Thursday, February 23, 2012

I can't do anything right it seems.

I eat.
And Eat.
And eat.
I don't exercise enough to get rid of the weight.
So I get fatter.
Tomorrow breakfast will be one caffiene pill (200 mg) and lots of water.
Then weightlifting.
Maybe water with protien Special K stuff in it for lunch (30 calories).
Who needs dinner?
Mom brought home a whole bunchh of clothes I can't wear because I'm too fat.
So I need to lose this weight.
Because most of the clothes I own are for someone twenty pounds lighter than I am.
How did I do it before?
I don't even know.
The picture above *points to picture at the start of post* give me an idea. I think I'll have a jar.
For every pound I lose, I put in some change.
That becomes the money I can use.
When I get enough, I'll go on a shopping spree.
I want people to look at me and say how beautiful I've gotten.
I want people to talk.
I want the people who knew me this year (we'll call it my fat year of high school) to look back and go "Wow! You're really thin now! You were so fat once."
I want to be thin.
I miss cutting.
I know, it's bad for me, but I miss it.
I miss looking down at all the lines racing up and down my arms.
The pain of getting dressed and undressed not just being mental, but also physical.
Did I lose more weight when I was cutting?
I think I did.
I think I strived more to be pretty because of the scars lining my body.
But I talked so much about wanting to quit.
About wanting to be better than it.
I like it though...
I miss it.

Monday, February 20, 2012

When I cut, I'm looking for blood.

Don't remind me how hard I've tried to not cut for this long.
Don't give me that ashamed look.
I already know that the neon bandages covering it all up doesn't make it any better.
Yes, I know my girlfriend will be very upset that in the one day she has left me by myself I have cut.
None of them are deep, if that makes it any better.
There's not as many of them.
Three bandages on one arm, two on the other and all the scariest looking ones are covered.
All of this, I have misses it.
Tonight, I cut.
Because I miss my dogs, because I miss being thin, because I want my space, because I miss those times when my mom didn't try to force herself on me because she knew when I needed space, because I want to cry, but don't think I have that strength.
Because I'm 154.8 or something fattening like that.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Sorry I've been gone so long.

I don't get on here when J.P. is around.
Also, I had computer troubles and couldn't use mine for a few days.
Okay, for those of you who don't know (sorry for those of you who do) Pandora has workout stations.
You click on "New Station" and search the genres and, since it's alphabetical, Workout is near the bottom.
There's a lot of different choices.
Rap, hip hop, alternative, 80's, country, electronic, stuff for doing yoga to.
Since I had a dance last night, I'm listening to rap and the first thing it gave me was Lose Yourself by Eminem.
Okay, my dance...
Well, I was really nervous.
I had bought my dress for Homecoming orginally...
I was (barely) in my 120's then.
I'm 152.
It was tight around my butt and stomach.
Still, I danced.
It was fun.
J.P. and I slow danced.
We left early.
Before the dance, though, we got into a huge fight.
I took two caffiene pills.
You're only supposed to only take one at a time and wait at least four hours between each one.
I'm ok, but I doubt I'll do it again.
They leave me twitchy and jumpy and every inch of me tries to tremble.
But I managed to sleep last night.
Let's get to the bad.
The way my weight went up.
I was 155.
You know what I miss of being skinny?
Fitting into 3's and looking good.
And also fitting into up to a seven and just looking thinner.
I can't do that now that I'm 152.
Three's don't button or zip.
Five's are tight.
Seven's and nine's fit better than they have in forever.
Ahh, but I can fix it.
Last year around this time I was 135, on my way down to my lowest weight 128.
I can be that again. I know I can.
I just need to quit telling myself that I have to eat when J.P.'s around.
I need to be me.
Do what I want.
Dye my hair (I already do that, haha).
Tease my hair (she gets upset when I do).
Wear baggy jeans.
Wear baggy sweatshirts.
Work my ab muscles.
Alright, time to do sit ups and dance like I'm an idiot.
Working my abcicles today. :D
Maybe I'll go for a run.
I feel like being gross and sweaty.
I hope I drop the pounds too because over half the time my body just makes me want to curl up and cry. I don't like it very much. Although, I can find things with it I love. Like how my elbows and knees look really boney compared to the rest of my arm/leg. It's okay that you haven't commented as often!
P.S. I think I'm gonna use deo before I do any exercise. *crawls off bed to put deo on*