I'd like to dedicate this one to the Homies

(I'm so gangsta.)

(Gangsta with an "a," not "er" cuz I'm street!)

(okay, not really.)

(I'm really a NINJA!)

(Hi-YA! I was gone so long because I was on a secret mission being all Ninjafied and cool! Kicking asses and taking names!)

(In my mind.)

Anyhoodlydoo...

I totally got a Sunshine Award!!

(cue: applause)

Actually I got 4 because I ran away from blogger for the past few weeks so a couple of those where kind of pity awards because they didn't know about the others...

 (but I'm  still gonna take it! And jump up, jump up and get down!! Jump around! Jump Around!! Jump! Jump! Jump!)

So these are the lovely bloggers with the sweetest words EVER! EVER!!

Scribblings of my disordered Eating [life] (Minaralou)

Mental Vomit (What if Summer...)

Leak (Embre aka Meg)

Average is Not an Option (xEllex)

I'm pretty sure everybody reads their blogs but if you aren't well you recommend that you start! And while on the subject of blogs to read here are 5 more...

Ethereal Pasco Rose (Pasco)

Control (Pretty Wreck)

Back on the no Gravy Train (Lulu)

Savory & Sick (Savory Sweet)

So She Says (Sar)

I could give you like 20 more but... rules are rules and the rules say 5 and I'm super lazy.  I'm pretty sure all of these bloggers have already received this award so I'm not going to comment on their blogs to let them know I gave them this award because I'm super duper lazy.

I totally want to thank those who gave me this award because these people are amazing (broken record much?).  You all said the SWEETEST of the SWEETEST words about me! It was like a calorie free chocolate macadamia cookie the size of Alaska, crunchy on the edges and soft and warm on the inside.  I was actually loving that this award got around because I found soooo many new and fabulous bloggers!! (I live under a rock.) (Don't judge.)

AND THEN.... Crazy Questions I was tagged by Meg!

1. what one food do you miss more than anything else? 

Pizza! Ooey-gooey fatty cheesy, deep dish pizza!

2. if you could turn any one person fat , who would it be and why? 

Megan Fox, I don't like her attitude.

3. do you look at food porn? and if so what are your favorites? 

Yes! PIZZA!! All different flavors. Okay and the BJ's website and the CPK website....I'm a sucker online menus with pictures.

4.what is your greatest memory from when you were younger? 

Playing with my best friend after school everyday (trampoline, play catch, play kick, draw, race down the steps... never bored, the possibility were endless!)

5.what is your favorite smell? (ex: mine is the smell right before a big storm in springtime)  
Beside Vanilla. I like the smell of Orange Blossoms and I like the smell of the air after the rain (the sound too).

Bombs over Bagdad

I'm hitting this shit from ALL OVER!

I'm a force.

That's right depression, I'm gunning for YOU!

DIE DEVILBIRD!!!

And I think I'm winning the fight.  Victory will be mine. Mine. MIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNE!!! MUAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!!!!

What's changed? (Other than the obvious fact that I'm actually trying and using exclamation points, that is.)

• Cried it out.
• Reached out to friends (well, to hang out & be social–snotting up with the friends? Not if I can help it.)
• Dieting/Restricting again (I'm making Cabbage soup RIGHT NOW to keep my appetite at bay AND I'm drinking Green Tea AND I've been drinking water like the secret ingredient is crack.) (A force.)  

(Just in case you weren't "in the know" that is the secret ingredient in Doritos.) 

(Crack. Not water.)

• I'm bringing Diet Pills back in the game (SlimQuick)
• Visiting the Doc to fix the body (maybe the mind but I have to find a Psychiatrist/Psychologist through insurance)
• I'm taking an anti-depressant (Zoloft) (Prescribed–I'm not a criminal) (Just sayin'. If you are, I'm cool with that, not judging.) (Just don't rob me, deal? Deal.)
• I'm trying :) (Yay!)

So I don't which one of these is responsible for the gaeity happening upstairs, but I'm liking it.  It's good. I'm doing laundry right now. LAUNDRY. 

A force.

So suck it! Depression.

You're goin dooooooowwwwwnnn!!!

An Apple a day kee...why hello there doctor

Despite my excessive Apple consumption (in both the fruit world & material world) I'm not a healthy gal.  I visited my doctor yesterday and he confirmed.  He ordered me to see my Rheumotologist because he might be seeing signs that lupus is boiling and, apparently, this is something that should be monitored more often than every 3 years.  Who knew.  He referred me to a dermatologist, as well, "to hit this [my acne/rash/redness/skin mountains] from both ends" and also a prescription for Zoloft though he has a feeling that by getting the Lupus under control (read: medicate me) might relieve a lot of this emotionalness and frustration.  Yeah, I started crying in the doctors office.

Embarrassing. 

I'm going to have to swallow my pride and let go of my ego if I want to get better.  I'm going to have to learn how to accept who I am today in order to be better tomorrow.  You just can't work with lies, they multiply like fruit flies.

Easier said than done but what isn't?

I've been eating okay, staying under 1000 calories (except for one day at 1300).  I didn't want to eat anymore last night but I couldn't push food out of my mind, so I settled for 50 cals of eggwhites and 5 saltine crackers, I counted 901 cals for yesterday.  I cringe when I enter food into my Lose It! app because 755 was so much better and I had fearful thought saying, Oh great, now I'm going to be HUGE tomorrow!  But reality hit me and rationalized that I'm still going to lose, I'm still improving.  It is me who makes that number magic but my body just lets me think all crazy-like and freak out and goes about it's business silently laughing at these delusions that I create that are completely off base to reality.

Whatever works.

I'm going to an Angels game tonight with my cousin!  I'm super excited, she's the one I go 3 1/2 hours up north to go visit.  Love her!  So excited!!  I have no idea what I'm going to wear though, which reminds me that I must. do. laundry.  I got as far as jeans... and there are like 13 more mountains of clothes to go.

Loathe. Laundry.

Loathe.

Anyhoodle, I'm also excited that I'm hanging out with my other cousin on Sunday.  We grew up together and have always had a special bond but grew apart.  She recently broke up with her boyfriend (who she lived with) so know she's back in civilization.

AND another design project!  My friends want me to do the Save The Dates for their wedding in August!  Hopefully I get to hang out with her next week.

The First Step Is Always the Hardest One

I'm pretty sure that's a lie.  I think maybe Captain Carnivorous is just getting started with me.

Maybe.

Monday had it's ups and downs, I missed the first class but made it to the second.  However, though I was present (and puffy) I was unprepared.  No homework, no rough draft for my 3rd essay.  On the upside my group in the class is really cool, I even chatted with some classmates after class which had me driving away from school with an overall good feeling.

When I got home my mom asked me what was bothering me.  I shook my head.  "Do you just not want to talk about it?" Says my mom in a tip-top of a voice that she often uses when she senses I am sensitive.  I busied myself with taking out the trash, "Nothing. I'm fine." I reply, end of conversation.

I joined her on the couch, starting off on the chase opposite of her and inching my way closer until finally, "I missed you."

"What's wrong babe?" She soothed as I cried into her chest.


So then there was a lot of crying (by me) and soothing (by her) and then I felt all better!  I was even all chatty patty when she got home last night.

On the downside, she made me an appointment to get a physical tomorrow morning (all I'm hearing is "you're fatness is going to be recorded into your medical history.") and she wants me to talk to somebody.  Obviously, it makes sense and if I were somebody else I would tell me to go get help.  But I'm not somebody else I'm ME and I want to throw myself on the ground kicking and screaming: Idon'twanna!Idon'twanna!!  so I won't have to go.  However, at 24 years old, this behavior is not only unacceptable but unnecessary because really all I would have to do is stiffen my lower lip, cross my arms over my chest and say, "No. I'm not going." But then the adult in me says to just do it because my mom was right when she said it can get worse and to try and do something now so you know how to get yourself out of it. (Look at all that mother-daughter wisdom!  Who says getting older doesn't mean getting wiser? The Chinese were spot on with that one.) (Generally.  There are exceptions to every rule, of course.) She knows I don't want drugs, I want a lifestyle that is healthy for my mind & body and independent.

(And super skinny.)

(The body might have to compromise for the latter. Sorry Body–just deal.)


As far as my body goes.  I wasn't counting cals while on my period but I was bingeing and since I've have these stupid blisters on my lip I haven't purged.  So I would think that my weight wouldn't really fly off the handle but a horse is a horse of course of course and my body felt ginormor-ongous and my jeans confirmed. I was puffy and bloated all over I was chug, chug, chugging water and feeling like amebas on flees on rats on horseshit.   But the only way to feel better was to point my finger to the heavens ahead and shout, "Onward with the Restriction!"

(In my mind, of course.  I'm not a crazy person.)

(Yet.)

I've noticed improvements (bloating went down) but I'm still ascared of the scale because my thighs are about the size of a Redwood trunk only shorter and they've been touching and getting all fresh with each other and doing some kind of come hither jiggly wiggly mating dance or something.

I know...  Ew is right.  Be glad you are reading about and not seeing it in. the. mirror.

Anyhoodle, this was the first part of Monday, I wrote it before I went to class.  I intended to post it but I sent it to Nowheresville in CyberSpace because I put the wrong e-mail addy.

(I'm trying to practice my remembering and recording what the hell is going on because someday I will be a good writer! Until then... practice makes perfect right? Right.)

Falling Under the Apple Tree

My mom came home while I was in the shower, I knew then that I would not make it to class. She knocked on the door happily calling out to me, happy to be home.  I couldn't even speak.  A spurt of tears fell but I managed to squeeze my eyes shut and breathe my way through.

Robed and in my room, she knocked and entered. "Can I have a hug?" 

Wrapped in her arms I held my breathe and squeezed my eyes shut. 

"I missed you!" she says; and she does. She's all bubbly and briefly briefs me on her vacation (a rarity for her–she tends to overdo it on the details. Ex: Was it a blue sign or a purple sign...? She'll ponder when the point is what the sign said, color is irrelevant!). I tried to be congenial but I was fighting tears and forcing smile. Concentrating on keeping my voice steady and my lips from quivering. She let me alone to finish gettin ready for school, she thinks.  And she probably thinks she caught me in a mood, sad that I didn't reciprocate her cheeriness.  I wanted to be happy with her but it was Come One, Come All! on the emotional front.  I'm so sorry Mom, my sadness is raging bull I'm trying to keep at bay.

I cry in spurts  while getting clothes on and when I look in the mirroring I break, and break some more. Trying to sob quietly so she won't hear.  She's cheery and home I can't let my tears rain on her parade.  I separate my clothes doing my best to keep the sobs at bay, dirtying my clothes even more wiping the snot and tears from my puffy face.

My clothes are separated.  She must realize by now that I'm not going to class and wonder why I've not come out of my room. Whether she has heard my sniffles or not she will not know how to approach the bomb field she knows my moods and emotions to be.

I don't know what to do. I can't burden her with this. I just want it to go away and never be known to her, or anybody. I hate that mothers will inherit a daughters emotions. I can't stop crying. I can't leave my room.

This is the whole reason I hoped I would be gone when she came home. (To school not goneGone.) 

I'm trying to hang on to what is left but I can't hold onto my pride at the same time.  It's one or none.

Finally, I pull myself together enough to put on make up (sans eyeliner & mascara for obvious reasons) and face my mom.  I am composed when I ask her to tell me about her trip busying myself with food/coffee/water while I listen.

She told me how upset she was for most of the weekend because of comments made by the man in the couple that they went with.  Everything she said or did he would tease her and she had to keep reminding herself that "that's just the way he is" and do her best to let it go. 

Evidently it was not going anywhere, only growing on her pre-menstruating nerves because she was able to tell me ALL about it.  She gave me a play by play of the days on vacation (in her usual detail-y fashion) and how she finally broke on Friday or Saturday because she just wasn't able to "shake it off" any longer.

For 10 days she endured the teasing-even after she broke because she endured in silence, further retreating into herself with each passing comment because acting normally would only egg him on more.  When she cried she cried alone in the room so nobody could see her tears only the redness of her eyes.

Sound familiar?

She would emerge with fresh make, a fake smile and will to ignore the teasing and not spoil the weekend.  Unfortunately, she didn't do a fantastic job of it.  When her boyfriend asked if he had done something to piss her off she said could say no with honesty.  When he asked her what was wrong, she lied and said, "Nothing. Just let it go." with her less than fantastic fake smile and act.  She knew even if she told him not to, he would say something to TheTeaser which would just make things worse.

I smiled and added my observations, questions, even some jokes and smiles.  There were moments when I felt emotions and tears well up but I looked away or distracted myself to hide them.  I was surprised at how well I masked myself, she could tell I was hiding a mood but trying.

Then it came time to ask about my last 10 days and it was obvious that I was on the verge of bursting into tears but I kept it on the verge with short answers and distracting myself with doing the dishes.  

Dishes helped, the mask is back up.

I'm off to school in a bit, actually right now.  I'm uncomfortable in my skin I'm fat, puffy and bloated ALL OVER.  EVERYWHERE.  I can't sit or stand without it tugging at my thoughts but better that than all emotional, right? Right? Damn. Lose/lose.   

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em

I still don't want to play the game of Life but apparently there is just no way around it (since dying requires actual effort for me and I'm clearly a sloth so effort is out of the question).

I'm not all Rocky punching skies with "eye of the tiger" playing in the background but my eyes are a little more open today, my breathing a little more steady and the thought of class and not having my assignments done doesn't send me into tears...wait...no, no tears.  So this is a step in the right direction.

I saw that I lost a follower, I try not to pay attention to the number but I did and noticed it's one less.  And then it occurred to me how depressing my blog has been since... well, long enough for a person to go through all the trouble it takes to find my blog from a long list of blogs and hit the trash can (it's efforty).  Long enough for somebody to be like, Damn, this girl is not bouncing back.  This is not just a slump-positivity and humor are out the window. I considered taking a short hiatus from posting until my brain starts thinking somewhat happy or hopeful thoughts again but then I reminded myself that I write this blog first and foremost for myself.  My toilet of truth and I will continue to be honest with how I'm feeling.  Some people have a clear purpose for their blogs like: "pro-ana" or "dieting" or even traveling but this blog's focus is me- through my ups and downs or just whatever I'm going through (or not going through) (going through requires effort.).  

(I'm narcissist apparently)

This made me realize that I need to get myself out of this slump cuz the shit ain't doin on it's own.  Life just gets worse if you don't play along (sadly, this kind of sounds appealing) (but wrong-I know it's wrong).  I wasn't ever a happy person but at least at some point in this blog I was a work in progress.

I posted once saying that if you try then it means there is an inkling of hope/belief you might succeed, otherwise, why try, right?  Well, I woke up this morning with an itsy bitsy, teeny weeny smidgen of hope that I can turn things around and be better.  I also woke up with an insane headache too but that's neither here nor there I suppose.  

"There is a thought in your mind right now. The longer you hold on to it, the more you dwell upon it, the more life you give to that thought. Give it enough life, and it will become real. So make sure the thought is indeed a great one." 

-- Ralph Marston

"Man is made or unmade by himself. In the armory of thought he forges the weapons by which he destroys himself. He also fashions the tools with which he builds for himself heavenly mansions of joy and strength and peace." 

-- James Allen

I'm so random, it's no wonder I'm having a hard time in English! Hippity Hop from one thought to the next with no clear path...

I love you all and thank you so much for your comments. Just being there, you are helping me.  Zena, I read your blog and I'm so sorry your eyes caught my depressing post but I do appreciate your comment and it sort of put things kind of in perspective (as much as anything could penetrate my state of mind). 

It's Easter

My mom is on the other side of the continent, my family members are all off doing their own thing.  I'm sure they would extend an invitation if they knew I was doing nothing, in fact, my Sis did invite me to go to the park to celebrate the holiday with her hubby's side of the family.  I ignored her text last night asking me if I still wanted to go.  In fact, I've ignored every text I've received in the past 24 hours, I've not left the house since Wednesday or done anything at all.

I am depressed.  I know now.  I don't have any desire to do anything at all.  Yesterday I turned the TV (around 5ish) off and sobbed in the silence of my home.  I was actually trying to cry, trying to get this emotion–this sadness out of me.  I was trying to force the stubborn tears out, I made sobbing noises until I realized.  I was stuck.  I could not cry but I couldn't not sob.  I couldn't breathe but I didn't want to.  My body wretched on the couch pushing against anything, my eyes squeezed shut and my mouth stretched open, I just wanted it to be out.  I don't know what it is but it's still festering inside of me.  And then I was hugging myself in fetal position unblinking and staring at nothing, not breathing and willing myself to just die.  Imagining a ghostly fist entering my body and clutching my heart to stop it from beating.

I managed to will myself to sleep disappointed each time my phone chimed a text or an e-mail that I was still alive.  I want die.  I want to be dead.  I just don't want to do it.

And still today, I ignore my texts. My mom texted me a picture of her boyfriend holding up a fish he caught and then hours later she texted again with "I don't understand, is that how you feel?" I panicked and wondered if I had sent her something I tweeted?  I didn't but I'm still confused as to what it means.  I didn't reply because I am dead.   I don't trust myself to text, if it is happy it will be fake and if it is morbid it will be in her mind and she'll wonder if I am depressed or if I'm just being dramatic.

Actually, that's what she always thinks when I say I wish I were dead.  Only when I am a wreck does she consider that I am depressed and hurting.  But she only thinks this grudgingly, convincing herself that I've just hit a little rough patch, cry a little put a bandaid kiss it better and get back out there.  When she sees a sign of normal-person behavior she puts her mind back at ease that it's just me and I'll be fine.  She can't handle the thought that there is something completely wrong with me.  She thinks I am strong and that I have so much potential.  It's all a lie.  I am not strong with potential, I am weak and a waste of life.

I am a waste of life.  I am sorry Mom that I couldn't be more for you, I try but I can never seem to get it right.  There is always something wrong.  And if I don't try–it doesn't remind you of what a failure I am and how I am continually missing the mark.  I am sorry for being me, I wish you birthed a daughter with life inside of her.  The only thing tethering me to it is that I love you and I want you to love me too.  I feel like if I kill myself you will hate yourself for it.  Your only daughter.  I don't even understand why you love me at all.  Do you just love the idea of me?  Of having a daughter?  It must be that. How can anybody love me?  I've been a moody nightmare most of my life.  If indifference is a mood at all.

I'm sorry I'm not happy.  It certainly sounds like a nice idea but there is so much sadness inside me, I don't know why or how but I feel it.  I don't think it will ever go away and I just don't know how much longer I can go with it, I want to get it out of me but I don't know how.  It won't leave on a boatload of tears and sobbing.  I can numb it in stuff and distractions but it only returns when the distractions are gone.  I don't have the energy for distractions anymore.  I just want to go to sleep and never wake up again.  Maybe if that's how I go it will be less sadness my mom will feel.

"Her body just stopped functioning.  No drugs or alcohol...it just stopped." The doctors will tell her.  She won't understand it but she'll go on telling herself that I wanted to live and I wanted to do great things.

I'm sinking

I'm sinking into depression, I think.  On Wednesday I was driving to school (35-40 minutes away) and from minute 5 until I parked I was fighting tears.

And losing.

You know how you fold a hose to stop the water and then the pressure starts building up and leaking through?  That's what it felt like inside of me.  I tried to tighten my grip on the hose but the pressure was still building.  A couple of time I lost it for a few moments, sobbed maybe even convulsed a little because I was fighting it so hard and focused on folding that damn hose again.  Crying hysterically is not safe driving. (Not that I was thinking of preserving my own life, I was more concerned with my car and other people.)  I cried silently most of the way, trying to think how I normally stifle these feelings.

I thought about dying though.  The idea of drowning was actually appealing, with all the emotions welling up inside of me I felt like I was already halfway there.  Although the idea seemed fitting to the feelings I just couldn't do it to my mom.  Especially because she is on vacation, can you imagine coming home and finding your daughter dead in the pool?  I tried.

Healthy thinking?

Exactly, I'm pretty sure I'm depressed.  Tuesday night when I came home I was feeling very upset and I thought, "this is the kind of night where my mom will notice and coax it out of me and I'll sob hysterically and choke out, I. Don't. Knowow-boohoo hoooo... when she asks me for the 18th time what is wrong.  I'll try and simplify my emotions and just say that I hate myself and I'm a failure.  I don't say what I'm really thinking usually, my mom has a hard time with death.  There's been a few suicides in her life, one being her brother.  

I digress.

I got to school, got a good parking spot, wiped the black streaks off my face, fought, leaked again, started my car and drove back home.  There is just no way that I would have been able to hold myself together for an hour and half and I know my teacher will say something to me and I'll explode.  There is no way in hell I'm going to put myself in a situation where I fall apart in front of an entire class.  Or just anybody in general, actually.

Driving back home I considered calling my Sis and crying on her shoulder but then I couldn't.  I'm too far gone into depression, it's humiliating.  It's a general failing at life.  I couldn't call my mom but, like I said, she's on vacation.  Really, what's that gonna do but plant a little seed of sadness in her brain, she doesn't need to be feeling sad when she's on vacation.  I didn't even want to talk about it because I really just don't know what the hell is wrong with me (besides everything).  I just wanted a hug, preferably from my mom.  It helped to imagine her arms around be telling me it's alright but I still don't feel alright.

It wasn't until I got home and ate, not because I was hungry but just because, that I actually felt I had numbed myself of the overwhelming emotions (as per usual).  I guess my body distracted itself with digesting and feeling fat.

I don't know what to do with myself.  I'm slowly slipping through the cracks.  I've already alienated myself from people.  No job.  Just school and that's slipping too.  I got my second essay back and I still suck at sentence construction and writing with a purpose (not at all surprising).  On the bright side, she did say I had a "wonderful witty way" about my writing which I accredit to my sentence construction issues and writing without purpose, of course.  You can't have your cake and eat it too Nazi de English.

I'm fat and growing and terrified of the scale.  My clothes are all tight.  I know I need to step on the scale and face the [sad, sad] music but I hate reality (in case you missed that in the whole Icryfornoreason or drowningsoundsnice).  I really do just want to be dead, I have absolutely no energy or will for anything.  I've been silently crying while I type this post wondering what it will take to turn things around and there is nothing.  Anytime I think of the future there is depression in the air, a darkness to the light, I am in slow motion and the thinks around me seemed to be at a normal speed.

I'm drowning.  I wonder if I can die with my thoughts alone.  If I can go to sleep tonight and never wake to tomorrow.  I wonder if I can tell my lungs to stop breathing, my heart to stop beating and my mind to shut down indefinitely.

Today was a little better, I spent most of the day stuffing my gob in front of the tv. (Okay, all of the day-save the hour or so I spend to shower and squeeze into actual pants.)  I got absolutely nothing done.  No laundry (I just might have to wear my bikini bottoms tomorrow in lieu of underwear) and I missed class. Again.  I have always been one to go to school and work, not the play hookey type.  I've forced myself to go to work when I couldn't walk, when I couldn't breathe and when I was barely functioning because I just didn't see any sense in skipping–it only makes more work when you return.

A couple of summers ago I couldn't stop crying at work, had to leave early and I sobbed uncontrollably for 2 days.  I thought drowning was a nice idea then too.  I can feel the pressure, even now, in the back of my throat pushing at me willing me to indulge and stop fighting the tears.  The thing is I'm afraid that once I let them come they will be relentless and I will not be able to shut them off.

Eating, purging, smoking–all done in excess and all affecting my throat. (Yes, I would stress and chain smoke my throat raw.)  Come to think of it, I stopped smoking when I turned 21, 2 months later I was swallowing my fingers.  I have a problem with alcohol too, once I get to a certain drunkeness it's all or nothing and all is basically alcohol poisoning myself.  I puke until I black out.

It seems that, ultimately, it's always my throat that takes the beaten when I indulge.