And The World Kept Spining

Maybe I’ll just go burn my fuckin’ skin again. Doesn’t that sound like fun? I think it does. It kinda helps get it all out, ya know? Sharp, sudden pain. Nothing like the feeling.

Get some bad news and all of a sudden you just have no desire to eat anymore. Nothing is what you thought it was. A part of your childhood has just been destroyed. Six years of it and all your parents can say is “Face the reality”. Thanks parents, you are oh so helpful. Oh and telling me to breathe the emotion in and then back out doesn’t help me one fuckin’ bunch. You guys don’t understand what exactly I’m going through and you know, even when I tell you, I don’t know how to handle emotion.

Being not able to talk to them, guess who I fuckin’ called? That’s right the Major Ex. The one who I could just talk to. Jake didn’t answer his phone. Not once at all. But Major Ex did. Now why the hell was that?

Major Ex still cares too much. He listened to me fuckin’ cry to him. I don’t cry. I hate it, and I did it in front of the one person I never wanted to see/hear me cry.

I hate life right now.

You guys are all so sweet and adorable people. I love reading your posts and seeing the pictures that helps to express what’s going on inside your head. I know I do a lot of text posts but that’s because words describe better what I think than pictures ever could. Mostly the reason when I post pictures there’s usually a sentence or two that follows it.

But anyway, just remember that each of you have much to live for and when there are tough times there will always be someone who is willing to listen and if not in real life then right here on Tumblr. It’s always nice to see the support that others give to people that struggle. Anon hate is stupid and you should never listen to them. Disrespectful turds is what they are. But you are so much more than their words. You are not a coward because you post your thoughts with your blog title upfront. Anon’s are the cowards because they don’t want others to see their hateful being.

Really, Anon’s are just jealous of your awesome personalities and they are soulless beings who need to bring someone down because you’re posting their thoughts they don’t want to think. So fuck them and have a wonderful day/night everybody. Because no matter who you are, I love everybody’s blog :)

I’ve had several wonderful people who say the sweetest things when I’m the most down in the dumps and I thank you all for that. I’m really thankful for everybody on Tumblr in the eating disorder community. You’re all very strong, even when you don’t feel it. <3

Goodnight world and dear sweet followers.

This drunken-stoned ass should probably get some shut eye since it’s four am here. Stupid insomnia. The plan is no food tomorrow, not matter what I’ve gotta do to make sure that happens.

Loves ya!

(Source: lessthanperfect21)

I need a knife, a blade, a thumbtack.

I need something to tear into my flesh.

I need to feel something other than this.

I can’t talk these emotions and these thoughts.

I can’t handle these words swirling about my head.

I need some other pain to distract my from my hunger.

I need some other pain to make the voice stop talking.

I just need to feel something that is tangible and returned.

I just need this more than anything I can thing of at this moment.

I need a cut on my stomach, that reaches from hip to opposite rib.

I need your knife so if you could just kindly hand it over I promise to be careful.

[I write stories. This is a recent one, but it’s the truth. I can’t help but write these things when I think of Jake. Fuck, I should really do something about this].

“Before him, I was always able to separate emotion from action. I could have sex and then walk away without a single emotional scratch. No connection. Even if it was more than one night, my emotions would not exist. But since he came along, all I’ve got now are meaningful moments where emotion is trapped inside each action. Every little touch sends shivers through me and makes me want him without fail. “

Sometimes you just beg in your mind for someone to be just like you. To fear food the same way you do. To hate their bodies the same way you do. To think just like you do. You want it so bad you start looking for things. The way they talk about food. The way they address their hunger. The way they offer to make you food too.

It’s like you just hope and pray that maybe, just maybe, they are like you too, and that you aren’t so alone in this. That they hear the voices that you do. That they cry over the same things you do. That they fear the same that you do. That they hear the same things you do. That understand what others cannot.

(My friend Taylor threw a bag of chips at me and told me that I needed to eat some. That I needed to have some chips. And each time I told him no. Each time I said that I wasn’t hungry. But I hadn’t eaten all day. My stomach was as empty as my wish to find someone, of the opposite sex, just like me.)

Sometimes I just wish that I could find a guy that was just like me in this. But all I can do it write a story about. All I can do is hope that there is a guy out there, who I can tell to eat and be told to eat right back. Someone I can be a hypocrite with. And that’d be the relationship. Hypocritical when the whole time you just love each other and only want whats best.

The rumbling in my stomach is so loud this morning. I’m glad I’m all alone or someone would most likely ask if I’m hungry. Which I am not. What the fuck is hungry?

My stomach is only making noises because it’s upset that it’s empty.

It’s time for a cigarette.

Skipping down a hall way is easy. Just pull one leg up at a time.

Skipping meals will be easier than I thought. Just one excuse at a time.

I feel so fat right now. I ate today at the Family Reunion just to make sure that everybody would get off my back and leave me alone about eating. I hate the watchfulness of everybody. Always asking “Have you eaten yet today?”

I want to shout, just leave me alone! I want to yell at the top of my lungs. I want to scream so loud I break the window.

I can’t seem to get Jake out of my head either. Last time I saw him we had sex in the shower. It was amazing. And I want to see him again. I want to feel his arms around me. I want his nails to into my flesh and his teeth to leave their marks all over. Bruises and scratches and marks and glorious pulling… sorry that’s a little graphic. We’ve had sex before this and it was slow and sensual, it was making love not fucking. 

But right now I’m to fat to even contemplate curling up beside him while he plays video games. Meh, whatever, I’m going to try and see him this week. I think. I hope anyway. So yeah…Just some ramblings from your friendly neighborhood fat chick.

It just…makes me so happy to not eat.

But then I get scared, and eat a small something.

When I eat that small something, though, I’m usually high.

I have to high to be comfortable enough to eat.

But I’m with my parents now.

I can’t get high.

The voice is just so damn loud now.

I want it to go away, but I don’t want to be alone.

All I know that now it is time for me to shrink and shrink.

I won’t be happy until I am nothing but skin and bones and dark circled eyes.

To get my family off my back I ate a lot tonight… okay, not a lot, but I allowed myself more than I should have. I felt so sick afterwards. For once I contemplated throwing up my food, but knew it wasn’t worth the panic attack that would most likely follow.