[36] I'll Be Damned

     I made that other blog

to get away from the darkness of this one.

Yea, I haven't even posted on here in forever

and I'm still purging.  I purge over absolutely nothing.

I don't know if I'm happy, miserable, depressed, content.

It's up and down all the time.

But I can control this.

I firmly believe that I don't have a mental problem,

I just have my limits, and they are being tested

and that is what is making me so crazed.

But I don't know my limits.

I don't know what's wrong.

Cut again, and I missed it.

Cutting.  Puking. Crying.

I am glorious.

I need love.  Love for myself.

Love for another.

There is no love in this house,

and it is a house 

because I'll be damned 

if I ever call it a home.

Daddy, I miss you so much.

So much just starting to think of it hurts.

So much that I just want this pain to go away.

So much it leaves me empty.

I feel lonely, maybe because I know people really do die.

People you never expect to,

no matter what the circumstances.

Please, someone out there.

Find Me.

[18] Unlovable

He stayed because

he didn't want to see me cry.

He stayed because he cares about me.

But he doesn't love me.

He doesn't feel the same anymore.

He told me how he felt,

so I returned the favor :

"I feel like a worthless piece of shit."

"Why?"

"I'm nothing to no one.

No one loves me.

I don't even love me."

That's emo,

but it true.

And the 'whole' me

says I'm fucking pathetic.

The 'real' me

says to grow the fuck up.

No one in this world

means anything

to anyone

except

themselves.

But the 'Ana' me,

the girl trying to disappear

won't hear it.

Hearing that would derail everything.

Making sense would mean moving on.

Living.

I'm going to sit and rot for a while.

Why?

Why now?

Because with this one last straw,

my now skeletal back

has broken.

Because life has whittled me

down to this pathetic piece of shit.

And because despite me knowing all this,

despite me knowing that only you

can truly destroy yourself, 

or bring yourself down,

I just don't care anymore.

My life is going on mute 

for now.

And I don't know if I'll

ever want to hear the calamity again.

Oh, and these veins

will scream their sorrow tonight.

[12] MOVE!

I hate my mother.

You all say I can't

because she's my mother.

You're right.

A part of me loves her as my mother,

but that's because a part of me is my mother.

But I hate her as a person.

I hate everything about her.

I hate what she's put me through,

the choices she's made,

everything.

I got molested when I was 11,

she didn't do a damn thing about it.

Why?

Because I, 

the 11 year old, 

scared to death molestee

asked her not to.

Because she didn't want to start trouble

with a family friend.

Yea, an old bastard with a wife

and a son who was like my brother.

The guy was like a fucking father figure to me.

And nothing was ever done about.

Haunted me for years.

Ate away at every part of me 

until there was only fear and hate left.

And when she found out I was bulimic.

She told me to cut the crap,

that I was wasting her money.

That I disgusted her.

[Heard that on more than one occasion.]

When she saw my cuts,

"I don't want to see that,"

in her ever so popular 

tone of disgust.

Translation : Cover them up,

I'm not going to help you.

And a million other things I hate about her.

Now, after a year of the same situation

going on between me an Wally,

she keeps trying to shove her nose into everything.

She doesn't give a fuck if I get hurt,

she wants to have control over me

and tell me he can't spend the night anymore.

No worries guys,

I'm not getting hurt.

We're company for one another

because that's all we've ever known.

It may hurt in the end,

but I'll live.

So I need to find that number,

check out those apartments,

and drag Kelsie's ass there

so we can rent it

and I can get the fuck out of here,

because my god,

the thoughts I have of fighting my mother

fist-to-face

are almost so delightful

that I can taste them.

But again, no worries,

I won't.

She's not worth going to prison over.

Rant Over

I purged four times yesterday.

I'm not going to beat myself up over it anymore.

Obviously that doesn't work.

I'm still not going over 600 calories a day,

so at least that is good.

But  swear I can feel my metabolism STOP

when I purge.

But I've been purging everything up,

waiting until I can't taste whatever it was I ate.

And I still need a new scale...

I'm losing my mind not knowing what I weigh!

Maybe that's where I lost my motivation...

I lost my numbers...

I wasn't even counting yesterday when I binged!

Counting is the strongest defense I have 

to control myself.

I need to concentrate on that more.

I cannot wait to move out!

[4] They Cut-Cut-Cut-Cut-Cut-Cut-Cut You Up

My beautiful lines are fading.
They're no longer the vibrant red
of new incisions.

The holes I poked in my wrist
still make me smile.
They're my secret,
and I can see them all day long.
I can blame it on those playful adoption kittens.
They just don't know how to watch those claws/teeth!
Adorable, right?

Definitely a lot cuter than
that blade I broke out of a disposable razor.

I can never stop thinking about wanting to make more.
Wanting more reinforcements and reminders
to stay strong and
resist
those
calories!

I need water.
It's so cold out again.
Florida weather,
I will welcome you back
with open arms
and without complaint!

[2] All Mine

Fucking Awesome.
Now I think my scale is off.
It tells me I am less
than the scales at the gym.

I don't want to admit it though.
It makes me feel like all I worked for
is right back in me.

According to my scale,
I weighed 110.2 this morning.
According to their scale,
I weighed 114.something this afternoon.
That means I was even fatter
when I started.

That means I should work even harder.

I let Kelsie try to stuff me today.
I let her feed me an apple
I didn't mind that
But I didn't eat the wheat-bran waffle.
I broke it into pieces
so it looked like I ate some
and then I threw all the pieces out
away
from
me.

I feel strong and in control
because that's what Ana is.
I know that.
I don't believe it's wrong.
They say it's wrong,
but it protects me.
I want to feel protected.
Ana protect me.

Mia hurt me.
Mia never helped.
Mia let me stay fat
when all I wanted to do
was lose more.
Was purge more.
But purging never helped.

I could purge all day
but it never helped!

I don't ever want to be Mia's friend ever again.

I joined the gym today too.
I do not want to just be skin and bones.
I want the fat on my thighs and butt to go away.

Kelsie worked me too the core
and I did not give up.

She wanted smoothies.
She wanted me to drink 340 calories.

Was she insane?
I picked the one with only 180.
I drank it so slow,
but had no water to fill me up between sips.
I chewed on the seeds from the raspberries and strawberries.
That left me at
Coffee + Cream & Sugar = 30
3 Egg Whites = 48
1/4 Scooped Whole Wheat English Muffin = 20
1/4 Serving of Peanut Butter = 47.5
1 Small Apple = 80
That fucking Smoothie = 180
That fucking 1/4 Kashi Pizza = 217.5

Total Today = 623

That's around my general intake
but it feels like WAY TOO MUCH.

Looking back, it sounds horrible,
you know it does.

I don't even want to talk about Wally.
He's made me so angry today.
He's made me want to punch walls
or more holes in my skin.

The cuts on my hip are so lovely.
So long.
So thin.
So red.
They're my secret, shh.

Every time I see them I smile.
The little cuts in my wrist that no one notices too.
They're my secret.
All mine.

[1] Firstie

I haven't got anything much to write about now,
except I can't sleep.
WARNING!
Unstable Girl, Beware!

I had 4 egg whites [64] for breakfast,
didn't even bother with the half of a
scooped whole wheat English muffin [50]
or the slight smear of light cream cheese [20].
Lunch was half a veggie delight sub,
no cheese [230],
snack plain oatmeal [100]
dinner, other half of sub [230].
Might have tossed that up during a random
and seriously unexpected/unwanted binge&purge...
I really want to stop that.
No Boerhaave's syndrome for me.
Hell no.
Total = Approx. 624 calories
Not bad.
Barely did ANY exercise today though.
60 squats, as opposed to my normal 100+ throughout the day.
No lunges. No crunches.
I think I'm looking better though.
Still, no swim suit material here.


I poke holes in me,
I wonder if the sun will shine through.
Maybe shine between the angry red lines,
or around the little polka-dots.


I was bad,
then I was better.
I'm not worse now,
but I'm not better anymore either.


I wonder what I will be like in the future,
because I know I won't be like this forever.
I know my thoughts can't keep me awake forever.
Anxiety... What a bitch.