Sunday, February 21, 2010
Thrice I binged today. All 3 were terrible, terrible episodes. Purging not included, I suppose I wanted to keep the one ounce of dignity I have left in the form of a non-purging streak. At the moment I loathe it because I'm going to be super fat and unhappy tomorrow and it's my fault for being a gluttonous pig.
It's my fault.
The hardest part of it all is that it is my fault. I reap what I sow and I done sowed the wrong muthafukin shit. So now and tomorrow and forever I will be working to negate the damage.
In other [less depressing] news, I did go over to my friends house and had fun. I get so sucked up in isolating myself and obsessing over my body and whothefuckknowswhatelse and I forget how many smiles being with friends can be. It's not the same with my family, there is heaviness in my heart when I am around a lot of my family where I cannot be myself.
This turned depressing.
My friends told me that I am a good writer today. That my e-mails are hilarious and I should write a blog (hardee har har). I hold up this masquerade of positive attitude and I'd like to think I mostly am (or mostly becoming am) (that didn't make sense-moving on) but when the topic of conversation turns to me the negativity surfaces. I said that first I need to get a life so I actually have something to blog about. They encouraged me anyway telling me to just write about anything and it'll be good and they'll publish it into a book one day and I'll be all Carrie Bradshaw-like and fabulous (I'd hang on to Aiden though).
Aren't my friends the sweetest! Don't you just love their lies and wish it were the truth!
I guess that's what kills me, we all lie to those that we love to boost their confidence. I fear false confidence, compliments given through eyes that see me through rosey colored glasses.
I still think it's funny that they tell me to get a blog and I have to pretend like I don't have one nor want one. I guess the truth of the matter is that I am embarassed and ashamed to be me. I have an eating disorder, I'm obsessed with my body, I have no friends, I isolate myself and do nothing with this life that I have. I don't like what I see when I look in the mirror. I don't like the thoughts that run through my mind. I don't like the fact that I am so hung up on hating myself that I fail to really see the world around me or even properly care about others. I am single and I don't wonder why, I know that it's because I am in this bubble that is my fault.
It's all my fault. My reality is made from my own choices and thus I have continually made the wrong choices for myself. My hallow heart beats without passion.
How do I change? I am afraid of life. I just want to start over.
(I swear I started this post with the intentions of it being a positive and upbeat post. Sorry. I suck. Hopefully I will suck less in my next post.)
(I'm babbling. It's late. I hope this post even made some kind of sense.)