Sorry for the lack of thinspo lately; I see that my blog has been a little plain without it. But as you can tell I'm not exactly in the mood to post it. Last night when I was half-asleep I texted my friend a bunch of stuff. Not revealing stuff, just a lot of "I hate my life I'm not a person anymore I'm not anything I'm serious you have no idea" (but granted most of this was spelled so terribly it was undecipherable. I wasn't looking at the keypad at all when I typed.) She said I was texting like a drunk person and I should go to sleep and she'd come and bring hot chocolate and we'd talk it out today. God I wish I could tell her. Like, you know that night we saw Bayside? And we both vowed that surely it was the best night of our lives, because we're best friends and we're seeing our very favorite band together? Well I hardly enjoyed it because I couldn't stop thinking about how fat I was and how I needed to stop eating. This is how eating disorders fucking ruin lives. Because I can't enjoy my favorite things. And the reason I pick fights with you is because Ana keeps telling me not to trust you, that you're not really my friend because I'm too fat and ugly for you. Ana tells me not to talk to people because they won't like me, because I'm too fat and too ugly. She tells me I'm so unlike you. I'm too unlike you to relate to you at all so I shouldn't even bother. I try to think for myself but I can't anymore. She speaks through my body and she says horrible things. I can't fight her off anymore. But I want friends. I don't have any friends because I won't let myself feel close to anyone. And I can't relate to anyone because I'm this fat evil alien but also this starving child who just wants to eat and feel happy about it, for once. And that indeed is why I hate my fucking life.

But I did lose .4lbs so my day is slightly less terrible.

The only reason I'm not binging my emotions away right now is because if I'm going to fess up and spill my guts to someone about my eating disorder I better be fucking skinny. If I ever want to recover I better be fucking skinny. The lame poor failed anorexic. She was such a fuck-up that her life got fucked-up completely before she even got skinny.

Here's the deal. I hate my fucking life. If I ever sound bummed you get mad at me. I'm starting to think that if I killed myself people would just be angry with me. I'm not fucking obligated to be happy 100% of the time for your sake but as my best friends I had previously held the belief that you are, in fact, obligated to fucking ask me what's wrong or at least talk to me when I'm feeling down. Most of the day I just feel ashamed at what a pathetic fucking existence I lead. I don't want to get to know people because I'm embarrassed at the life I lead, if you could even call it a life. When I talk to new people I dread them figuring out what a loser I really am. I fucking sit at home wallowing in my eating disorder or I go out with friends who don't seem to like me very much, in groups that I never belong in. Or we go to shows and no one cares that it's a show, it's just an opportunity for you two to get hit on and for me to be completely ignored. I'm so full of fucking rage that I could just blow myself up. But you'd never know that. Because you never fucking ask. You never fucking act interested. Do you realize that I have shit going on? That my entire existence does not revolve around the short conversations we have every day? My friends don't fucking trust me. I don't even know who my friends are. If someone asked me who my friends were I would honestly have to change the subject because the real answer would be embarrassing. "Oh I'm friends with S and K, S doesn't have much time for me and K thinks I'm far too fucking ugly for her." I'm starting to think it's time to recover because this eating disorder has made me dig myself so far back in my mind that I don't even know how to relate to people anymore. Can I recover my mind while still starving my body? I want to start. I want to smile, but my face is so tired. And I'm broke. And no one ever wants to talk to me. I hate this fucking life but I'll make a strong attempt to be friendly and pleasant tonight. Fuck.

Oh fuck my life.

Forcing myself to eat some soup right now. I don't know why. I'm going out tonight most likely to be disappointed, because no one fucking likes me. I'm thinking and maybe it's not that I'm fat, and maybe it's not that I'm ugly, but perhaps (and probably) it's because I have a really shitty personality. And maybe it's not that I make a bad first impression, it's just that I make no impression at all. Feeling down. And there's no one to pull me up. My fucking friends don't trust me. And I only have like three fucking friends.

I can feel my heart beating through my fucking eyeballs.

Disclaimer: profuse fucking swearing

I feel so fucking weirded out by my last post. I feel fucking wrong and weird for saying that shit. Let me tell you something about myself--I hate being fucking controlled. By anyone or anything. Social control pisses me off, general societal rituals, religion, gender roles, general behavioral and fashion expectations induced by age, race, sex or sexual orientations--all really ridiculous shit that I don't think should exist. And I hate how much it controls people. That's why I don't drink alcohol, that's why I don't do drugs, that's I wouldn't practice most religions even if I did believe in God (following a book that says that as a female I am inherently sinful? Fuck you, no way.) and it's why I like to play devil's advocate a lot. Basically I am mentally extremely claustrophobic and if I feel like my thoughts are being controlled in any way I get extremely uncomfortable.

So why the fuck was I saying all that shit about belonging to some distant figment of my imagination? I don't know. Because I want to be a different person. But through the duration of my eating disorder thus far I decided I would be the exception--that i could be happy AND starving. And that Ana would not control my life. I am my own fucking god! And my own fucking nutritionist! my own fucking personal trainer! But after like two months of reverting towards the realms of compulsive-over-eating I figured i could never restrict again unless I gave up my mind.

STUPID SHIT!

DON'T EVER EVER EVER GIVE UP YOUR MINDS!

It's the only fucking thing you have!

I will devote myself fucking completely to MY eating disorder and I will fight this ghost that hangs off of my fucking back telling me to be a self-obsessed little bitch to her fucking wishes of ribs and spines... those are MY fucking wishes! And I'm taking them back! Minor Goonies reference? Recognize.

I am not a slave to my eating disorder. I fucking control it, I always fucking will.

FUCK ME FOR SAYING ALL OF THAT I WAS FUCKING STUPID THAT IS NOT HOW I WANT TO FUCKING LIVE. I'm reverting back to July 4th when I got my first comments on my old blog and how they scared the fucking shit out of me because I felt like I was doing something wrong. Well I don't think I'm doing anything wrong but fucking seriously I will not live in a dream for the duration of my life.

Granted, I predict either deleting this post entirely, or editing it, or just posting a post explaining this post. I'm hungry and exhausted and only conscious enough to know that I sound fucking half-conscious right now...


oh yeah, uh, liquid fasting tomorrow. 
just found out that tall soy hot chocolates with no whipped cream from starbucks are 220 calories, so worth it, and they make me feel sick so double yeahhh.


Edit: Yeah just read this over and realized how ridiculous I sound but it's too much to say again so I'll just say I apologize for all the swearing and I hope someone somewhere realizes even a little bit why I feel the way I do about this.

Another edit: Fuck me for being such a fucking fatass when I started my first blog! And now, I'm so, so fat... jesus christ this is a bad night to go crazy, i'ms tarting off 2010 comlpletely fucking crazy... i need to go to sleep though, sorry. this is another reason i don't drink, beause im this fucking crazy on my own.