Ashamed.

I'm fucking ashamed right now.

168.2

Gross.
Sorry I don't have a picture. Again, not really something I'd brag/lie about.

Five days and all I've lost is 1.8 pounds.
That's disgusting.
Alright, on my parent's scale it's 166.4.

But we won't believe the scale that's lower.
The scale that says I'm fat(ter) is obviously the correct one.


I can't go run because
a) It's fucking cold out
b)I have a sprained foot
and c) Pretty sure I'm depressed. Which makes me want to sit in my room and do nothing for the rest of my life, however long or short that may be.

So, fuck obligations. I'm going to clean and organize until I pass out.
Oh, and maybe do some of the fucking homework I've put off for the past ten years.

The good die young...

And the bad live out hellishly long existences.

Guess I'll be here with y'all for quite some time.



A girl from my area of New York went missing a little over a week ago.
They finally found her.

She was only 20.


I don't really know why it's affecting me so much. I didn't even know her. A mutual friend of mine was extremely close to her.
But Jesus, I can't stop fucking thinking about it.
I'm having nightmares about it.
And I don't know why.

FUCK YES.

Well.

Alright, I didn't post a scale picture yesterday, but I promise it was 170.0 first thing in the morning. Not exactly something I'd necessarily want to lie/brag about. So just look at the first picture again.


Last night was... Fucking interesting. I think I'm beginning to come to terms with the fact that K (guy from camp who I had the biggest crush on this summer) only likes me as a friend.

(Oh, I wore his sweatpants last night... AND I FUCKING BROKE THEM. Jesus, how fat can I be that I break guy's sweats? The string to tighten them snapped when I put them on.... But I totally didn't tell. :x Fuck, even if I know I'm fat, I'm not fucking admitting it to the world.)


So, we've pretty much decided that I just... Can't get high.
Which kind of sucks, on some levels. Everyone else is laughing hysterically and I'm just sitting there like "..... Dude. Fuck. This is NOT fun."
And I got like -30 hours of sleep last night, because we slept in a cabin with no fucking heat, only a fire that we kept going all night. It got smoky and it was freezing. I literally could not feel my toes.


But I haven't eaten in approximately 24 hours. I had some soda at the party... But no pizza. :]


Gonna go weigh myself... And take a shower. I bet my parents can smell the fucking smoke on me right now...

Apple pie and mashed potatoes for breakfast. Fuck, I'm fat.

Fucksgiving.

Yep.
Binged.
Did so good at mealtime too.


Fuck me fuck me fuck me.

I don't deserve to have nice people (cute guys) who invite me to hang out with them after the party.
Not at all.

Day 2 On The Scale

I know the picture's fuzzy. I can't use my camera to take these pictures, because my camera literally weighs 2 pounds.
So, shitty cellphone pictures are the way to be!
(It says 168.6, by the way.)


I'm really excited, because we finally made plans for after the party tomorrow. And the best part about these plans is that I don't come home tomorrow night. Thank fucking God.


However, this also means I can't eat breakfast on Saturday, if I want to get a decent weight.
And it means I can't eat anything tomorrow, if I want to feel slightly less guilty about eating pizza at the party.

Ah, sacrifices.

Love you guys. Thanks for your beautiful comments!

Day 1 On The Scale.

There's my scale picture for the day, taken AFTER I ate some breakfast (previous weight was 171.4; Go figure). Excuse the nasty fat foot.


Going to the emergency room later today to get my foot x-rayed. Did something to it.
Damn, the little fucker hurts.


Thank you for your lovely comments. I wish I had something awesome to tell you all about, but I don't.

So, sorry.

---

Edit;

Just fucking kidding.
Apparently, it's not a big enough of a deal to go to the emergency room unless I'm unable to walk normally without pain still on FUCKING FRIDAY.

Thanks for taking me fucking seriously, Dad.

So if the chain is on your door, I understand.

I haven't posted in a few days.
Not feeling very exciting.
More like binge-y and gross.
Will probably be about 172 tomorrow, up 2 from today's 170.4. Fuck me.

Starting the five days on the 24th. But getting my act together tomorrow. It's time to lose some motherfucking weight.

You're beautiful;; Every little piece, love.

Thank you everyone for the beautiful comments. :]

I gotta agree, the girl from my previous doesn't have the body type I want. But it's still better than what I have right now.


Do you have a person who is always there for you?

I don't.


Today (since we're in the middle of production for our fall drama), I got put in an insanely bad mood, when someone commented that one of the guys' makeup was better tonight than it was last night (I did it last night... Skinny Annoying Friend did it tonight. I felt better a few hours later when he told me he hated it tonight, and liked last night's so much better). It seems like a silly reason, but I haven't eaten a whole lot today and when I start restricting, I get mood-swingy (and before you ask, I DO feel gross for what I did eat).
So, being my emotional, annoying self, I went and sat on the ground outside.

And the guy I was in the play with last year came over and sat next to me.
I haven't hung out with him in awhile. We don't have many classes together, and he usually prefers to hang with the prettier, skinnier, skankier girls.
So he came, and sat next to me, and messed around with me.

And did it again during the second act (I wasn't in the second act).


He's there when I need him. But not available when I want him.

I'm pretty sure I like that relationship.
I really love him, I wish he could actually be my brother. We pretty much are the same person, and act like brother and sister anyway.
Hey, Mom, let's adopt him.




Anyway, I just wanted to share that a bit.
:]
Love you guys.

Hold me together.

I'm freezing.
Chewing ice.
Freeing....

I just did a "healthy binge", (which is basically me scourging the house for junk food, not finding any, and chowing on grapes, mini chocolate-covered rice cakes and slices of American cheese) and I feel like shit today.

I was looking at college audition requirements for the musical theatre programs I want to get into.
My top choice college has this requirement under dance requirements (all paraphrased, not exact words): "We want applicants to be physically fit and capable of handling the requirements of musical theatre."
I wanted to cry.


My favorite Christmas song is "Breath of Heaven".

"Help me be strong. Help me be... Help me."


I love it.

I also love this girl. She's amazing, and I want her confidence (note, I didn't say I want her figure, her boobs, her legs, her smile, her hair. Her CONFIDENCE).

I gotta go to bed...

But let me tell you this quick:


I was a FATASSCOWPIG today.





(Oh, yeah, and I ate meat. Felt disgusting after.)

Long Live.

As you guys know, I never ever ever ever lie to you.
What's the point in lying to people who understand you better than your "best friends"?

I could tell you that I had an amazing day and didn't eat anything and I'm so proud.
I could tell you that I binged all day morning noon and night and I fucking hate myself.

But I'm going to tell you the truth.

First, I used my negative reinforcement rubber band all day (and I have quite the welt to show for it. I can't cut- I've tried it, it freaks me out about as much as purging does, which, if you know me, is a WHOLE FUCKING LOT. It makes me feel out of control... Which, I suppose is odd, because it gives other people a feeling of control. Anyway, parenthetical rant over), and it helped a little bit.
I wasn't planning on eating at lunch, but I did. I had a chocolate chip cookie, two cups of water and ice, and a teeny part of a sugar cookie.
Which, all in all, for me is not that bad.
I worked twenty minutes on the elliptical during gym class, burning a little over 130 calories, I think. Maybe 120.
Then went to play practice, had two muffins and a cracker.

Went to the store with my mom, bought a giant bag of candy... And cheese sticks (the swirly kind)...
Came home.
Made a considerable dent in both the bag o' candy and the cheese sticks. Had dinner (which my mom insists on making every night this week.), three quarters of a grilled cheese and a spoonful of tomato soup.

I do fucking hate myself.
But I hate myself less than I would have if I had eaten breakfast.
And lunch.
And candy.
And dinner.

Even though I know the scale will be higher tomorrow than it was today.
I'm just in this total state of fucking apathy.


HOWEVER.
This is a time to celebrate. Because I have 100 followers, and 12597 page views! -golf clap-

All of the absolutely amazing comments gave me so much strength today. I can't even begin to tell you.
<3 Thank you all so much.

Hi. :]

I know I went missing for a little while here.

I went missing from my life, too.
Not literally. But figuratively.


And I'm still 170-171. It's gross.
I'm going to try to make some changes. And get my damn act together.
It would be a lot easier, had my mother actually bought what I wanted from the grocery store.

I want to try a 72-hour fast. I know I probably won't make it through two... But I want to try. Starting at midnight tonight. Or is it tomorrow morning, since it's 12 A.M.?

So I'm going to write my plan all out, and bring my notebook so I can go somewhere and do something at lunch that doesn't involve the cafeteria or food.

My fall play is this week, and I'm so nervous.
But next week, I get to see my favorite cousin AND go to the post-Thanksgiving camp party!
But first I have to get through fucking Thanksgiving.
It'll be slightly easier this year since I won't be eating turkey (currently three months meat-free! I had a slip-up in late August...), but that leaves... Oh. Carbs, carbs, and more carbs.
Pass.
Maybe since we won't have guests, I can just convince my parents to let me eat on my own.
Not likely.
And they'll assume something is wrong if I don't eat mashed potatoes...
Stomach virus? Definitely possibility. But it has to be one of those less than 24-hour ones, because I still want to go to the party the next day.
Any other suggestions for the terrifying Thanksgiving dilemma?


Thank you to Dreams.and.Bones, Lost In Space, liz, Lucidity, and Blossom =) for commenting such lovely, nice things on my last post. I love you guys. <3



I have eleven fucking days until this party.
Eleven FUCKING days.
I need to lose something serious.

Day 10: One confession.

I've been thinking about this post for awhile.

(No, that's not the confession).

See, I'm not exactly sure what to confess to.
I could confess to being a complete and utter failure.
But you all already know that.
I could confess to being fat.
But you know that too.
I could confess to being pathetic.
But that's too obvious.


I think I'll confess to this:

I just made myself my own "Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes".
Have you ever read that book?
Or seen "P.S. I Love You"?

Well, basically, I have these really cute note cards with my initials on them, and matching purple envelopes. So I put benchmark weights on the cards (seven, going down from 160 to 100).
So I now have my own "Seven Little Purple Envelopes".
And inside each is a little inspirational/get off your fat ass note.

<3

Don't you hate it

when you lose to someone who you KNOW isn't as good as you?

IT FUCKING SUCKS.
Especially when she's skinny and pretty and everyone's favorite, and even though your song was ten times better than hers, she goes on to the final round and you get left in the fucking dust.
Especially when she sings the same song you were going to sing in the finals. AND YOU WERE GOING TO DO IT BETTER.



Fuck that. Fuck everyone.
Losing to someone like that just fucking sucks. Mostly because it's like a slap in the face, saying, "You're not good enough, but it's because you're fat."


Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
I haven't felt this shitty in a really fucking long time.

I know I'm never going to get the part I want in the musical this year. This is a big fucking wake-up call.
I think it's time to stop fucking trying at everything.
Because all I ever get is disappointed.

Believe me.

Something's different right now.

My mom and I were talking in the car this morning. About food.
She's going on and on about how in her childhood "food equaled love", so now food is comfort to her.
And she "passed it on to me" (her words. Not mine).

Fuck that.
Food isn't comfort.
It's fucking hell.
Whatever "comfort" I may get from it is quickly replaced by guilt for eating the damn thing in the first place.

Food is punishment now.
Slipped up on your diet, Charlie? SHOVE SOME GODDAMN FOOD DOWN YOUR THROAT.
Looking extra-fat today? TIME FOR SOME FUCKING M&Ms. WHAT'S THE POINT OF TRYING? YOU'LL ALWAYS BE A TUB OF LARD.
Pants don't fit right? TRY ANOTHER SANDWICH. THEN YOU'LL HAVE TO BUY NEW PANTS...THREE SIZES BIGGER.

Somewhere over the summer, my Inner Restricting Voice got quieter and quieter. My Inner Binge-Eating Voice has made her ugly, fat-rolled appearance.
Today, IRV got PISSED. PISSED AS FUCK. And put a damn foot down.

Not strong enough to prevent me from eating, but strong enough to make me go run.
It's a start.

Day 9: Two smileys that describe your life right now.

1. :/ (confused, worried, unsure).

2. :) (Not to be confused with :] or C: or :D, :) is a peaceful smile. Not necessarily a happy one).

Day Eight: Three turn-ons.

1. Boy-smell (NOT B.O., the GOOD kind of boy-smell. :])
2. Nice hair.
3. Muscles. Yum.



I like reading your lists a lot. :]

No-Binge November. Also, Day Seven: Four turn-offs.

I'm starting my No-Binge November efforts a little late, but I'm starting, at least.
I have 23 days until my camp-family reunion, and I need to lose approximately an equal amount of weight.
Will it happen?
Probably not.
Will I try?
You fucking bet.



I need to say more, but I have to go to sleep. I'm never going to be able to wake up to do my homework.

Four turn-offs:
1. Bad attitude.
2. Nasty teeth.
3. Body odor.
4. Rudeness.

Day Six: Five people who mean a lot (in no order whatsoever).

1. My mom.
2. My best friend since seventh grade (M).
3. My other best friend (B).
4. K (guy from camp).
5. E (guy I've known forever).

Day Five: Six things you wish you'd never done.

1. Started binge-eating.
2. Texted him first.
3. Thought people would actually like me.
4. Said all that stuff.
5. Had dinner tonight. And last night. And the night before.
6. Been so trusting.



To be completely honest here, I have an instant replay running in my head constantly of stupid things I've done and said.