Sunday, October 2, 2011

So not over it...

I'm terrified.

Somehow, I'm still alive. And life is killing me more each day.

Every moment I get more desperate for relief, for a release. I sink deeper into myself, afraid to speak my mind. I am the strong one. I hold on and keep everyone around me happy. I try every day to take my time alone to be sad, to sob and scream inside and push back the wave of pain I wake up to.

I find myself homeless, again. I was living out of my car, (finally, MY FIRST CAR!!!) until it broke down in 3 different ways, transmission, engine block, and emissions computer, if anybody knows what that means...basically all of it died at once 3 hours from home at a weekend camping rave festival and I had to abandon it. One month of owning a vehicle in my life and it just ended, I'm still a bit heartbroken over it. Since then my new boyfriend (Mike) and I have been staying with friends in his hometown (his "stomping ground" he calls it, :D ), about half an hour away from my life-long beloved hometown. Despite the expensive apartments, snobby rich college students, and my over-worried parents, I miss the hell out of it. Everything familiar in my life is gone. My big brothers who watched my ass through the days and nights I spent homeless and retarded on my first months of alcohol and substances...they've moved on. Maybe I never meant that much to anyone at home in the first place. Amy demonstrated how empty Sterling leaves you when she killed herself in June. Amy the curly haired tiny skinny girl who everyone loved and hated for being so pretty and sweet. And she was miserable. Who knew?

Then again...who could see it coming if I decide to kill myself randomly? I can't stop thinking about it. I know I won't do it, I can't leave Mike. He's such a good hearted soul, just doesn't know what he wants out of life most of the time. Sometimes I feel like he doesn't know if he wants me or not. He loves me because I love him. And I do, so fucking much. I see him all the way to his beautiful heart. And it is so. beautiful. But he doesn't see it, and I can see the pain from his past and our current situation clouding his eyes. Blinding him to anything that could be good, blinding him to me. I try to cheer him up, but my heart is so heavy I can only help so much. It makes me feel useless. I've been through these feelings before. I've longed for death and my own destruction out of pure hopelessness and I'm beyond that now...right?

I cry to get rid of pain. I try to expell the depression like a bad disease. I don't want it, I have no desire to lay in it and enjoy giving up like I used to. Suicide attempts are no longer my hobby. I keep a package of razors in my backpack for lines and haven't touched my skin with them once. I'm doing well, I'm getting better....

I'm just tired of looking at lakes as a comfortable dark place to jump into and sleep forever. I'm tired of leaning over balconies and musing over how easy it would be to pick up my feet and fly headlong over the edge. I guess you could say I'm addicted to suicide. And I'm sick of it. I don't want to leave my beautiful soul of a boyfriend behind. I don't think he would survive it.

I just have to hold onto the little things that make life beautiful. Those small things like butterflies, rainbows, sunshine, lone little weed flowers, a kiss from my love, a full moon on a cloudy night. Just hold on...

I'm 130 pounds now. The skinniest I've ever been, and it's because of drugs and the lack of desire to eat out of desperation. I stop eating when I'm broken inside. Yesterday Mike and I got $100 from his dad to keep us fed until we find jobs. Our first meal in three days, and I could only eat half a sandwich.

I can't even decide what I'm striving for anymore. My life is owned by circumstance and pain. I have no more goals, except the everyday goal to be skinny. That seems to be the only game I can win anymore.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Eat when you're hungry?

Hello, its been a long time.
I've recently dipped down to 130 as of this March. I gained a bit since then because of a trip to visit my ex in a small town where my only food was hot dogs and ramen and the only pastime was smoking weed and getting munchies. I am now settled at a toned, slight bone-baring 138. I can feel my spine, ribs, and abs. I can see my hipbones and my chest has gotten perkier. I've lately taken on the habit of eating only when hungry and when food is low calorie and I've taken my diet pills. When I'm not hungry (which is most of the time) I simply don't eat. But I do manage to eat something healthy and take plenty of vitamin supplements daily. It's a very balanced and semi-healthier way of eating for me. And I'm probably the happiest and prettiest I've ever felt right now. I'm newly single, talking to a couple of guys, and enjoying the party life of working for a rave production company. More on that later. :)

That's the update, hopefully will post again soon!



Sunday, January 23, 2011

Where from Here?

Hello, again. Here I am, again. Like a crack addict scouring the alleys for her fix, I'm back to this blog.

Although, I never really left. Not even 3 weeks after my big farewell here, I began another blog, under another name. It's not the first time I've done this, and it's all to avoid my extremely nosy sister, Kate. Not that I really care what she's that I have the deep, frightened feeling that she will tell my parents again. Not that I care what my parents think either, but's out of the goodness of my heart this time. What good does it do my poor, overworked mother to know that her troubled daughter is, well, extra-troubled? And how many more gray hairs on my father's head do we have to turn white with worry?

The only thing that brings me back with some level of confidence, is Kate's sweet little farewell message on her blog. The feeling that she is no longer interested in reading up on girls like me. Girls sick in the mind, torn apart with hatred for their own bodies. I'm happy that she's recovered, I really am. I'm just sick of recovered anorexics and bulimics who preach the value of "healthy eating." It's easy for them to talk. They got skinny, they got what they wanted. And they should know just as well how hard it is to give it all up. Yet as soon as they turn away from the mirror, they seem to forget Ana's pale, papery grin. They seem to bury the memories of just how hard it is to ignore that grin. They act as though it's so very easy, to eat without care, to ignore the scale. "If I did it, you can too." They say, their voices dripping with sticky-sweet sensitivity and caring. "I can help you," they offer. "Just eat healthy and exercise. There's no need for this silly starving behavior anymore."

And they act like they still struggle. "Oh, I know it's hard. It's so hard. I still have trouble eating breakfast some days." They wipe a crocodile tear away and smile. The difference between us and them, is that they still do it. They manage to eat without worrying themselves sick over it. The sad fact of the matter is, we just aren't there yet. And they need to understand that. However, I have yet to see a recovering ana who hasn't pissed me off with her failure to understand and her high-and-mighty "I'm cured!" attitude.

For those who wish to read up on what's been happening the past few months, the alter-ego blog (where I took the name Lilly this time) is here: Perfect, Empty, Thin.

I haven't decided whether I want to continue writing here or there. Either way, shoutout to Nikki (Letters from Ana) who has been with me for the past several years now, as a fellow Ana, confidant, and friend. She was the only one to follow my alternate blog since I took leave from this one.

So where from here? I'm not sure yet. I'll see what sort of reaction this post gets. I'll see how far my 5th or 6th relapse (I've lost count now) plays out. Either way, I want everyone to know I have missed you and I think of you all the time.

Stay strong, think thin.