New Year's Eve

I was thinner last New Year's Eve.
I felt prettier.
I wanna be prettier.
I wish I wasn't planning on eating crap tonight.
I need to start running.
And doing crunches.
And exercising outside of school.
I need to curl or straighten my hair.
I need to put on make up.
I need to actually try to look good this semester.
Next semester starts my "senior" year.
I'm set to graduate early if I don't screw up.
I only get two more semesters.
One Prom.
One last year to lose weight and get where I need to be.
Two more semesters to be "the pretty one".

I still have a really noticeable scar

Remember when I sliced my wrist with a bread knife? The scar has gotten a lot better, or it's better today. Sometimes it's really dark purple and my skin is really white. Part of me thought that maybe it would be better than it is. Then again, I apparently have no concept of time when I look back. Sometimes, I think it happened a month ago, weeks ago, years ago. Sometimes, when I look at the scar the panic comes back, the memory still raw. It doesn't happen as much now. I can remember how it was ripped wide open. It was terrifying, but I haven't felt anything so...freeing since. Yes, I felt panicked and scared, but they were only vague after a while. After a while, they drifted on my peripheral. After a while, I didn't feel anything strongly. Don't worry, I'm not going to do it again. Having that fresh panic hit me, randomly, when I'm writing, getting a drink, hugging my girlfriend, doing normal human actions is no fun.
I haven't lost any weight. I'm so confused. I can't eat much because I feel sickly after.  Physically, I'm feeling. The light-headedness that I missed, vision going black and then coming back... Being chilled worse than everyone else. The way coffee made me feel after not eating for a long time. I don't think I realized how much I really missed this. All of it. Anyway, I haven't lost weight. I stand on the scale, shift my weight to see if that'll lower it. It doesn't change. 165. Shift, shift, shift. 165. don't eat for hours. 165. Try to ignore it all. Go to bed. Get online. Use the excuse that I don't feel well to not eat. Have too much coffee. Suddenly too bubbley. Crash. Weigh. 165. Want to scream. Listen to music. Try to write about something other than suicide (no, I'm not suicidal.). Pace room. Worry that J.P.'s not gonna come back. Run downstairs. Weigh. 165.
Ok, I really don't weigh myself too much. I know it's gonna say the same thing. I know that it's not going to change. Sometimes, after I go to the bathroom, I'll see. It's really always the same. It makes me feel so broken when I almost cry over the unchanging number. I almost threw a fit one day when no one was home. I almost punched the island in our kitchen. I almost screamed. I pulled at my hair.
I have tiny wrists. They're getting bigger, though. I can't easily touch my index finger and thumb together when I wrap them around my wrist. That was my biggest satisfaction when I lost weight. I'm such a blob.
I'm gonna go to bed before I call myself anything worse.

I feel really sick when I eat

I don't know what's wrong with me, but sometimes I eat a little and feel like I'm going to die. Other times I can eat a lot, but then I still feel like I'm going to die. I don't know if it's physical or psychological. Or both.
Mom says it's the start of an ulcer.
I'm scared to weigh myself and ruin my Christmas.
OH! Christmas.
It's been great so far. Didn't get out of bed until nine thirty, which is late on Christmas in my house. Usually everyone gets up around...five or seven. Yeah, in the morning.
My mom made me feel like a rich brat. She got me a TV, a wii, and four phone cases. The TV is only a twenty-four inch and the wii is used and the cases are my favorite part of that. She also got me PJ...bottoms? Only. And a PillowPet and make up and a bodywash/lotion/ect. pack and I unintentionally got an XBox 360. My older brother A got one from his dad, so I got his old one. It works great, but sometimes you have to take a knife to the little drawer thing where the disk goes because it sticks. To make me feel better, though, when I talk to her about it, Mom said she didn't spend more than 200 on me. Which for what I got, I was really shocked! She also got my this ring that looks like a lily and has a pearl? in it.
I really wasn't expecting to get much. Oh, and the one thing I actually asked for I'm getting the beginning of January.
And I got to see J.P. today. It felt really nice. Totally different from when I see her everyday. We talked about her plans for today (I don't really have any), we hugged, said that we love each other (only once), talked a lot. I love that chicka.
I hope you all have a great day! I hope you have a great Christmas. If you don't celebrate Christmas, I hope you have a great other holiday. And if you don't celebrate anything, I just hope today is extra special.

I thought I looked good, until I weighed myself.

So, I got up, did nothing until J.P. went to work, and then I came home, took a shower, and bothered doing my make up. I haven't eaten all day. I thought I would at least weigh less than I did yesterday. Nope. Two pounds more!
I can't believe I actually bothered doing my makeup. I never do like my whole face. I throw on some eyeliner, maybe some foundation and powder, and worry completely about my hair. Not today! Oh no! I did that green concealer stuff that's supposed to make your acne less noticeable, foundation, lipgloss, powder, eyeliner, mascara, and layered two colors of eyeshadow (black and a dark brown. It's a really pretty color, but I was going to do purple and black, but couldn't find my black.). It all seems completely pointless because I haven't  done anything with my hair, and am wearing a hoodie and ripped jeans. So I think I'm gonna go straighten, tease, and hairspray my hair. I don't have anything better to wear.
Maybe then I'll actually look good when J.P. gets off work at two??
Oh...and coffee. I'm gonna go have some of that shit. Excuse my language, it just seemed to fit better than "crap"

It's almost Christmas.

So, I'm fat, but I'm having almost all the symptoms that I had at my lowest weight. My vision doesn't go black and I'm not as crabby, but I'm freezing, lightheaded, can't think, get tired really easy, only want to sleep. I'm still around 165. I feel hungry (but I eat all the time).

Ok, so NERD MOMENT. I read the chapter of Naruto online(Spoiler ALERT) today where Neji dies. I would've cried if J.P. hadn't basically yelled at me to help her finish wrapping gifts. That was such a depressing death! It was really good, but it was so sad. Like, why couldn't it have been someone less cool?  And he was like "Because I've been called a genius" and it's like...I dunno, I died.

So, I told J.P. that it's less than six months until ASTL, so I'm starting a diet. I wanna look absolutely dashing in my Jolteon cosplay. I don't know how I'll ever be thin enough to think that I look great.

So,I see that I have new followers. Yes, I know you're there. I don't know who you are, sorry. If you comment, I'll love on you a whole bunch. Yes, yes I will. I will love you more than my penguin mugs that I drink loads of coffee from. That's a lot of love.

So...I don't know why this hit so hard, but today my older brother was wondering what's going to make him lose weight in the coming year. It was...triggering? I think. I'm not sure. I don't feel like I did when I was going through my clothes (depressed). I felt.. empowered? maybe? to not eat. It was weird. Not really a sensation I've had for a while. Oh! Yesterday I went into my second hysterical fit ever. J.P. eventually had to hold me to her to keep me from hurting either of us on accident. I don't even know why I reacted that way. Like, we had been fighting and I was acting like I had given up on everything (I was feeling very apathetic about life in general) and suddenly, I was bawling and she told me to lay down and calm down and trying to gently push me down onto my bed and I started out just pushing her away and then I started thrashing about, unable to breath through my nose because it was so full of snot (ewww). Finally, I just laid down and after she went to the bathroom and turned off the lights, I clung to her. All day today, I've been scared that she'd leave and just not come back (even though we were at her house). I don't know what was wrong. I swear, I wasn't using any kind of drug.

Finals.

They're in a few days. I should be scared, nervous, something. I shouldn't be standing on the scale, seeing close to 170, and thinking I shouldn't eat. I should be worried about passing pre-calculus. Since I know that, why can't I think of that? Why can I only think of how I just don't want to eat ever again and how if I tell J.P. that she'll blame herself and think she's the only reason I don't (and she is). But instead of working out, I'm sitting here, on the computer, complaining about how fat I am.
Maybe I should actually go work out.
Oh, I'm set to graduate in a year. A year from now. Like, I only have to go the first semester of my senor year.
But I also have to order my gown next year. J.P. told me that I have to be the size I want to be by then... I wanted to be ninety-nine pounds before I graduated. It's not going to happen. I also wanted to be one fourteen, but that's not going to happen either. She won't let it. I'll get thinner and happier and she'll remind me to eat. She'll tell me how sick I am. She tell me that getting better is so much better. What if I don't want to be better? What if I know I'll be happy when I step on the scale and see the weight I want? What if I just don't want to be better?
Why try so hard to force me?

I used to do it to feel free.

When I stepped on the scale, the numbers went lower and lower.
It's the most freeing thing.
It's also the most capturing.
When I was so set on not eating, I didn't care what people said.
The hatred was in my head.
It was all me.
...except with my parents.
Everything they said somehow affected me.
Other than that, though, everything was me.
Now, I have this meddling girlfriend who acts like she's cool with me not eating, but talks about the future and how great it's going to be.
She doesn't seem to get that just because I don't starve or cut nearly as much anymore doesn't mean those thoughts just went away.
I want a future.
I also want to not eat.
Or to eat very little, which I used to be great at.
Now I'm better at not eating until I get to lunch at school.
It feels mandatory to eat.
One day, I'm going to freak out.
One day, I'll get tired of seeing the numbers go down and then back up.
One day, I'll end up looking at J.P. and going "Do you not get it?!"
It's a fight.

I just wanna be skinny.

I don't mind cutter jokes, to be honest.

So long as they're not directed at someone.
It's like, "You know? I'm cool with you being able to joke about that. It means you haven't seen what that can do to a person."
Good for them
Someone in my Spanish 1 class told one of his friends that something mean that his friend did was the reason he cuts.
He was kidding (I'm pretty sure).
Like everyone gets upset when people joke about cutting and stuff because it's supposed to be serious (and it is, don't get me wrong), but why can't anyone just calm down and enjoy the fact that if they can joke about it that means that they haven't gone through it?
Like I can't joke about cutting or disordered eating.
It physically hurts to even try.
Some of us use it to cover up the fact that we do, which is cool by me too. If you're not ready to get better, you're not going to get better anyway.
Anyway, *steps off soap box* that's my rant.

I asked my mommy for snakebites.
It was scary. I thought she was going to yell at me.
She said no when I asked again and then I explained that I don't have to have rings (my older brother A. has a ring in his) that I could have studs.
She then said to talk to her about it after the first of the year.
So it if the world doesn't end before then, I may get my lip pierced.

So, I've started listening to Pierce the Veil again.
They're pretty boss.
I have homework I should be doing, but I don't want to.
Also, I know I haven't posted in DaydreamingofHunger  in a while, but I'm going to make it over and drop a whole bunch of thinspo into it sometime tonight.
Shamelessly promotion.
I don't really know how I'm going to change it, but I am.
It'll look different.
And hopefully prettier.
Not that I hate it.
It looks pretty beast right now.
It's just not my thing anymore.
Is everyone ok with this blog? Since it's my main one I try to make it easy to read and very lovely.

I used to hope for the impossible

I used to want to be a model.
I used to have more belief that I could be an author.
I used to believe that I could be happy and thin.
I used to think that I would never have to work to get good grades.
I used to think I would be rich one day, somehow.
I used to think I wanted children because they're such a new addition to life.
I used to believe that I wanted to grow up.
I never once thought that even if I gained the weight back I'd be unhappy and have thoughts of being not pretty because I'm not thin.
I never once believed that my personality would be affected by not eating.
I never thought that once I started eating again, the damage wouldn't go away.
I never believed that I would ever consider purging. And then I tried to at least twice.
I never thought I'd scare the person I love by freaking out over eating.
I never thought that I'd not notice gaining weight.
I never thought that I would think of weight loss as freedom.

All of these have changed.
I found out I'm too fat/short to model.
I wonder continuously if I'll ever bother to actually stick with something and finish it and get it published.
I know now that with how my mind works, I want something and I want it ASAP which makes losing weight the "right" way too hard. So I can't be thin and happy.
I'm almost failing one of my classes just because I don't want to put out the effort.
I actually wish I could quit growing up or even go back to when I was younger. I'm not quite ready to face the real world yet.
Everyday, I think about how fat I let myself get and how great it was to be 128 and to be able to say that I was 128.
I don't want kids. I'm scared that they'll get the same mentality that I have.
J.P. gets to deal with me freaking out almost everyday about whether or not to eat. My breathing gets really quick, tears fill my eyes.
I used to see losing weight as freedom. Freedom from my dad calling me fat, freedom from all the perverted eyes staring and watching, freedom from being me because I always think of myself being fat.

I was going to go back and reread parts of my blog. I don't know if I could handle it, knowing that I'm only fifteen, fourteen, and even thirteen in some of the posts. Knowing that I was so young, I should have been focusing on happier things. Not when I was going to not eat, not when I was going to see my therapist, not when I was fasting. I don't understand how all this happened, though. I've been fascinated with eating disorders since grade school, but always believed I would never get one. I've been called fat since I was eight-ish, but always thought that I had enough support from friends to keep me from feeling fat. I never thought I would be one of those girls who starved and cut. I never thought that it would hurt so much, either.

I have a tumblr!

It's actually my favorite place for thinspo.
You can find me here.
It's not just thinspo or weightloss.
It's actually a lot of cute animal pictures and things that I find funny/like...speak to me.
And others things that I like.

I read through some of my older posts.
From over two years ago.
Ow. They tore open new wounds.
I couldn't read some of them.
I didn't really need to.
I've never forgot all of the posts I can't read.
I've never forgot the conversation where one of my best friends told me how worthless I am.
I've never forgot that said person was also my girlfriend's ex.
I'm scared to reread them. To make them real again.

I'm gonna go waggle my booty on to the stationary bike for the next hour.
Toodles.

Everyone says it'll get better

But it's never gotten better for me.

Sure, there's periods where I'm alright.

I can pretend that everything's great.

But then it all breaks.
Everything in my head crashes down.
Something in my head breaks.
The thoughts flood back.
Only this time, I don't have anyone but J.P. to tell me that it'll be better.
She tells me I need help.
Do I want it?

Or do I want to go back to being that girl who only sometimes realizes that she's thin?
Do I want to go back to having lost weight, but not seeing it?
Do I really want that?

My foot says fat in all caps.
It's all I could manage to carve into it the other day.
J.P. just reminded me that I wanted to have kids when I was older.
I don't want kids.
I don't want to adopt or birth kids.
I have bad mental genes.
I have a bad way of seeing the world.
I don't want to pass along either.

I'm gonna go see her.
When I get done with this word on my foot.

I feel like all I talk about is me cutting, wanting to cut, wanting to not eat, having that whole hate myself because I did eat, and still eating.

And then I'm like "I should post something inspiring."
Then I think about it.
Nope, not happening today.
Like all I feel like I do with my life is cut.
Or think about cutting.
There's more than that, really.
I don't honestly cut very often anymore (it's becoming more frequent).
I took the Practice ACT.
I've made up like nine thousand tests from when I was gone.
I nearly cried when I saw a picture of me from last Halloween.
I was so freakin gorgeous.
J.P. said that it's not at my lowest weight, that I had gained some and didn't look as sickly.
Can I please be skinny?
And in response to that everyone is like "Fucking work for it."

I'm realizing that I need to quit letting J.P. rule my life.
I need to quit eating so much just because I'm scared to death that she'll got back to starving/purging.
I'm kind of scared that part my fear is a fear that she'll be skinnier than me rather than me being scared that she'll get really sick.

Apparently I don't realize that I'm as used to pain as I once was.
I have these thoughts of carving words into my various body parts.
A few months ago, even, this would be easy.
Then I go to actually do it.
My hands shake.
It hurts and I have to stop.
The cuts are shallow.
It's not like it used to be.
Only the release and blood is.
Everything is like when I started except the fact that my body is covered in scars.
And I'm not thirteen.
And I'm using razors instead of a chunk of glass.

Alright, I've decided that I'm gonna be skinny.
I've also decided (a while ago) that I hate my lexapro.
I've ALSO decided to tear up my foot before I go get J.P.
I also think I have a new follower?
HI!!! :D

Alright, I'm gonna go do that now.

At home, sick.

Haven't bothered to get up and do anything other than brush my hair and put on make up.
Not that I'm going anywhere.
OH and I got a bottle of water.
J.P. said we were gonna eat breakfast so that I can get all better, but I don't know if I want to.
I probably should.

J.P. and I are talking about whether or not I should get my lip pierced.
She doesn't want me to.
She hates them.
I think they'd be adorable.
I mean, once I got thinner and prettier.
It's hard to convince her (especially since I'm not trying very hard).

lost about seven pounds since the third

I've been sick most of the time.
I've only risked working out twice since Friday.
I'm too worried it's gonna make me faint.
Or sicker.
I really am tired of being sick.
The whole getting nauseous when I eat is nice.
The rest of it isn't.
I also apparently lost two inches since the last time I was measured??
Went from 5'6" to 5'4"?
...what?

I think they're just wrong.
I think I'm still 5'6".
I think that just makes me feel better about weighing so much.

One sixty three.
If I'm 5'6", that's a BMI of 26.3.
If I'm 5'4" that's a BMI of 28.0.
I'd prefer 5'6"... Although I'm probably five four.

Making me a whale.
Not even a cute whale.
Just a sick, nasty, huge whale.

I like this chick's eyes.

J.P. says she's not eating anymore.

So I said I'm not either.

She's better at this than I am, though.

I think with competition like that, though.

Maybe I'll be able to...

I should be working on finishing J.P.'s Christmas present.

She asked me to write her a story for Christmas.

I'm freaking out because I'm nowhere near done and Christmas is so close and who even knows we'll be together for then.

I hope we are.

I hope I get to see her face as she reads the story.

I hope it's good enough to be a Christmas present.

I hope it's the best she gets this year.

Oh I haven't mentioned that I don't get to go to school until my stomach pains subside.

Don't know how I'll be able to tell if I'm not eating.

I'll just keep drinking loads of water.

Smiling and pretending I'm alright as the pounds fall off, I guess.

Go to school eventually.

I'll get snake bites when I get down to 130 again.

If I can get my mom's permission.

If she gets to be sick, I get to be free.

When I get skinny, I'm gonna buy another pair of those Miley Cyrus jeans I used to have and love.

The ones that were ripped all up the front.

The skinny jeans.

I don't know what ever happened to them, but I loved them.

Especially after I got thinner.

They didn't really look good on me.

Ever.

One moment they were too tight, the next too loose.

Alright, I'm gonna go work on that story.

Toodles, lovelies.

cutting... (May be VERY triggering)

I feel perfectly and completely..not good enough.
J.P.'s friend....J broke up with his fiance recently.
Now he's hitting on her and trying to guilt her into sleeping with her.
He's sending her flirty texts while I'm standing right next to her while we talk to him at work.
She says that he's her only friend so she won't quit talking to him.
I'm like crazy sick.
I haven't gone to school since Friday when I was sent home after the blood drive we had.
So I'm sitting here with a pile of change because she's telling me that J flirting with her is EXACTLY like Anna treating her like crap.
And my blade isn't freaking sharp enough!
I'm scared she'll sleep with him.
Terrified, actually.
It makes me want to starve.
It makes me want to cut.
Anything but actually curling up into a ball and crying like I want to.
Anything to make me anything but weak like this.
She doesn't seem to understand how badly this hurts.
Sitting by and watching as he flirts with her, pretending I don't want to run away because I'm more than scared that he'll steal her.
It's so freaking hard to tear apart a disposable razor to get the individual blades.
They make me think of the knives downstairs and how much easier it would be to use them.
But these are safe to me.
Familiar.
Don't worry, I'll throw some hydrogen peroxide on them.
Crap, I cut my finger without even realizing it.
Yes, I have bandages all lined up.
Yes, I'm going down this path again.
I'm telling her it's fine to talk to him because it's so triggering and I really don't like feeling guilty from telling her she can't.
Now I've made her choose twice.
With J.R. and with J.
And I'll always have this fear that one day she'll realize they're both 20 times better than I am.
I get what I want and it's still a problem...
Great.

So, After I typed this all up, but before I found enough pictures to be satisfied posting, my computer died.
So rather than making a new post, I'm just gonna make this one super long.
I took a nap which only made me feel groggy.
Then I exercised a little. Which made me feel groggy.
Then I made myself some coffee (do you know how hard it is to make coffee without a coffee maker and not get coffee beans in the actual drink??). And guess what? Made me groggy.
So, I'm a groggy mess.
Found out I fail at jump roping. Which I kind of already knew.
It was fun. Until I tried jumping and the rope ended up between my toes.
J.P. and I have been saying odd things to each other because we're both not feeling too well which is messing with our brains.
So, I went out to eat yesterday for my brothers' (no, that's not a typo. My youngest brother and one of my older brothers share a birthday.) birthday.
It was a buffet.
I'm guessing I've been unknowingly starving while I've been sick.
Got horrid stomach pains that lasted until...well, I still have stomach pains they're just not as bad.
So I stayed home from school.
Again.
I haven't gone at all this week.
I've just felt sickly.
I wonder if I've lost weight.
All I've really been doing is sleeping.

You know what kind of bothers me?
When the thinspo sites I go to have a whole bunch of super seductive pictures and pictures of naked chicks.
I don't know why it bothers me.
Cause if the person in the picture is in their underwear, it doesn't bother me.
I guess I see the clothing as part of the beauty of it?

Maybe that's just me.

So, about my coffee.
I'm really proud of myself.
Being able to make it without a coffee maker makes me feel like I can have any kind of coffee I want whenever I want.
Which isn't true.
Because I still a microwave.
Then I got bored of just normal coffee. Because I had made mine too strong.
So I added the LAST lemon tea tea bag to my coffee grounds.
It was great.
I was shocked!
It was like a zing of lemon mixed in with the bitterness of the coffee.
I was like "WHY DON'T THEY ACTUALLY MAKE THIS!?"
Then I wanted peppermint coffee....but we don't have peppermint tea and I have zero money.

So, I really want a tattoo, but apparently it's illegal to give a minor one.
I'm only sixteen, so I fall into that age group.
I just want something simple.
I really want a bow on my wrist, but I know that would hurt like crazy.
And, even though I cut, I'm a wuss when it comes to pain.
Which makes zero sense to me.
I also wanna get my lip pierced, snake bites.
But J.P. doesn't like the thought of it.
And I don't want her to leave.
And I don't want to get them and then not like them.
I think that scares me the most.
The thought that I'll get them and then hate the look of them.