Du-u-u-u-ude. I started another blog, for writing. In my old blog, I had started to write a story. I finally wrote another part to it. You can find it in my profile. : ) Right now, only the story's in there, but I'll probably post random things that I write from time to time.

Also, I am still so stoked on Skins right now. Haha.

Happy New Year's everyone! Ok it's not for another two hours, but I'm tired and don't expect to be online then, so I'm telling you now: in 2010 I will devote myself fully to Ana. No longer will I be afraid of not being normal, or afraid of being crazy, or being afraid of hurting anyone because I'm going to keep it a complete secret! But I will let it run free through my veins. I will live off of hunger highs and euphorias. Ana has become more real to me than ever over the last few days, like an entity that's waited patiently by my side through all of my greed and over-eating, waiting for the right moment to take me under he wing. And now is the right moment, the perfect moment! She's going to take me, my body, my soul, my life, my passions, my will. She's going to teach me how to be ethereal and magical. She's going to make me thin, and strong, and perfect, and happy. Oh yes, I will be the exception. Because Ana is mine, and I am hers. From now on, of course.

I'm feeling completely uninspired, blog-wise. I've been writing a lot of stuff otherwise, though, so that's weird. I'm not allowed to go out tonight because of the impending excess of drunkards on the road for New Year's Eve (though I was completely unaware of the fact that it was New Year's until my mom told me, heh heh) so tonight will be spent writing, singing, playing guitar, doing homework, watching Skins over and over again and certainly not eating. Lots of fun at-home stuff. I'm feeling quite devious today, though with nowhere to go and really no friends with generous and/or infectious drug-or-alcohol-related vices, my hunger for deviance will have to be satisfied with lots and lots of hunger. See what I did there? Yeah.

Yesterday was so good but I'm feeling depressed again today. I don't know why. Either my scale is playing tricks on me or I gained .2lbs.

Edit: Just kidding, I maintained. Still bummed though.

Another edit: Ha, by "just kidding" I didn't mean that I was trying to fool you guys. It was just that when I went to log my weight, I saw yesterday's number and it turned out to be the same; I had just remembered it wrong.

I was just doing too well, wasn't I? Huh. Had to fuck it up. Well I can rescue the day if I fast for the rest of it. And drink tons and tons of water. And maybe if I hate myself just enough, I won't have gained. Or maybe, I ate less than I thought (am I the only one that basically blacks out when they binge?) and I'll maybe even have lost the teeniest bit by tomorrow morning...

But I won't eat. I promise. Because I want hunger. I crave it. And I want to be dizzy and far, far away from the real world. I'll be with you but I'll be floating a few inches above our conversation. I'll be charming, polite and relaxed. I just want to be Luna Lovegood, damnit. ; )

"I'll float above the ocean, the sun above is burning my head, I will grow wings and fly everywhere..."

I'm not going to pretend I'm sicker than I am. I no longer find the idea of this whole disease-thing romantic in any way. I surely will not gaze out of windows, contemplating my horrific disorder, and oh woe is me how sick and disturbed of a young, innocent little girl I am. Oh, hell. I wouldn't kid myself. I'm not going to curl up in some hole of teenage-angst where being sicker makes me cooler. Because that's not how it works at all. But inexplicably some of us seem to live and thrive in that dream. My point? None.

Today is simple: make soup, wait as long as I can to start eating it. Eat as much of it as I want because the whole pot will be under 350 calories. Eat nothing else for the day. Make birthday cake for my dad's birthday. Don't eat it. Oh please, just don't eat it.

I'm down .2lbs. Better than nothing. I don't feel like I deserve any more right now.

The Definition of Mediocre

I didn't fast today, but I didn't binge either. I resisted pizza, chocolate, and popcorn. I ate cucumbers, frozen fruit, green beans, peas, crackers... all lovely things had I not insisted on eating them all together like some greedy child. Here's to coming in at about 550 calories. I rode the exercise bike for 30 minutes -- half the time that I had planned -- and according to the bike that burned off 200 of those calories. I. feel. plain. I. feel. mediocre. I. feel. tired. I didn't do any of my homework today. I am the lamest of the lame. I'm exhausted. Was this the good news that I promised? That for once I didn't binge? Maybe. Maybe I'll stop being a wuss and actually fast tomorrow. I've extend all soups into my fast. Why? Because I'm mediocre and my standards are incredibly low right now. But right now I'm very tired, and think I need to go to bed.

Looking forward tomorrow morning when I'll wake up, put on Golden Girls and make a huge pot of cabbage soup.

My sister made me go get lunch with her. Terrible. But I have enough diet soda to last me through the apocalypse and I will not, not, not eat tonight.** Today is my last day of true winter break -- I have another full week before school starts again which will be spent exercising and doing my homework. Getting down to business, or what have you.

Much thanks to the pictures on ana is blue's blog for reminding me how obsessed I am with Hannah Murray. Skins is now in my Netflix queue. Heh heh. 








**Updated.


I am utterly devastated. I binged. I'm supposed to fast and I binge. Go me. Why? Sheesh, I don't know why. I've spent the last month trying to answer that same question and I'm still not sure why I do it. Fear of success? Attempting to be normal? The twisted compulsion to make myself unhappy? Did my body never leave starvation mode and thus still thinks that this is the last meal before the next drought? I can dig and dig for an answer, but no answer seems to be the one that makes me stop binging. 


My mind is just fucking blown.


So I was too depressed to even muster up enough energy to exercise the food off, so the only viable option seemed to be to take an ice-cold bath and meditate on certain horrible things I had previously done. I lied in the cold water, shivering and wondering how close the possibility was of getting frostbite. I figured I was going to be ok. But a couple of my fingernails began to turn blue so I figured it was time to get out. And I have a couple quarts of ice water to drink before I go to bed. Of course this is most likely useless, but I feel better being proactive. 


I would have purged it all. I would have purged until all my arteries and bones spilled from my throat... but the layout of my house makes this impossible. I gag loudly and the sound of a pin drop travels like a gun shot in my house. I am an almost-bulimic with paper thin walls. I'm missing the important half of the disorder, the louder, more conspicuous half. I'm stuck here, in this tiny bubble. It's only big enough for a skeleton but I'm an elephant trapped inside of it, suffocating.


The want, the will, the drive is there. It just seems that the ability is no longer present. 


I promise to deliver good news to you girls, and soon. I won't let you down anymore. 

WHY WHY WHY

Why do I spend all day miserably trudging through this fast, only to throw it away on a couple of... well maybe more than a couple of snacks? When I eat, it's not starvation, it's not hunger or thirst. It's not anger, it's not boredom. It's a desperate desire to feel normal. 


I eat furiously, with the subtle intention of normalizing my mindset. If I can eat I can be like everyone else, right? If I can eat I won't be this alien creature that spends her time alone either eating or not eating, binging or starving. There is nothing else in my world. Nothing! If I can eat maybe I can share the food culture with my worldly contemporaries; they can accept me if I can accept my need to eat.

But the more I eat the less I enjoy it -- the more I eat the more alone I feel -- the more I eat the more I realize: I am not, not, not, not normal. Not with food at least. I think it's safe to say that I will certainly never be normal in this respect.

So naturally, only one option remains: I must be extraordinary. 

Ahem. Cough cough.

I've been sick and sad today. I did, however, buy a beautiful star lamp and also avoided solid food. I had an orange/strawberry smoothie and some tomato soup. Maybe that pushes the boundaries of a liquid fast just a little bit, but it's ok for my standards (which are very, very low at the moment.)

I'm still a little apprehensive about the texting-buddy thing. It's partially like, "Ehhh internet stalkers," and partially like, "Ehhh having all these random contacts in my phone will look mighty suspicious..." So I don't know right now.

Bah, I feel sick. I think for the remainder of the night I'm just going to lie in bed and watch TV. Good plan.

Are you opposed to having me, a complete yet humble stranger, as a text buddy? More specifically, would you like to fast until New Year's with me (water but other liquids as needed) and to give each other round-the-clock support via the wonderful invention of a cell phone? The logical side of me tells me it's irresponsible to do something like this, but the eating-disordered side of me is insisting that I have a new goddamned cell phone and I better be using it to improve myself. I'm desperate and I feel like if I had someone that I could text every time I felt the urge to eat, and if I had someone texting me every time they had the urge to eat, that we could instill the utmost strength in each other and we would both be fabulous and skinny in no time. ...so?

I'm a fatass.

Could she have been born so greedy? She, bred from the same flesh of bedraggled immigrants, clad in thinning babushkas, the crooked noses and widow's peaks of time still running through her genetics. And harsh, streamlined bone structure, once prominent for want of nourishment, now blurred by the new American blubber.

Yay!

Yay for my family eating Christmas dinner early, like really early, like at 3:00 PM when I'm in the middle of a nap. So that's out of the way. Christmas has been good; my eating hasn't been. For some reason fasting yesterday made me really ill so I ate some crackers to settle my stomach, but then I was helping my mom cook dinner and I just couldn't resist all the snacking. I ate this morning at about 10:00 and don't plan on eating for the rest of the day. I still plan on doing my year-end liquid fast, but if I do screw up, I'm not going to throw in the towel, I'll just keep going as usual.

So my sister bought me this really nice weighted jump rope for Christmas, as random as that sounds. But I'm so excited because I've read that jump roping is as good or better for you than running is, which is fantastic because  I have ankle problems that make it almost physically impossible for me to run. So I'm going to get really into jump roping. : D

I'm sorry I don't have much interesting to say. Maybe this blog will get more interesting once I actually start making some progress! Huh. Merry Christmas everyone, try not to worry about food, just look forward to the fact that we don't have to worry about a major foodie holiday until the Fourth of July!    : O!!!

Future.

When I start thinking about my future, I get really confused. How on earth will I put a name to what I want to do with my life, how on earth will I even figure out what that is? And how the hell do I go to college for something like that?

I do know I want to do something socially conscious, politically active, to create positive social change on as grand of scale as possible. To work for some kind of organization, I guess. I know you can't get a degree in that, specifically. I know I should be majoring in something like Sociology or Political Science. I know what I really need to be doing is interning wherever I can, networking, making connections. I decided to stay in town to go to college for my core classes, to give myself two years to really solidly figure everything out, and of course two years to make said connections. But I've been looking for internships and yielding not much at all.

Every time I think I get it figured out, I realize how faulty my logic has been. I want to work my way up to Atlanta. From Atlanta I want to work my way up to D.C. I like it there, a lot. My heart aches for it. Every day I'm at my mother's heels, bouncing off a new idea to her on what would be a good occasion to make the trip to Washington. Over Christmas? No. My birthday weekend? No. Spring break? Well I'm going there during summer, that's for sure. And I want to live somewhere in India for a while.

I took three AP classes this year because I wanted to go away for college. But now I'm swamped with stress and regret because I'm going to end up going to a university where you only need a 2.0 GPA to get in. It literally has a 99% acceptance rate. I could have relaxed this year, figured myself out more. I have so much homework to do over break and it's Christmas Eve and I'm not even enjoying the holidays because I'm so stressed. Even though I keep telling myself I have over 10 days left in break to finish all my work I'm stressed.

I just don't want to live my like feeling like I've wasted my power as an individual. I could have been an elementary school music teacher. I could teach government, or choral music, or history, or English. I could have been a nutritionist like my mom wanted me to be. But the thought of staying in one place scares the shit out of me. The thought of staying here for the next two years feels suffocating. I always want to be moving, to be improving. To be taking more and more people in under my wing.

I have no fucking clue.

I'm extremely tired and weak today. I drank some bouillon (30 cals) because I just felt like I needed something. I feel worse.

The NEW new plan.

The new plan is simple: stay hungry and stay cold. Wouldn't it be marvelous if I could go the rest of the year without eating? And what a cop-out, too! Heh heh, so sneaky, not eating for the rest of the year when we're so close to the end of it! Or rather, no solid food for the rest of the year. That means soup, soup, soup. Which is also the only warm thing that will enter my body. Other than that it's ice water and fruit smoothies. And cold showers. I took my first ice-cold shower today and it was fucking invigorating. And no blankets, ever. And fans on whenever possible. Cold water all the time. It's only been half a day of this denial of heat and I already don't miss being warm. It's amazing!

Tomorrow I'm going to water fast. I have to be happy on Christmas, and I'll only be happy if I give myself a day to become empty. But, after recent events, I must make it seem like I've eaten normally. I usually fake a PBJ: peanut butter sandwiches are very simple things to use as a cover-up. Most people don't notice when the amount of bread in the loaf changes, so you won't actually have to make the sandwich and waste it. You can just stick a knife in peanut butter and then throw it in the sink.

Oh what a sneaky bastard I am. Goodnight, all.

New blog!

Here's the deal: my sister found my old blog (Pursuits in Absolutes). Luckily, she didn't realize it was my blog; she thought I was reading someone else's blog. Phew! But I realized that for the sake of my privacy, I needed to stop posting in that one and move on to a new blog. So here it is!

I'm a bit sad about the whole thing--my old blog had all of my followers and all of my memories. But I'm going to try and add everyone back and hopefully things can get back to normal soon.

NEW BLOG RESOLUTION: Post a thinspo in every entry. : )