Monday, November 30, 2009

Crazy shit man.

Someone PLEASE tell me how I managed to GAIN A WHOLE POUND AND TWO OUNCES on a LIQUID FAST DAY.
I'm so pissed it's not even funny. I didn't even eat over 500 calories. I think I'm going to try ABC, because clearly liquid fasting does nothing for me right now, starting tomorrow. Which will technically be day 2, considering I managed less than 500 today (I hate starting at Day 1, I don't know why. It's intimidating).
This means I'll eat at lunch without people questioning me about why I'm not eating. A friend offered to buy me a Snickers today. Snickers is possibly my one weakness, beside brie cheese. I refrained, but it was devastating to my inner COE watching her eat that Snickers right in front of me.
And now I need to stop procrastinating and write my term paper.

PrettySkinnyAndTall

Is what I want to be. However, the current topic is not that, it's actually my fucking PSAT scores. Which. SUCK. Usually, I'm the kind of person who doesn't study and gets an A+. My PSAT scores would tell you otherwise, however. So I'm looking around on my school's website, and stumble across the college site (it's a website to help us get into college, I guess). So I think, "Oh, maybe my PSAT scores are up by now!"
Unfortunately, they were. I got a 160 on my PSAT, equivalent to a 1600 on the SAT. My life is so fucked. No scholarship offers now, there go my chances of making NHS (actually, those chances flew out the window when I got my first 89 in history..), there goes my journalism career. Fuckit.
On a brighter note, my liquid fast went incredible today. I had coffee (with lots of sugar and fat-free milk) for breakfast, a VitaminWater10 for lunch, and I'm currently drinking my soup for dinner. Unfortunately, my dad is sleeping in the only room with a scale, so I can't properly weigh myself. I weighed myself with shorts and a cami, and I'm back UP a pound again. I was so pissed at myself I stormed downstairs and ate a banana and a cheese stick. Failure.
I'm having another coffee while I write my psychology term paper...my life is so screwed right now. I might as well just give up- I'm not going to make it into college.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Fail

I can never make it. Fuck me. Fuck.
I was doing so so sooo well. My stomach was growling and it felt good. Then someone said something about Bruegger's (the most amazing bagels in the entire world). I was so happy until I caved. They knew I didn't eat breakfast. They pushed me and nudged me right to Bruegger's. Right to the 320 cal plain bagel with 90 cal cream cheese. Right to the tortilla chips that someone had left out at play practice. Right to the Tantalizing Croissant.
My friend, my skinny, size-00-is-too-big-for-her friend was at play practice with her boyfriend. He kept picking her up, all 95 pounds of her. It made me want to cry, because no guy can lift my fat ass, no one would want to.
Naturally skinny people bug the crap out of me (no offense). Especially the ones who say to me, "Oh my God, I HATE being so skinny. I wish I could just gain some weight. Like I feel so shitty being skinny."
I want to scream at them, "I WANT TO HAVE A BODY LIKE YOURS. STOP TAKING IT FOR FUCKING GRANTED."
I'm so messed up it's not even funny.

"Quod me nutrit, me destruit."

Started my liquid fast today. We went to Dunkin' Donuts before picking my doggies up from the kennel, and my food of choice? Liquid sin. I looked it up before that one small Strawberry Coolatta is actually 300 fucking calories. However, I refused the buttery croissant that my mom brought to the car, that sits downstairs taunting me, threatening to end my fast before it's begun. 
I'm working on my grocery shopping/lunch foods list, seeing as I won't be going, thanks to my evil dictator director calling a SUNDAY play practice. Um, what? Pass, kay thanks. So far I've got:
VitaminWater10
Carrots
Celery
Tomato soup (the kind that comes in a cup! :])

The VitaminWater will be lunches, and the soup and broth will be dinners. Breakfasts will be either milk or coffee, though I put enough sugar into my coffee to send a diabetic to the funeral home. 
I'm excited now; the last time I fasted, really fasted, was a few years ago when I was shunned by my school. Everything will be better once I'm skinny.

---

I just looked it up, and the croissant that taunts me is an epic 310 calories, margarine not included. Um, pass. I have ten minutes until I have to leave for play practice, ten minutes to NOT eat. I need to refill a water bottle with cold water- cold water burns calories, or so I hear. It may be a myth, but I can't drink lukewarm water anyway. It's gross.
Okay. Novel of the day is over. I won't write any more today, I must be so annoying.

---

Okay, I said I wasn't going to write anymore, but I'm down a blessed 2 pounds 6 ounces! Thank you Lord! Thank you Ana! Thank you liquid fasting! How is this possible, after everything I ate last night? I'm not truly asking- I'm thankful for the blessing. I'm back to my pre-Thanksgiving weight. Hallelujah!

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Eat less, weigh less.

I'm starting a liquid fast today. I have to lose over eleven pounds in ten days to reach my next goal. Failing the first goal was not part of the plan. Fuck.

Homecoming.

November 28, 2009

The Return Trip

 

            I’ll be lucky if I’m the same weight I was when I left. Scratch that; it’ll be miraculous if I am. I’m not going to get my hopes up and think that “Oh, I lost five pounds by stuffing myself with cookies and turkey!” I’m. Not. Stupid.

            Since I already threw my life away, I’m contemplating making it worse and getting a bunch of awful shit from McDonald’s on the way. I already had a handful of peanuts, cocoa, and water, and I’m feeling sick to my stomach. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. I hate driving I get carsick.

            Just saw a really sad sight: A forest behind a cleared field with Bobcats and dump trucks and all that sort of stuff. Like damn. Why you gotta do that?

            I’m cold. That’s good. You burn more calories when you’re cold. Fuck, I don’t want to be back up to 176 or 180. Fuuuuckkk. Maybe only a hamburger at McD’s. I’m gonna play Spore to burn some time.

---

            I just had a pizza from Pizza Hut, which may or may not be fewer calories than what I would’ve gotten at McDonald’s (two double hamburgers, 9 piece chicken nuggets and a large sweet tea. Fatass.). Who knows.

            If I had internet right now I could check calorie counts. If I were home right now, I wouldn’t be forced to eat this shit by my parents. Ughh.

            I just want to be home so I can puke this shit up. But it’s too late now. Tomorrow and the rest of tonight are fasting, liquids only. Fuck it all. I want to be hoooommeee.

            So it’s funny, because my grandma is apparently giving my cousin T all this awesome jewelry. All I ever fucking get from that bitch are stupid books and poetry. It’s like, FUCK I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR PUBLISHED POEMS, AND I HONESTLY COULD CARE LESS. Like, one Christmas, my Aunt A gave my other cousin B this really pretty ring, it was pink and sparkly, and I think it came with matching earrings. Same aunt gives me fucking pictures frames. In reused boxes. Because she “didn’t know what I would like.” B and I are a year apart. When you’re ten and eleven, there isn’t much difference in what girls like.

---

            Two hours till we’re home. I’m typing with one hand, as I have a grande Caramel Macchiato in the other. I think I’ll watch Sex and the City again.

---

            Home. Pissed. Fat.

            On the shitty side, I only gained one pound over Thanksgiving break. On the shittier side, I can’t stop eating. Something in me just takes my hand and shoves it into the bowl of trail mix. Then takes it and shoves it in my mouth.

            All my friends hate me. C is being a fucking bitch for no reason. I did absolutely nothing to her. It’s what I wouldn’t do for her. If she wants to be in fucking stage crew she can get off her ass and ask the director when stage crew meets. It’s not my job to baby-sit her, right?

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Vacation Hell: Day 1

Days until next goal day: 13

Days until return home: 4

Days to ruin myself: 4

 

            I’m in the car right now. After stuffing shit in my mouth last night, I’m not fit to call Ana a friend. She’s like the “popular” girls to the wannabes: I’m always trying to be her, to listen to what she says and follow her, but I never get it perfect. I'm always three steps behind.

            Sex and the City is amazing thinspo. Sarah Jessica Parker is amazingly skinny, even when she’s old. In our group, I think N would be Samantha, T would be Miranda, and C would be Charlotte. And I would be Carrie. Not that any of us are rich and live in NYC. I would love to though, so if you know anyone who’s offering to make me rich and give me a penthouse in the City, I’m there in a heartbeat.

            My laptop is going to die soon. Fuck.

---

Thank God we're here. I can't wait to see The Princess and The Frog. It looks like such an amazing movie. And finally- a black Disney Princess! Racist of me? Maybe. But you know it's true. They're mostly white, with a few Indians or Native Americans thrown in there for PCness.

I want to go shopping. I want my daddy to buy me some Louboutins. Not that that would ever happen, seeing as the Parents complain every day about money. That's real nice. Na and NW broke up. It's amazing. She was so wrong for her.

Schadenfreude. :]

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

First Goal Day

Today was supposed to be my first goal day. Today was supposed to be the day that I would rejoice, and have a nice reward lunch tomorrow.
Today failed.
I blame myself and the weekend. I blame ice cream. I blame I blame IblameIblameIblame. I blame my lack of willpower.
Today was a moderately good day, until after school. I had lunch (celery, approximately two sticks because I hate celery). I had water (like three or four bottles). And then came the end of the school day. I was getting a ride with two of my friends, who decided to get pizza. When we walked in, I had no money. I told them that, and one of them offered to pay for me. I whipped out the "big lunch" excuse, which was a no go. She had seen that I hadn't actually eaten anything substantial for lunch.
I was so tempted to go buy a Snickers at lunch today. Instead, I refilled my water bottle and chugged it. I was so cold by the end.
The pizza was bad, and the next four days are going to be hard. I'm going out of town for Thanksgiving, and I'm going to be without a scale, under scrutiny from my cousins and family, in a house of skinny people, where all they do is eat. Fuck.

I'd like to take the time for a disclaimer here...despite the fact that probably  no one will read this.
I do not encourage eating disorders. Things that are said here may end up being triggering, so if you're in recovery, please close this window IMMEDIATELY. I know how hard it is living with this shit, and this is me venting and keeping with my goals. If you're going to scold me for having an ED, fuck off, you have no idea. No idea whatsoever.

Monday, November 23, 2009

An Introduction

I don't know why I'm doing this. I've read pro-Ana blogs in the past, and maybe it's time for me to start my own to stay on the fucking track. God knows I need help with that.
A little background to begin?
I was always an outgoing child. Always. The cute little blonde kid with bangs and curly hair, always had friends, always part of the "cool insertgradehere crowd". In the middle of second grade, my world was turned upside down when the daycare I'd been going to since I was born, practically, got shut down. At first I was cool with it. All my friends were going to this new daycare, and I would be too. We'd have fun.
When third grade rolled around, I'm not really sure what happened. But I do know who I wish I could blame for my eating struggles (right now there's no one to blame but myself). A wonderfully charming girl I'll call "L". L was as thin as a rail, naturally. And don't you just hate those naturally skinny girls? I know I do. My best friends are all that way and it kills me inside. Anyway, back to my story.
I was nine. I still had baby fat, partially from the cheese sticks I loved, partially from the fact that I was only a kid. And this girl took it upon herself to make fun of me constantly. I would come home crying day in and day out from the teasing that went on at that hellhole.
I remember one day, I was wearing a bra (this was in fourth grade). L, being a majorly skinny child, had no hope of developing as much as I would. Let me just tell you, my boobs are still growing, and I'm a junior in high school. She's still flat. She made fun of me that day for wearing a bra. I realize now that I should've made fun of her right back, for being underdeveloped, but at that point she had completely destroyed my self-esteem.
And how does this relate to today? Well, since then, I've been a compulsive over-eater. I ballooned at least ten pounds a year up until ninth grade. I've kept my weight pretty steady, but it's been going up this year, due to some similar torment from a senior boy.
It was when he started teasing me that I turned to Ana and Mia for support. Mia I turned on almost immediately. She makes me feel out of control and I extremely do not like that. Ana, on the other hand, helps me with great results, and no one has even begun to question my weird eating. Thankyoujesus.
I'm kind of rambling, but this is what I do. I do it in my written journal, in my typed journal, on here, in the words jumbling from my mouth consistently. I can never get things right or in order.
Counting calories has become easy for me. However, over weekends, when I'm at home and my mom brings home ice cream and sundae fixings, it gets tough. That's why I hope a blog will help me more than just personal writings. If I fail, it's here for the world to see, not just me.
I want to see some bones.