish I could.  Where's magic when you need it?

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Working Girl :)

My first week went great!  My brain has been cramming with excess information, and my training was accelerated so that I was essentially learning four weeks of material in three days because I'm taking over for someone whose last day was Thursday.  It's really a good thing that I learn quickly, or I would be fucked.  Next week, however, is going to be the true test to how much information I was able to grasp and understand from my scribbled notes.  Honestly, I think I'm going to be fine...but we shall see!  Everyone is so nice, too, which is really fortunate.  And I still can't believe that I'm truly a college graduate and out in the real world.  I may be the youngest at work, but I already feel old!  No more school is a strange feeling, even if I am planning on going back to school in a year or two to get my doctorate.

I bought two pairs of new shoes yesterday that I can wear to work, and they're adorable.  I bought Sperrys and Vans, which kind of seem like an odd combination...they're adorable though.  In case anyone was confused, I work in a lab so the dress code is much more casual.  It's not sweatpants and tshirts attire, but it's not formal business wear either.  I can just wear what I always wear, as long as I have closed toed shoes.  And the fact that the labs are freezing is nice because I won't look like so much of a freak for wearing long sleeves in summer...SCORE!

Alsoooo, I love working 40 hours a week because my diet has already drastically improved.  Since I'm working all day and incredibly self conscious eating in front of other people, I just get by with lots of black coffee (they already know I'm a coffee addict after three days at work...) and a special K protein bar.  Hopefully, if I keep this up, I will actually break through my usual rut.  I also need to get a gym membership at some point, but I tend to do worse when I'm working out since it's harder to not eat when you're burning calories.  You can also eat more, I suppose, but somehow I must overcompensate.  Currently, though, I'm just dreading Easter.  I won't be getting an Easter basket filled with candy, but my mom did buy chocolate bunnies from this phenomenal local chocolatier.  Must resist...

Now I'm going to listen to music, clean my room (maybe), and draw out my ideas for my tattoo...and go to the epically long Easter Vigil mass

Monday, April 18, 2011

First Day

Today is my first day at my new job!  I'm really nervous, and I would type more but I'm about to go out the door...I'm looking forward to finally being busy all again because then I won't have so much time to do nothing (but eat).

Crossing my fingers that all goes well in my transition from college to the real world...I'll update later ;)

Saturday, April 9, 2011


It feels as though I haven't updated in forever, but I suppose it really hasn't been that long after all.  There hasn't been much going on in my life other than that I've slowly gained at least 5 pounds recently due to excess bingeing.  This is why I need to be busy because hanging around my house all day, especially alone, is a recipe for disaster.  Therefore, I'm getting back on track.

I also whipped out my razor yesterday again after about a three week hiatus...the only reason being that I didn't have paper towels around my house like I do in my apartment at school.  Unfortunately, I solved this problem by putting a razor in the shower.  Even I admit that this is a bad plan because it makes things too easy and tempting, and yet I'm doing it against my better judgement.  But isn't that what we all do?  Constantly causing ourselves harm even though we know we shouldn't?  I still have no idea what I'm going to do when the weather warms up.  I have scars everywhere and can only barely get away with 3/4 length sleeves.  I'm trying not to think about that so, moving on...I'm going to read a few poems by my favorite poet (Edgar Allan Poe) and then go to bed.  This is probably going to lend itself to bizarre dreams, but I tend to have nightmares anyway so it's nothing new.  The other morning I actually woke up with a throat that felt like I had swallowed razor blades; I think I must have been crying in my sleep all night.  It would make sense because I remember that my dad had died in my dream.  It was terrible.

And on another side note before I finish my post, I'm planning on getting a new car this week if I get the job I've been going after...five interviews later.  I'm fixed on a used mini couper with a manual transmission.  I love driving, and the interior of a mini feels like a race car.  Amazing.

Friday, April 1, 2011


I finally worked out for the first time in forever yesterday, and I am so sore.  It's a good feeling because I know that I actually did something productive for once, but it's also difficult to convince myself to get my lazy ass off the couch to go work out again today.  But, since I have absolutely nothing else to do with my time and in order to prevent a binge since I have the house to myself until this afternoon, I am planning on going to the gym.  It's a struggle, though.

Also, I'm a bit out of practice, but I'm about to be shooting another poor guy down in the dating arena.  I mentioned to him yesterday that I'm not looking for anything and am not exactly a "commitment" kind of person...being a typical boy, he said that was fine and he wasn't either...lies.  See, when I say that I'm not a "commitment" person, I'm really saying that I never see the same person more than once or twice.  I don't like for people to get too close, and I don't like to be touched.  I don't want some guy to hug me or put his arm around me or tell me he thinks I'm beautiful.  It just all makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable, and when I say so, if I do, then they inevitably ask why, which just irritates me.  I merely shake my head, say that it just does, and distract myself.  I just kind of wish that, for once, a guy that I meet would be fine with just being friends and not see me as a piece of meat or arm candy.  But, for those of you who have seen When Harry Met Sally, it just isn't possible for a guy and a girl to be friends.  One of them will have feelings for the other, and that in itself throws off the entire relationship.  It's inevitable, it always happens, and it sucks every time.

Of course, I know that once there is a guy who isn't interested, I will want them to be.  Funny how that works...I'm going to go workout now and burn off the yogurt I ate a few hours ago.

P.S.  I hate ABSOLUTELY DETEST April Fool's Day, so please, for my sanity, no one try anything...though I'd have to give you props if you could via mere blog comments, but then I'd get pissed shortly after acknowledging your creativity sooo...

Thursday, March 17, 2011


Well, I will officially be a college graduate this weekend after commencement.  I supposes I technically am a graduate now, but it won't feel quite so real until I have the diploma in hand.  The importance of graduation is kind of lost on me, and I honestly don't want to be forced to sit for hours listening to boring people babble on about boring things...but I don't have a choice anyway...parents are sentimental.  I've always assumed I would graduate from college, and so it doesn't seem like a great accomplishment to me but more like just another step in life.  Plus, there's the fact that I'm planning on applying for grad schools in December to get my Ph.D. (in chemistry, in case you're curious).

Finishing finals, though, was a great feeling, and the stress of it all was the reason for my lack of posts recently.  It's been really strange not studying for the past two days, but I'll have to begin studying for the GRE soon anyway.  Also, I will finally be enjoying life, I suppose, by actually socializing with people instead of cooping myself up in a coffee shop with a giant textbook.  I bought a pretty new scarf today, and I'm going to the zoo tomorrow.  Very excited.

I'm disappointed that I definitely gained about three pounds during finals because of the excess studying.  My usual lack of nutrition was destroying my frazzled brain, and it (unfortunately) needed more nourishment than a bagel.  But I'm trying to get back on track, and I think I'm almost there.  My mom agrees that I should lose at least 10 more pounds, which is kind of nice that she doesn't think I'm being ridiculous.  Although, she sees it more as I want to lose more weight for my love of fashion and sense of style.  I admit that I wear an obnoxious amount of layers, so I want my body to be small so that I look cuter when I'm draped in sweaters and scarves.

And before I forget, Happy St. Patty's Day!  I keep forgetting, and I don't plan on celebrating because I don't like overly crowded bars like they will be today.  Plus, there's the fact that I refuse to wear green for the sake of a holiday; any other day of the year, I love to wear green because it brings out the color of my green eyes.  But I don't like my standard wardrobe to be attributed to a holiday.  As much as I love the adorableness of little shamrocks...enjoy your green beer though, everyone!

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

When Friends Become Strangers

There are times when you haven't seen a friend in a while and it's just like old times.  Those are always great moments, and I think that's what makes a truly great friend.  Then there are times when you see a friend after a while, and you don't know what to say.  Sometimes you feel as though you've never met them at all, and it's only their face that's recognizable.  I've been feeling like that with nearly all my so called "friends" (or rather, acquaintances) lately, including my roommate.  How can I feel further apart from someone that I live with?

I saw her when I was studying today, and it felt so strange.  I didn't feel like I knew her at all, or maybe it's really the other way around.  I've changed a lot, or at least I've let my past and my thoughts consume my life.  I've bottled myself up inside so much that I no longer have anything to say, for fear of spilling anything too personal, and she never asks me anything about my day anyway.  And perhaps that's part of the problem that's caused our drifting apart as well.  I don't know that she's necessarily had to deal with people as, well, "screwed up" as I am, and her life is much more stable than my own.  I can't help but wonder sometimes if she notices something is wrong or not because I always think I'm more secretive than I actually am.  People always figure things out in the end, as much as we try to keep things hidden.

But my point was just how strange it is to look at the face of someone who used to be a friend and feel no connection.  It's almost as though you want to cock your head to side and say, "Huh, you look familiar."  That would be rude, of course, since you know each other, but I swear it feels like a dream rather than reality.  Then again, everything in my life seems more like a dream (or a nightmare)...which is why I really want to get that tattoo I've mentioned...

Monday, March 7, 2011

F**kin' Perfect - Pink

I love this song, and I wish I could watch the video on youtube...but after watching it twice and ending up cutting myself as a result, I decided that I really can't.  It's kind of sad that the video is just too triggering for me, but what can I do?  So I have it playing in a separate tap on my browser...still a little tempted but manageable.  I think.  I'll let you know tomorrow because the night is young.

Anyway, I've been addicted to UDF soft serve lately, and it has become a staple in my diet.  It's a good thing it's only a dollar and fat free and substituted as one of my meals.  I only have it at night if I'm craving something sweet and jut really want it, but I don't have it every day at least.  I greatly wish I could just not eat sweet things, but I have a such a sweet tooth.  I also eat muffins a lot...what kind of psychotic disordered person am I?!  It's weird that I'm so fanatical about losing weight and being hungry yet I eat muffins.  But here's the thing:  I only eat good ones that I know the calorie content of, and it's usually my meal for the day.  Sad but true and ridiculously unhealthy.  It's no wonder I feel like shit most of the time because I don't have any protein in my diet.  One of my classmates commented that I never seem to eat because we're always studying together at Panera, and I only eat muffes, yogurt parfaits, or a bagel (if I've been good, haven't eaten yet that day, and it's dinner time), and it takes me about 4 hours to eat any of the above.  I can't help but wonder if other patrons look at me and think I'm a freak or clearly have a problem...I guess it could be obvious, but it's just such habit to eat obnoxiously slowly that I don't even think about it.  Sometimes I'm too self conscious to eat in public because I know people will stare at me (but pretend not to be) strangely.  I'm especially self conscious when eating Starbursts because I eat each one in four bites.  One of my friends joked that the Starburst was just too big of a bite, but most people just choose not to comment.

Tomorrow I turn in my last lab report of the quarter, and I'm hoping to have it done early so I can reward myself with some quality Starbucks.  I'm thinking I'll have a low fat muffin tomorrow for lunch/dinner.  Mmmm.  I'm in a shockingly good mood right now...perhaps because my jeans were so huge on me today that they felt like sweatpants?

Friday, March 4, 2011


I'm sitting in my room, feeling my stomach painfully rumbling, my limbs tingling, and my head burning...I know that I'm really really hungry, but I can't make dinner.  You see, my roommate is out in the living room, and yesterday I know she discovered that I ate some of her cereal so now I'm terrified to face her.  I know it's stupid, and she's probably not even mad or even cares but I do.  So when I got home for the day, after having some starbursts and stuffed grape leaves throughout the day, I immediately hid in my room.  And here I am, desperately wishing I could eat something and settling for a few sticks of sugarless gum.  I just know that I'm going to wake up feeling like shit tomorrow, but I guess I should just be grateful that I'll be losing more weight than I would if I had a 200 calorie dinner.  It just sucks that I actually wanted to eat something, you know?  Ow, my head is pounding and I can't focus on typing, so I'm just going to leave this post incredibly short and update once I can properly function.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Beauty and Pain

My mom visited me yesterday (Wednesday), and I'm torn between flattery and irritation, as always, by her comments.  She told me that she loves how experiencing things with me because people automatically treat me differently because of how I look.  An elderly man, for example, came up and told us that he hopes that our boyfriends/husbands understand and appreciate how beautiful we are, etc, etc., which was really sweet, but I always feel awkward when told I'm beautiful.  And of course, then there's the lingering stares or glances that people give you, thinking that it won't be noticeable, but when everyone does it at the same time or as soon as you walk into a room, you suddenly think, "Is there something on my face?" or "Is there toilet paper on my shoe?"  I always subtly double check myself, automatically self conscious and confused.  Perhaps I should feel complimented and grateful, but I just can't.  I don't like feeling like I'm constantly in the spotlight when all I want to do is shrink within myself and be left alone.  And yet...I can't live without the attention either.

This is one of those times when my posts are contradictory:  I tell you how I'm fat, ugly, a waste of space, and yet here I'm complaining about people staring at me.  The problem is that I, myself, am confused.  I suppose I have to look at my face and accept that it looks decent as a fact, but the rest of my body is atrocious and my mind is simply fucked up.  I think there's a quote somewhere about how beauty is always linked with darkness or something like that, and I don't think there's been a truer statement.  People who are pretty are either a) total bitches because they know they're pretty or b) unable to come to terms with it and hoping that people see something deeper for once (which they never do).  I'm part of the latter, and as a result, I can't help but think that my appearance is all I have because that's all that other people see.  So why would they care about what's inside?  The answer?  They wouldn't, and I have yet to meet someone to prove me wrong.

Maybe this explains a bit why my left arm is throbbing from last night, and my right arm is now suffering as well.  I get so tired of trying to live up to this perfection that people seem to think I have, especially when perfection is purely an impossible feat.  Being a disaster, on the other hand, is very doable, and I'm doing a fantastic job of it.  Maybe, in addition to trying to connect this body with my mind, I'm trying to prove that I am, in fact, not perfect.  When will people stop commenting on superficial things and actually tell me something I want to hear?  I think my favorite compliment would be someone telling me that I'm witty or funny or sarcastic...something that deals with my personality.

Not going to hold my breath on that won't even kill me anyway.  Pointless.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

A new low?

Today I purged a lean cuisine.  Yes, you read that correctly...a lean cuisine.  Did I binge before?  No.  Was I stuffed?  No.  Was I still hungry and my stomach could have easily growled?  Yes.  So why did I do it?  No idea.

I have to admit that it's incredibly difficult purging when your stomach is so empty to begin with.  Yesterday, I ate a sweet potato and a bagel (with cream cheese), and today I had a granola bar, fruit and yogurt parfait, and then the lean cuisine.  So I definitely wouldn't say that my stomach was particularly bursting by any means.  But sometimes you just really crave that feeling of ultimate misery, of hovering over the toilet with your fingers shoved down your throat, mentally telling yourself that you need to do it just one more time...repeatedly.  I still got that sick satisfaction from it, sans guilt since I didn't actually binge.  And I told myself that it was good for me because even if it was just a lean cuisine, getting rid of food is better than keeping it in, right?...okay, don't answer that...

And that beautiful gap between the legs?  Almost there.  If I stand with just my toes together, which I tend to do, then I have the gap.  But sadly, if I stood with my heels clicked together, then it's not quite there yet.  It's sad that I only feel like I'd be satisfied once it's there    as if no one should ever be content with their bodies unless they have that gap.  It's a ridiculous sentiment if I look at it logically, but when do I ever do such a thing?

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

The Grass Is Always Greener

You know how the saying goes...the grass is always greener on the other side.  We all think it, and we all think that our own lives are the hardest of everyone's.  But I hope that everyone is acutely aware that that's bullshit.  Unfortunately, people are ignorant and selfish and too caught up in their own lives to believe that other people have problems, too.  I encountered this very situation today:

My roommate complains about her practice schedule (athletics) quite frequently, which is fine because we all need something to complain about, but when I mentioned that I have a huge 2 hour chemistry exam (graduate level actually) on Saturday morning and then an (impossible) pchem lab report due on Monday followed by another impossible 2 hour chemistry exam Thursday, she told me she would rather take the exam.  To each their own, I guess, but it was the way she said it and her words surrounding the statement that blew me away.  She informed me that she would rather be mentally tired than physically.  Fuck that.  Here's the thing, I get that she has practice all the time and it's difficult, excruciating, and painful...I know this because I did it for the first two and a half years of college as well so I'm not ignorant.  But she has never had a four hour chemistry midterm (not even the final exam), has never spent 8 hours studying in a single day only to find that you still don't understand what the hell is going on and could have just not studied at all and ended with the same result, has never spent an entire night without sleep, or spent more nights in the library or classroom than in her own bed.

I would never say her life is easy because it's not.  Being a varsity athlete is hard, and injuries are frequent and miserable.  But I think it's extremely unfair for her to judge me like that and to imply that I have it better.  And it's not just her, it's anyone.  We should never believe that the grass really is greener or that someone else's problems are less than our own.  We all have different problems, and we all lead different lives.  And at the end of the day when I empathize with her about her back being sore, I don't think it's fair that I get no response in return when I mention that my brain feels like it's bleeding (literally) because I've been studying for more than 12 hours for a subject that most people struggle with in high school.  And my brain isn't going to rest because then I have a lab report, another exam, then another lab report, then five finals (three of which are chemistry).

Funny how when I feel about to explode at her, I just mutter, "I hate my life," and she laughs.  She thought I was joking.

And as a little disclaimer, I like my roommate a lot; this is just a rant because my day has been shit enough as it is.  It's human nature to be selfish, which is why I don't like most people.  Just try to remember as you go about your day and complain as people all do that you shouldn't try to make your problems "outdo" other people's.  We all deserve a release; I just wish someone would listen to me for once.

Sunday, February 20, 2011


I never considered myself the type to want a tattoo, but over time my views on a lot of things has changed quite drastically.  A large part of me just went along with whatever my parents told me, and I didn't form very many opinions on my own.  I used to always seek the approval of others, never wearing anything too "different."  Now, however, I've had a lot of time to try to find my own personal self and thoughts on life.  Unfortunately, my thoughts are rather dark, cynical, and in sharp contrast to my parents view on life.  My clothes, in my opinion, are much more fashion forward, and I love to wear things that just make you look and think, "Wow, that's different" (in a good way).  If I choose to wear heels or sunglasses at 7am, who cares?

Before I stray too far off topic and start going on about fashion, which I could do for hours, I wanted to mention what kind of tattoo I wanted.  Granted, I won't get it until I'm employed full time, as a little treat, and I won't be telling anyone.  It's very personal to me, and it will be in a place that no one would see.  Because honestly, while I'm all for independence, I also understand professionalism, and if I want to be a CEO (dreaming big haha) or make it somewhere in a corporate environment, then I don't want any visible ink.  Of course, there's also just the fact that I like to keep things to myself...

I want it to say, "All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream," by Edgar Allan Poe.  He's by far my favorite writer, and I have a word document saved with quotes by him.  It suits my own take on life, as I feel like I'm never real and always wandering through life with my head in the clouds, even if it's storming up there most of the time.  Reality confuses me, after all.  The placement of the tattoo, I think, would be great on my right (or left, but probably right) hip, rather low.  I'd also want it in some kind of script so that, if someone saw it, they wouldn't be able to read it in two seconds.  If I wanted someone to read it, then I would let them spend time doing so or tell them what it said myself...which is why I kind of debated having it professionally translated to German...but it's a quote so I don't know if that's really appropriate...


Thursday, February 17, 2011


Music plays such a key role in my life.  When I'm feeling down, I listen to something soft, with sad words, and a soothing melody.  When I'm feeling energized (or want to be), I listen to rap or some form of upbeat pop song (but nothing "bubbly" because that's not my style).  When I'm doing homework or cleaning my room, I tend to listen to Enya or instrumental music...I try not to listen to something with lyrics when doing homework because accidentally mixing a song lyric into your answers would be awkward.  And of course, I have my "go to" music that I could just listen to whenever.  I have a favorite band, and there isn't a single song of theirs that I don't love...which is rare but their style suits me.  I don't know why I'm too timid to list my favorite artists, but it just feels too personal.  That's why I'm glad I have an ipod shuffle so people can't see what I'm listening to.

But I can't help but wonder sometimes if it's my mood that chooses what songs I feel like listening to or if it's the song that puts me in the the age old question of which came first:  the chicken or the egg?  I honestly don't know.  I do know that music amplifies whatever I'm feeling, but now I beg the question of you...

Music or Mood?

Monday, February 14, 2011

[Insert colorful word of choice] Valentine's Day

Oh, Valentine's Day, you are an utterly pointless holiday.

I'm sure many people get depressed when they're single on Valentine's Day, but to be honest, I'm kind of indifferent (to being single, I mean...I have strong opinions on every other matter regarding this day).  Being single on February 14th doesn't bother me since, well, I've always been single anyway.  What bothers me is the purely superficial, materialistic, fake, and just plain dumb dedication to a day that was never founded on anything other than Hallmark wanting to make some money.  Okay, maybe there was a St. Valentine and there could be some historical basis, but it's not like Christmas or Easter where people actually acknowledge it.  Instead, it's as though the "holiday" arose out of thin air, and what good is it anyway?  When you were little, you had to bring cards to school for everyone in class, even though you knew that some of the ones you received were merely obligatory and would not have found their way onto your desk if the giver actually had the choice.  When you were in high school, it was simply a popularity contest about who could accumulate the most carnations.  In college, it's all about single girls getting upset about not having a boyfriend and drowning their sorrows in chocolate.  And then you have married couples who go out for no reason other than that they're "supposed" to.

I really don't feel like I would feel any differently if I were in a relationship; Valentine's Day will still be stupid.  The guy doesn't want to buy pointless gifts, and I sure as hell wouldn't want to receive them.  Flowers wither and die, chocolate will make me fat, and what the fuck would I do with a teddybear?!  If, in the future, I have a boyfriend, I will make sure he understands that we will not be doing anything out of the ordinary than our usual routine, and if he feels the uncontrollable need to buy me something then I would like an extra delicious americano or double espresso because that means much more to me.

In conclusion, if anyone feels left out today, please don't.  Just be happy you don't have to partake in the cheesiness that is this holiday.  I am.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

A fine line?

I saw my parents today, and a pleasant day was ruined by the final lecture I received before being dropped off at my apartment.  Perhaps it's a fine line between giving constructive criticism and being mean, but my feelings were hurt regardless.  It didn't really hit me until I was home, alone, and confused.  I ended up binge and purging (like I usually do after seeing my parents) and bought fresh razor blades.  Healthy, I know.

What my mom told me was this in a nutshell:  I need to take down the sign that says "BITCH" plastered on my forehead.  Wow.  Thanks, mom, I'm really feeling the love now.

I'm not mean or rude to people, but I'm not exactly overly friendly to people I don't know.  I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing when living in a big city on my own; it's more of a protective mechanism.  I just don't trust people that easily, and it's not like she's excessively friendly to strangers either.  But what I'm most confused about is whether I truly am a bitch or not...I never thought myself to be mean, but does my thick barrier that I've constructed around myself give off that vibe?  None of you would know, I suppose, since I've never met you...and you would probably think I'm a bitch by glance because that's what people have told me after a first impression.  Apparently it's my appearance?  If I wasn't so paranoid someone would recognize me (because with my luck they would), I'd post a picture.

Anyway, is it constructive criticism or insulting?  I don't know, but I'm hurt inside either way.  Not that I'd tell her that.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Fix Me. I'm Broken.

Here I am, snuggled in my heated blanket, depressingly thinking back on my horrid eating today, and listening to Adele.  "Mood music," I'd like to call suit my mood.  Predictably, I'm feeling rather down. And, judging by the lack of reviews I've had lately, I feel like my consistently bad posts are rubbing off on people so I will do my best to pull something less depressing out of my ass in the next few days.  Maybe something spectacular will happen between now and the weekend...

My parents are coming up (I think), and while that's exciting news, I'm kind of dreading it too.  When I know they're coming, I feel the need to try to lose as much weight as possible and look as pretty as I can because I know they will judge me.  Maybe that's parents for you, but I swear that mine are particularly judgmental, making it nearly impossible to live up to their excessively high expectations.  While they tell me that I'm the most beautiful girl and "everyone says so," they also remark that I should lose weight, wear this not that, style my hair like so, etc.  My mom has even referred to me as a "window treatment," and she says she likes to take me to the grocery store with her when I'm home because everyone is nicer to her and she gets better as one of my friend's said, "your own mother is whoring you out."  I just feel like a doll to people, and it's no wonder I'm so fixated on my looks and all my flaws.  If no one can see past what's on the outside, then how can I?

Sometimes I try to imagine what I would think if I saw myself walking on the street, but I just can't.  I can't even make the connection with the person staring back at me in the mirror.  If I look objectively, then I can acknowledge that the girl is indeed pretty...but when I turn my head and so does the figure before me, then I change my mind.

When people treat me like a doll, I grow confused......because maybe they see a doll, but only I know it's broken.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Quick Question

Okay, so I have a lab report due in less than four hours so I need to make this quick and get my fat ass out of the apartment to finish it in time buuuut...are all the pipes in a bathroom connected?  The reason I ask is that our shower drain was clogged and water refused to go down.  Normally, I would assume it was just hair, but then the handyman flushed the toilet a few times so I wasn't sure if that was related.  Maybe he just had to use the bathroom, but I don't know.  Because obviously it would totally be my fault if the drain was clogged as a result of my excessive spilling of the contents of my stomach into the toilet.  Oh well, it's fixed at least, and it will be nice showering without inches of water at my feet.

I have a mini rant, too, but I'll save it for tomorrow because the lab report is not going to write itself...ugh, and then I have to do laundry.  Joy.

Friday, February 4, 2011

F#%$! It

I work tomorrow, have to wear short sleeves, and just don't really care anymore.  Here's the thing:  I work with two other people, few customers will probably come on a Saturday morning, and who's going to ask awkward questions anyway?  Maybe no one will even notice, and I will have been worrying over nothing. The sleeves will cover most of my problems, but the scars start on my forearms.  Then again, who notices people's arms?  We'll see.  The whole freezing temperature thing still bothers me though...I get that I work inside but the doors are always opening, blasting me with cold air repeatedly.  Has my boss not looked outside recently?  Snow and ice everywhere.

Moving on.  I think I did okay on my exam last night, but I won't know for sure until grades are posted and I can see the average.  With chemistry, it's really just important to be above the average, so if average is 50 percent then it's okay if you failed.  A 60 percent would be considered pretty good in that case.  I studied so much, and I just hope it paid off.  I have a lot more studying to do tomorrow, which should distract me from food as usual.  I was so thrilled that I kept blacking out upon standing in lab today...I know that seems odd, but it gives me a sick satisfaction...that and my constant (actually somewhat painful) growling stomach.  I like that it's so empty.  I was so hungry that I couldn't even fathom eating so I had some soup around 6pm finally.  But then I binged on fat free ice cream, bringing my total to about 1500 calories for the day...and then I purged.  Rationally, I think I should be okay, and if I do well tomorrow then I shouldn't be set back too much.  I could tell my body was beginning to shut down a little on me from lack of nutrients because I couldn't focus on anything.  I'm frequently "fuzzy".

I'm going out Saturday night, I think, so hopefully I look decent and the new concealer and mascara I bought help with that.  I love my eyes because they're green, large, and complete with very long eyelashes, but they're plagued by really, really dark under eye circles that I have thanks to genetics and amplified by terrible sleeping habits.  My roommate tells me to stop looking dead, but I can't help it!  I guess I kind of look like the zombie form of someone who used to look pretty once upon a time...

Monday, January 31, 2011

Random thoughts

Fortunately, I'm not screwed yet, but I will be on Saturday.  The problem I have is that I focus on my upper  arms and forearms; I thought that was best initially because then I could wear 3/4 length sleeves and be okay(ish).  Who would have thought you'd be forced to wear short sleeves?  I mean, despite your good advice, bracelets and arm warmers won't help me...but thanks anyway!  My best bet is to hope that I don't get in trouble for wearing the long sleeves regardless.  We shall see.

I have a huge exam on Thursday that I'm nervous about, so I probably won't be posting again until after it's over.  I've had so much shit going on and so much homework, which is why my posts have been slacking and rather sporadic.  But the good thing is that while I've been busy, I've been forgetting to eat.  I almost never eat until after 2pm at the earliest, and tomorrow I probably won't eat until almost 6pm.  My appetite has been severely cut down, so obviously I've been losing weight, too.  I think being busy is good for me because I don't focus on food all the time; instead I'm constantly thinking about studying and my next cup of (black) coffee.  I'm hoping that by the end of the quarter I will have dropped another 15 pounds, but since I refuse to step on a scale, I really won't know for sure.  I just want my clothes to be too big!

Anyway, I have class at 7:30am tomorrow, and I'm hoping there will be a snow day.  We're supposed to get an ice storm tonight, so the first thing I'm going to do is check my email when I wake up.  How glorious would that be if I could roll over and go back to sleep?  It's be fucking phenomenal...pardon my language but I do love that phrase...alliteration or something...

Thursday, January 27, 2011


Okay, I just received an email from my boss that says we all have to wear this short sleeved shirt at work without long sleeves underneath or a sweatshirt over it.  So...I'm in deep shit.

I understand the whole no sweatshirt thing because it covers up the shirt, but no long sleeves underneath?  It gets cold in the cafes, and I really don't think it's fair for them to make a policy like that.  But my problem is that I wear long sleeves for a reason, and now I don't know what to do.  Fortunately, I don't work until Tuesday and don't normally see my bosses that day of the week so hopefully I can figure something out in the meantime.  Will foundation help?

I'm so screwed.

Monday, January 24, 2011


Well, I'm sitting in my room delaying homework that's due tomorrow, knowing I'll feel like hell if I don't go to bed (and getting a sick satisfaction as a result of my impending day of misery), and I can't stop all of the thoughts plaguing my mind.  My roommate earlier joked with a friend that her life is a tragedy, even though she is with friends all the time, has a plan after graduation, is beautiful and skinny and eats what she wants, and has had at least two serious boyfriends.  I, however, have no friends to confide in and rarely hang out with people anyway, have no idea what to do after graduating, am fat and hideous especially compared to her, and have never had so much as a casual fling (not including drunken one night stands).  So if her life is a tragedy, then what the fuck is mine?

The only person that I could claim to "confide in" is my mom, but I don't tell her most things.  The problem is that my mom loves the child she thinks she has.  According to her, we are very alike, I am extremely cheerful, and am emotional.  Uh, what?  First of all, we are not alike, and even my brother will attest to that.  Secondly, I am not cheerful; I pretend to be.  And third, well, I don't even know how to respond to that.  I try so hard not to be emotional, and I know that my emotions do wreak havoc on my life.  But I think that I contain them well.  I can only hope that she says I'm emotional because I'm self conscious and had a panic attack over my birthday weekend this summer...Another reason my mom and I aren't alike:  she has a flare for dramatics.  She worries about everything, has an irish temper, and assumes the worst or the best (depending on the situation) about everything.  This summer, for example, she threatened to throw me in a mental hospital for the rest of my life to waste away all because of one weekend.  Good god, woman.  So clearly, I will always have a wall between us or else I will be destined for the psych ward unless my dad steps in.  But you know dads; they like not to get involved.

Anyway, I can never joke about my life being a tragedy because, really, it kind of is.  But it's all my own doing so I can't even bring myself to want pity, though I do feel sorry for my pathetic excuse of a human being.  Life sucks; that's a fact.