Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Yet again, inadequate.

It's literally like no matter how hard I try, nothing ever works out how I want it to.

This year, I was supposed to have the lead role, great costumes, a wonderful boyfriend, an amazing body, and everything was supposed to fall into place.

This year, I got a shit part, the girl who got the lead has costumes ten times better than mine, I'm still fucking single for the eighteenth year of my life, I'm fatter than I was this time last year, and nothing is working out.
I also started throwing up my food, to add to my attractiveness.
There's always a catch, always SOMETHING has to fucking go wrong and then screw EVERYTHING fucking else up.

I was honestly contemplating suicide while I was in the shower. And I mean, I don't usually do that sort of thing, since I'm absolutely petrified of dying. But I was thinking about it, and how much fun it would be to go away forever and screw her fucking play up. They wouldn't have the play if one of the cast members was DEAD.

I'm going insane. I'm going absolutely fucking crazy and no one notices. No one notices when I start staring off into space, no one notices when I eat like a fucking pig, no one notices when I don't eat. I don't think they would notice if I just started purging right in front of them. I just want someone to realize that something's wrong, that my smile is so fucking fake. I want someone to hug me and tell me everything will be okay.

But no one will.
Because no one knows anything is wrong.

And every day, I pick my smile back up and put it on with fresh tape.
And eventually the tape won't be able to hold its weight.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Versatile Blogger Award

Thank you Lillie and Mina for this award!


1. Thank the person who loved you enough to bestow this gift

2. Share seven things about yourself.

3. Bestow this honor onto 10 newly discovered or followed bloggers– in no particular order– who are fantastic in some way.
4. Drop by and let your ten new friends know you admire them.

The Seven Things
I'm an incredibly selfish and self-absorbed person.
2. I love animals and being in nature. I'm not fond of bugs, but I deal with them.
3. My favorite color is red.
4. I love quotes. I love looking up quotes, and I love writing them down in my quote book.
5. I play guitar, I have been for almost two years now.
6. I want to be a musical theatre actress.
7. My favorite number is eight, so I'm going to put eight things. Otherwise it will bother me.
8. I love A Day To Remember and Say Anything.

The Eight People (has to be eight, sorry. I'm a rule-breaker)
1. Heather: I haven't talked to you in so long! She's one of the first people I talked to on Blogger.
2. Zette: I know you've probably gotten this about ten thousand times already. She's one of the most inspirational people on here.
3. Anne: She had to delete her blog, but I've been emailing her (somewhat erratically, I'm sorry dear! It's Hell Week!)
4. Lillie: She's always posting amazing comments and encouraging everyone. I love you!
5. Lost In Space: She always reminds me- 2011 = Skinny 1's! And we're like the same person, so...
6. Lola: She is literally the cutest thing in the world.
7. Lund3on: I love her posts so much, it's not even funny. Of course, I'm a lazy bitch and rarely comment, but I still love them!
8. Lou: She's incredibly inspirational and has started doing some amazing vlogs lately!

Monday, March 28, 2011

The girl in the mirror.

"When will my reflection show who I am inside?"

I'm getting fatter and fatter with each passing day. I look terrible.
I feel nice. Well, less spinny, anyway.
But I look terrible.
And I kind of miss the spinny feeling.
But I can't run AT ALL this week (play practice until 8 every night), and food is ALWAYS present (hello, Binge Monster).

I need to LOSE WEIGHT. I need to stop being a fucking fatass. I need to stop bingeing and eatingandeatingandeating.

Black coffee. Diet Coke. Salad.
Black coffee. Diet Coke. Salad.
Black coffee. Diet Coke. Salad.

Someone tell me something to make me hate myself so much I just stop eating completely. Forever.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Hell Week

I'm so exhausted.

My diet this week will consist of black coffee, Diet Coke, and salad.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Becoming Alaska: First Order of Business

Becoming Alaska
First Order of Business

I'm starting a new blog segment. I know my blog is usually just random crap and I never follow through with rituals, but I'm going to start.
So, this is Becoming Alaska.
Coincidentally, the title of my new journal.

The point of this journey is not to be Alaska, nor to simply be a better version of me.
As my journal-self put it, "I'm becoming the Alaska-version of me."

And the First Order of Business is:

Alaska is witty and comical and takes shit from NO ONE. She is blatantly against misogyny (grab a dictionary if you don't know), and complains frequently about women being portrayed as objects (yet objectifies herself by wearing revealing clothing). She is a big messy ball of contradictions.

So, for the First Order of Business, I will stop being complacent. I will voice my opinions about what's wrong with the world (even if I myself may directly contradict those opinions- Hey, I never denied being a hypocrite!), I will not let myself be walked upon, and I will be an absolute badass.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011


I always idolize characters in TV shows and books (books especially), wanting to be them.

Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley (Harry Potter), Blair Waldorf (Gossip Girl), Massie Block (The Clique), Serena (Sailor Moom, Sakura (Cardcaptors) Mikan (Gakuen Alice. DON'T JUDGE, I LOVE MANGA), Lia (Wintergirls), and Cassie (Skins) have all been girls I'd love to be.

And I've found a new one.

Alaska Young, from the novel Looking for Alaska, by John Green.

She is described as: "...gorgeous, clever, funny, sexy, self-destructive, screwed-up, and utterly fascinating..."

Two out of seven isn't that bad, is it?

Basically, this is a book you should read. It's... Holy shit, man. Holy shit.

That's all I have to talk about today. Sorry.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

I'm down to 168.something after stuffing myself tonight.
Before I ate I was 166.8 (fuck).

I was 175.6 at the beginning of March, 173 on... sometime last week? I don't remember. And I'm trying to lose these eight pounds in ten days.

Which should be plausible, but because it's me... You all know. :]

My friend told me that he's gay today. It was... well, surprising, mostly because he's super-Catholic and his dad is... Well, his dad's not the nicest, most compassionate guy in the world. This kid's been through a lot over the past year (he was in an abusive household, now he lives with his aunt), and now he's coming out.
He's so adorable, though.

@Heather; I've missed you! I'm really out of shape too. I can't run for very long, I have to run and walk too, so you're not alone!

@Anne; I'd love to stay in touch! My email is, if you want to email me. :]

@Lillie; Thank you. :] You're beautifuller. Ahaha, God, I'm so overtired right now I'm making up words.

@Zette; It's so lovely that you're back! Everyone should check out It's what I listen to when I'm sleeping!

I ran again today. And I've been doing arms and abs every day (that is, for the past two days). My muscles are sore. And I officially have diarrhea right now, no idea why (I know, TMI. Get over it).

I need sleep. Goodnight lovelies. :]

Monday, March 21, 2011

I happen to be a pathetic excuse for a human being.

Not to mention desperate.

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile. There's a lot of thoughts jumbling around in my head right now... It's not on straight.

I've had 217.5 calories so far today. I'm so afraid I'm going to binge later. So afraid.

Fuck, I just want to be skinny. Why do I keep self-sabotaging?

Actually, I know why I sabotage myself. It's a protective thing (which sounds weird, I know) to protect myself from the disappointment of failure, should I fail.
Which is completely ridiculous, because sabotaging myself equals failing.
So, I'm psycho.

But we knew that.

I'm going to go run. It's raining out. I love running in the rain.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

I hate people.

My cheerleading coach decided to make the day of our banquet (when we all get together, we reminisce, the captains-that's me- give awards, etc.) the same day as the final rehearsal for our spring musical.
At the exact same time.

And I'm sitting over here like, "Hell no. We change the time or we change the date. I might not have an amazing part, I might not do a whole lot, but fuck dammit, I'm going to be there when I need to be. So we change the time, or we change the date."

Apparently, we can't change the time, because there's a group scheduled right after us. And the next available date is in June.
Now, I'm FINE with having it in June. Or even moving it to another place.

There's another girl, who was the senior captain for basketball season (I don't cheer for basketball).
She makes a big deal at play practice about how we need to "learn our dances, and be at practice, doing what we need to do" (mind you, no one listens to her).

And now, as the four of us captains are trying to get together to plan our awards, she says, "Oh, I'll just leave play practice early to get to banquet a little late."

I'm sorry. I've NEVER claimed to be a good role model, but at least I can fucking commit and not be a total fucking flake. I can't stand people who are wishy-washy. She won't stand up to our damn coach, WHO ISN'T EVEN HER COACH ANYMORE.
I called her out on it too. She hasn't responded to the message yet (the captains are communicating via Facebook message right now), but I know she will. And she'll say something to piss me off.

I plan on emailing my coach about this. Because not being able to attend my own SENIOR BANQUET is completely unfair.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Just another quick post, I'm sorry. ;)

So, I've been throwing around the same five pounds for the past three-four-five months, which is not good. I'm going to be onstage in less than two weeks.
I need to be around the same weight I was last year, so I need to lose fifteen pounds.

But if I lose fifteen pounds (BIG IF), all my costumes will be too big for me, and my mom will be mad for not measuring (even though the measurements currently are too small for me in sections... I fudged it a bit, hoping to lose more weight before she could finish).

I started painting again today. I've never liked watercolors much, I prefer acrylics, but Jesus, watercolor pencils are AMAZING.

I have to go to bed now, because I am exhausted and it's 23 minutes past "bedtime".
Yep. High school senior. Have a bedtime.

Goodnight. Think skinny 1's for 2011. :]

Monday, March 14, 2011

Breaking point.

I always think about who the first person I tell about my secret life is.
And how it will be.
And what will happen, and who will say what, and who the first person to put their arms around me to hug me while I'm sobbing will be.

And sometimes I think, "Well, what if they just don't care? What if they don't want to deal with me, because I'm fucked and they don't want to get fucked?"
I mean, that's rational, right? We have a natural human instinct to protect ourselves before others (with exceptions like mother and child?).

Just a few thoughts. Sorry I haven't given you guys a real update in awhile (though I know you probably hate my mile-long posts. Or at least groan when you see them :]).

For your viewing pleasure, click to see my most-hated song of the moment. I love laughing at it, you might too!

Tuesday, March 8, 2011


So, if you've been an avid reader of my blog (hah), you know my obsession with epiphanies, and how I have them sporadically, but when I do, they're like a, "Holy crap giant realization about my life," sort of thing.
Or, at least, in my head they are.

Well I had an epiphany recently that I've been meaning to share with you guys.
Actually, two, I just realized one in the shower tonight (it's where I do all my best thinking).

First Epiphany
I really don't care too much about what my body looks like at this point.
I mean, I obviously do, because I'm a fat slobby pig.

But it's not what motivates me anymore.
What motivates me is
1) The euphoria from vomiting (yeah, I know, gross, but it's like a little adrenaline rush).
2) The feeling of hurting (like from my stomach hurting, like from my head hurting from not eating, like from my throat hurting from purging).

The second one, in my mind, is complex, because I hate pain. I hate physical pain, I hate bleeding, which is why I don't cut (I've said I hate throwing up in the past, so who knows, maybe I'll cut some day).
But see, when I'm hurting mentally, the only thing that feels right is to hurt physically as well. Because then maybe the mental pain will hurt less.

(Also, I like talking in parentheses. But we knew that.)

Second Epiphany
I'm an artist. Maybe not the best artist in the world, but I'm an artist. I love fine arts, creative arts, if I can put my hands on it and create, I like it.

I think that's why I like fucking with my body and my weight.
Because it's the only thing I can change without like, surgery.
I mean, I can change my hair color, but that doesn't last long.
And I can paint my nails.
But nothing says "CREATE" like shaping my body into something new.

Who knows? After I get skinny, maybe I'll be like that lady who wants to weigh 1,000 pounds and just get really really fat.

Probably not.

Silver lining.

I told you all about that one act play I wrote? About the girl with inner voices, eating disorder, etc.?
And how it got entered in a contest?

Well, it made it to the semi-final round.

So, in a few weeks, I'm going to have it read (out loud, by student actors) in front of a panel of judges, and they'll critique it, and tell me what I should edit. Then I'll edit it, and submit a final draft.
I have a potential to be one of seven (or is it nine?) winners, who get to have their play performed by student actors in a ceremony for the winners.

I couldn't be happier.

Well, yeah, I could. But right now, this is lifting me up, and other things aren't bringing me down so much.

Today, I went to see a world-famous speaker. As a woman was introducing him, my dad leaned over and said, "She could stand to skip a few meals."

Excuse me?!?

I meant to respond to this comment awhile ago:
Luckily, I'm a high school senior, so next year I'll be moving out and living in a college dorm. So I'll be getting out and away from my dad's negative influence. So all I need to do is survive three more months (in June I move out and live at camp practically all summer), and I'll be a lot better. :]

Thank you all for your beautiful comments. I love you so much.

Monday, March 7, 2011

I don't want to purge.
I don't want to.

But I just ate four Snickers.
Of course I'm going to.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Dear Dad,

I really love it when you make comments about me stretching out your men's XL sweatshirt. It really makes me feel good knowing that my fat hips can stretch out something approximately ten inches wider than them.
I love that your stupid comments about getting in shape trigger me to binge. Because all I ever want is the opposite of what you want, so if that means being fat and ugly, so be it.
But I don't want to be fat and ugly. I just don't want you to take credit for me being skinny. This is why I need to move out, because all you do is motivate me to eat and gain weight.
Telling me that I'm unhappy just pisses me off, because you're too busy living in your fucking online poker game to pay attention to what's going on in my life. And you're too busy being a fucking hypocrite for me to take you seriously.
So next time you have a comment about clothing, my body, what I put in it, or what I do to it, take it, and shove it right up your hairy fucking fat ass.
Because no one cares.

Your Darling Daughter

Friday, March 4, 2011

My character flaws.

I'm obsessive.
I'm childish.
I'm petulant.
I'm a perfectionist. And if one little thing gets screwed up... EVERYTHING is screwed up.
I go fucking nuts when everything is screwed up, and do whatever the fuck I want.
I'm not very emotional in front of people.
I have a hard time opening up.
I never really say what's going through my mind.
I don't like to be touched.
I really do like to be touched, I just don't like people touching me. Especially without permission.
I don't like letting people see that I'm not perfect.
I'm a sore loser.
I don't ever know what to say in emotional situations.
I procrastinate. A lot.
I must be consistently grammatically correct. If I'm not sure, it bothers me.


There's this guy in a few of my classes. I'll call him G. He's one of the "popular" guys, and he's always been kind of a manwhore.
But this year, he's been really nice to me.
I totally have a crush on him.
He totally has a girlfriend.

Today, in my Economics class, we had to go to our project groups, then my teacher decided that we needed to go back to our seats.
As I was moving all my stuff back, he just came up to me and gave me a hug. I've never even talked to him before this year.

He's really tall. I mean, he plays football, so he's pretty much a brick wall.
A few years ago, I was playing basketball against him in gym class, and he stopped right in front of where I was running.
I literally bounced off of him.
And we all know that I'm not the skinniest, lightest thing out there.

And in Drama, while we're working on stage combat, if we're standing and listening to my professor teach us something, hes always facing towards me. Like you know how body language experts say that if a guy positions his pelvis (read: penis) towards you, he's supposed to be into you or something?
Not that I believe that shit, but whatever.

I decided to test another body language thing, where if someone is into you, they instinctively copy your body language (like, if you cross your arms, they cross their arms).
I dunno if he's into me or not, but that subliminal shit WORKS. I noticed he was standing the same way I was: legs spread apart, arms crossed, with his body angled toward me. So, I tested it, and dropped my arms to my sides. Within thirty seconds, his arms were at his sides. So, I crossed my arms again. And within thirty seconds, his arms were crossed again. I stood up with my feet closer together and put my arms down, and he did the same.

I gotta say, it was pretty amusing for me.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

It's FUCKING stupid.

It's absolutely fucking stupid that I barely eat anything ALL FUCKING DAY and only lose 0.2. SO FUCKING STUPID.

I want to get out of this body and go fly around as a spirit. At least then I wouldn't weigh anything.

Not gonna lie to you guys, not getting comments makes me sad. :[
There, I said it. I'm an attention whore.
Do with it what you will.
(Feeding it, probably not the best option).


Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Coming at you with a special round of offensiveness!

I think I've officially fucked my metabolism up. Forreals.

Like, looking back on my posts last year, at the time it felt like it was taking forever to lose weight, but it really didn't... I actually lost weight quite quickly.

And now, I barely eat all day (okay, I did eat, I had three Reese's cups, 1/3 cup of cottage cheese, 1 medium banana, and 1 Carnation Instant Breakfast, this was before I got home and went for a run and ate dinner- 4 soy chicken nuggets and french fries), and when I weigh myself (before I eat, after I get home from school, before I run), I've only lost 0.6? And after running, after dinner, I weigh 0.8 more. It's like, normal meals don't work, restricting doesn't work, NOTHING WORKS.

Keep truckin' on, I guess.
Going to eat less tomorrow.
Preferably as close to nothing as possible.

Love you guys, thank you for your comments. <3

Random Vulgarities/Offensive Comments of the Day

Q: What's funnier than a dead baby?
A: A dead baby in a clown costume.


Blue waffle (if you don't know and want to be grossed out... Google it.)

Q: A man runs over his wife. Whose fault is it?
A: The man, he shouldn't be driving in the kitchen.


Tuesday, March 1, 2011

In the swing of things.

Purged today for the first time since the last week of January. I went a WHOLE MONTH without purging.

Note to everyone (and to self):
Don't purge and then expect to be able to go for a run. Just don't.

I'm really tired right now so this isn't a very good post.
Woke up at 175.6, going to bed around 174.5.
Not bad. Could be better.

I just need routines. Once I get my routines set up, I'll start doing better.
I swear.

I went running on icy roads today. I came back with a swollen, purple, bloody knee.
It's super cute.