Here I am. Pondering. Such a dangerous state of mind. Since Monday I have felt a touch better but lets face it, I am still down deep. My boyfriend calls it a “funk”. A funk I’ve gone through for over 15 years. I am off a strict diet, binging. I don’t know if it’s actually binging really. I am eating foods that I “shouldn’t be”. Such as chicken. Crackers and cheese. I SHOULD be eating low fat cottage cheese, fruit, vegetables and fish. NOTHING ELSE. I should be going to the lake for a couple of hours. I lost my motivation and basically have said screw it. Well for…let’s see…3 days. I am deciding my next restriction diet. Breakfast: apple w/ wedge of cheese, Lunch: 1/2 cup cottage cheese, DInner: 4 oz fish w/ vegetables. I might swap the cottage cheese with a small salad. Probably healthier. I am supposed to go on this float with the boyfriend and the same friends I went to the lake last weekend. Yes the ones that sent me into a tailspin hating my own being more then anything because I can’t stand to stand next to any of those girls with the perfect bodies. I have told people at work, my mother about the horrifying experience and they all look at me like I am crazy. Someone at work replied, “Not everyone can be a size 0.” I just looked at her like, why wouldn’t you want to be? And furthermore, why wouldn’t you want to try?? I don’t understand why some people just simply give in to what their bodies want to look like. That is something you can change about yourself!! Can’t change your face, or your height…why not change your weight to be top notch? I want the perfect body. It drives me crazy but I want it more then anything. When I was younger I wanted to be a fruitarian, someone who just lives off of fruit. I read about a woman who believed she could live off the sun. I envied her. She ate a small piece of cheese in the morning then would breath in the sun for the rest of her meals. I thought how amazing that was. The strength, the power, the pure ability to tell oneself NO. To deny yourself something that others HAVE to consume. I have put to much filth into my body and want to be clean. I want to eat clean if I have to eat at all. I want to exist on NOTHING but vegetables and fruit in the morning. I want to eat under 200 calories and I want to burn it all off.
I have 2 weeks until the float. If I don’t lose weight before it, I am still obligated to go because the boyfriend is paying for me to go, but I will stay clothed. NO one wants to see this body. It is so insanely gross. Why can’t I be a size 0, or rather smaller. I want to fit into children’s clothing. I want to be stricter then anyone. I want to be healthier then anyone. I want to eat cleaner then anyone. I want to eat nothing. I wish I had a juicer I would go on a juice fast until the float. I believe I could do it. My parents would cheer me on.
These last couple of days have been pure hell. I wish to have someone to talk to about all these feelings drowning me, making me want to spit out hollowness, but I have no one. The boyfriend does nothing but sit next to me dumbfounded because he doesn’t know what to say. He has never experienced anxiety, depression, body hating feelings. He simply looks at me with sad puppy dog eyes, with a mute expression. Trying to fumble through his own words and thoughts. It only makes me angry. I want to throw punches, I want to scream and tell him MAKE ME FEEL BETTER!! SAY SOMETHING!! But what would make me feel better?? The only thing would would be to lose all this dirty weight. Lose these dusted thoughts. Chase these demons back to other realms. Stop isolating and run, towards life. I am such a coward. I feel like it’s to late for me. Everyone else should jump ship. Grab onto to safety and get the hell out of here. I don’t understand why the boyfriend stays with me. I told him the other day he needs to leave me so I can stay in the dark. Wrap myself up in my depression and wither away. Leave this world. I would plunge into another world of my own. I have somewhat already done that. The only thing I have ever wanted to do was lose weight, do drugs and drink. The only thing that has changed in the last 3 years is I don’t do drugs anymore. And that is basically due to being on probation. Yes I am a major fuck up in this world. A fuck up. A nobody. A nothing. I am not even thin. I have nothing to be proud of. The only thing I can tell myself is I like to drink because I consider myself a some what artist. Not any good, I’m a half an artist. I can somewhat draw, but I don’t do it much anymore. I love writing, but I’M NO GOOD. Anything I have half an interest in I feel like I am nothing more then a hack. I worthless hack. I feel like my depression swallowed me whole years ago and spit me out. I am now just skin and hair. Bones smothered by fat. A shell of a person that once lived, but died to soon. To soon, or not soon enough, I can’t determine that. I am a living dead girl like Rob Zombie sings about. I am a sad lyric, a fallen body, a has been, a loser no one wants to shovel into a casket. Tormented with these thoughts that tell me all day, everyday that I don’t deserve anything. I don’t deserve to breath this air. I don’t deserve to be here. I don’t deserve anything I have. I don’t work hard at anything, I don’t deserve ANYTHING. I can’t honestly understand why I am still alive. I want nothing more to be thin, and yet I know how to do it but I am not. I wonder if I have that body dsymorphia thing because I just want to crumble in a heap on the floor after looking at myself. I want to punch the mirror and watch the blood drizzle down my fist. I want to make pretty little cuts into my ugly fat thighs. I want to lay on the bathroom floor soaked in tears. I want to drink until I can’t think anymore. I want to escape from my own self. So many intrusive, obsessive thoughts. So much to handle. All I can think of is do they see the scars, what are they thinking…do they think I am a freak? An fake. I am a fake person. I plaster on a fake personality each day. No one knows who I am. I am a fake being. My boyfriend’s daughter came home Tuesday from being at her grandma’s house for a month. I am clueless on how to be a proper parent. I don’t know what to do with her. I am so wrapped up in my obsessive thoughts it’s hard to break through. I want to lock myself up inside myself and not let anyone in. I want someone to break through, but no one knows how. I have made sure of that. Who would want to come to my wedding, for me? Who would come to my funeral. I am so blind. Everything is so clouded. Clouded with shame, insanity, worthlessness. I can’t see anything. Depression is so heavy. I am so weak. I just want to be pretty. But I know I’m just dirt.
*think thin*
Finding A Path... 