taking it easy on myself

 i'm tired of blaming myself for every feeling, every failure, every single little tiny even slight chance of an imperfection.  yes i was extremely mad in the post that i wrote an hour ago.  yes, it was irrational and overly bitchy.  but i'm not a horrible person for it.  I'm not going to hell because i thought those things about my boyfriend who i actually love a great deal.  and yes i just pretty much cleaned out my closet in a ridiculous binge that haunts my mind and cramps my stomach BUTTTT i know why now and i feel normal.  PMSing.  normal.  i. am. normal.  women get cranky, women binge, women get irrational and emotional.  especially the week before their period aka NOW for me, aka WHY i have nasty ass skin these last couple of days.  aka...i'm not a mental case.  i'm just a woman.  omigod, i'm crying right now.  holy hell hormones suck ass.  BUT i am woman...poor aleks.

he's driving me nuts today.  no i'm not going to buy you anything you lazy piece of shit, that's it you are officially cut off.  i hope you know that someday, when i ask you to do something for me, you're going to do it.  you owe me asshole.  fuckin jerk.  stop playing with my fat, it bugs me, i'm not normal and you know it so STOP you asshole, you drive me up a wall i want to kill you right now, don't scare me, it's a bad day.  tomorrow you go to court, and my dad will take care of you.  don't take it for granted.  stop being a lazy fuck and do something with your life.  get a job.  pay for your own goddamn food. go to the cafe and actually GET your own goddamn food.  i hated it when you smoked pot and i will be upset if you ever start again. grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr you annoy me sometimes

o happy day

things i'm excited about:

possible job at le jeune chef 

possible RA position

habitat trip

Aleks (summer, now, forever, whatever)

running 5 miles yesterday

figuring out my life (hypoglycemia, fake sugars, etc)

good semester thus far-trying not to charlie brown it

getting along really well w/parents

life!

gaydom

I wanted to write another post tonight, i had planned on it anyways but i should've known better then to plan lol.  Nothing ever happens when i plan it.  I wanted to write and think about "us" (no not me and my crazy mind that i sometimes like to separate from myself as another person entirely aka Ana, aka the crazy one, aka she who eats my soul), but the him and me.  Trouble is, he's sitting catty-cornered from me and thus, tis awkward to write about him when he's well right there.  Bottom line, so i don't forget about what i wanted to write about is that I'm scared yes, relationships are scary, i'm afraid he'll leave, i'm afraid he'll find someone better suited for him than me, i'm afraid he'll get tired of me, i'm afraid we'll break up because it's just not fun anymore, and i know i'll be devestated.  But that's life right?  Things change, people change, some people are there for all the phases in your life (or at least the majority) and others are just passing through.  He's perfect for me ya kno.  He is.  He's calm, loving, cuddly, imaginative, adventurous, musical, doesn't take my crap (one of the best parts about him actually, he knows about my eating shit and instead of letting me wallow about it or feel bad about myself he wants to kick my ass with it, which is kind of exactly what i need though i would never admit that to him or anyone.  Like last night, he made me sing for him for his little song project he's working on.  I hate to sing in front of people.  I'm incredibly self conscious.  I think i can sing well enough sometimes and get all cocky about it just to find out i was flat the whole time or something and get completely crushed-extremist, remember.  I like to blame my self consciousness on my father telling me i was flat and embarrassing me, and i like to wallow in my self consciousness, making a fuss about it.  He doesn't allow it.  "Sing." he'd say. "I'm going flat, ugggh i hate you, i hate singing in front of people!!!"  "If your flat, fix it, tune it up."  "Uggggh!!"  aka he's that kick in the patootie that i need with the soft edge of love behind it.  Dagnabbit, sometimes i catch myself thinking about a potential future with him, you know the whole "i do," house and home, joint incomes, baby in a baby carriage, suburbia wedded life.  Then i run away, metaphorically.  Marriage, gah. Commitment.  Woah, nooo sir.  More chance of being left when you're committed, more to leave.  Hurts worse too.  No sir, don't want to think about it, don't want to jinx it, stop thinking so much.  Bottom line:  Whatever happens between he and i, whether we stay together or break up and go our separate ways, i hope that 10 years from now i can call him up to go on a crazy adventure of skiing in the alps or something ridiculous.  I guess i just don't want to lose him permanently, ever.  I can handle a break up, even a messy one, if we can still be friends after time has passed.  If he's happier with joanna, if Cassandra understands him better than i ever could, if some mystery girl just sparks his heart like i never could.  Ok, it'll hurt, but if it's what's best for him, then ok.  I just hope we can be friends.  I hope.  Because i need him to keep kicking my ass but i guess at that point it doesnt really matter what i need anymore which is why break ups suck so bad.  Gah, why am i thinking about this.  He's sitting right there.  Things are good.  You seriously need to learn to shut up chelle.  Seriously. 

Today is a good day.  

stop thinking

I need a reality check, pronto.  I'm going a little nuts and i'm grumpy and i need to chill.  I didn't go to the gym yesterday.  Why.  Because my legs hurt and because i was tired and just plain ol' didn't want to.  I didn't go to the gym this morning before work because. why.  it was cold and i was sleeping and i worked all day.  you ate 6 rolls.  why.  because i didnt eat anything before i went to work because i ate an extra 1000 calories last night in powerbars and a healthy choice pasta meal at like 11 pm.  Therefore i had to make up for it today.  But it was freezing.  -10 degrees.  I was freezing.  I was hungry.  I wanted to eat.  by 3 pm, freezing, and having had nothing to eat, i was lethargic.  I wouldnt let myself eat the other foods.  too much fat.  mitra make comment about how many rolls i ate.  bugged me.  i should be fat.  came back and ate a powerbar, yogurt, and drank a tea.  feeling lazy.  feeling worthless.  feeling like a fat slob.  tired.  ski tomorrow.  can't do usual ocd routine tomorrow either.  shit.  need my usual. need routine.  need security.  wake up, gym, class or class, gym, or class class class gym.  wheat bread, two slices of turkey (rip off questionably fatty looking parts), lettuce, apple, maybe banana, powerbar.  hour on elliptical, run.  today-nothing.  tomorrow, ski all day.  come back at five. gym will be open.  won't want to go because i'll be tired from skiing.  will feel lazy for not going. nothing counts as exercise except the gym.  normal normal normal, fuck.  not normal.  no normal.  never normal.  fuck. want to cry.  should tell him?  no.  yes.  why.  no point.  you're just being crazy.  there's nothing he can do.  stop being a burden. cry like a baby, yea that's right.  go ahead and cry.  you have a job, you're in school, you ahve amazing friends and an amazing boyfriend who you actually thought of spending the rest of your life with today even though you're not sure that's possible or are too afraid to consider that it might be possible because it's easier to accept failure when you predict it.  yea go ahead and cry. i hate you.

buttmonger

Why is it i always want to run from the exact thing that i've been wanting/ok not really want but know i need when it is presented to me? I know i need help. I know i'm trying to make myself go crazy. I know i could do it on my own but i also know i won't because what's the point? I weigh 118 pounds, the exact weight i was before everything went kerfleuwy in my eating world. That was 9 years ago. I'm not much better off today then i was then. I still go crazy sometimes and want to curl up in corners and pull my hair out. I'm still on the ever present quest for the perfect body because it gives me the attention that i crave. And i still write everything i think, except now it's online instead of in journals. I have grown up a bit and i do feel like i've learned a lot. Maybe too much, or at least i feel entitled to claim that i've learned a lot when really i haven't even begun to grasp half of what i claim to know. Does that make sense? Does anything i ever say make sense? Am i just lying to myself about everything including who i am? Am i ever genuine other than when i cry? Can i deal with the fact that i'm alive a part of this world and have absolutely no control over what will happen to me or anyone i know? o god, that's scary. no control. i hate that. I have to know, i have to be prepared, i just have to. no. LET IT GO chelle, let it go. i know you feel like crying right now, and you're wondering who notices because you're in a public computer lab with popular kids and you want them to think you're cool. why. why do you give a crap what anyone thinks. of course you should care what your friends think of you but that's because they're your friends, You, YOUR friends, aka they know you and accept you and what they think of you coincides (or at least SHOULD coincide) with what you think of yourself so you caring what they think is really just them keeping you true to yourself. maybe. maybe you shouldn't care what anyone thinks, even yourself. especially ana. never care what she thinks, ever, she will keep you in a size 6 jean and she may make you popular but she'll never be you and she'll never give a shit about what you want or who you are, she only cares about what you are. fuck you ana. I'm tired of you. I don't want to hear your annoying contradictory voice every time i try to make a healthy or damn, even unhealthy decision. I weigh 118. I can see most of my bones when i wake up in the morning before i begin eating for the day. I liked myself in the mirror at 125. I was happier at 135. i want to be 115. i need to stop...

ma nom a nah

I could sleep with him last night.  That was exciting.  It was the first time i have been able to sleep sans anxiety or discomfort or the urge to just leave in a while.  Granted i took four over the counter sleeping pills and was dead ass tired this morning BUT it doesn't matter.  I could sleep, and even when i woke up from either his or my own scrooching I could fall back asleep.  Thank god.  Now how to do it without the pills, hrmm...

I've realized all i ever write is depressing crappola on here and for that i'm sorry.  I guess i expend all my happy energy when i'm with friends and have no real vent for my depressed unhappy moments that they all just kind of splurge out here.  Plus i just think too much.  That's my ultimate cryptonite...thinking.  I can never just eat something, i have to think about what i want to eat, if it's really what i want to eat or if it's just there, if i will hate myself after i eat it, if it has too many calories, if it will give me gas, if people will judge me for eating it, etc etc etc  

...half a hour later...

we're friends now, he and i.  I don't know when that happened or what the switchover was but we're friends.  We can hang out and it's not awkward.  it's day three of the semester and things are looking positive.  here's to hoping i dont charlie brown myself into making it miserable.

rawr

I'm going crazy.  I'm at the end of my rope.  I don't know how to be, i don't know where to run, i'm out, i'm through, i'm done.  Nothing comforts me anymore, not the gym, not him, not people, i can't even fight off my own mind.  i just want it to be over, please god i'm so tired. i can't put on this act anymore.  I can't fight myself for the rest of my life.  How are they happy? i don't understand.  I don't think i've known happy, truly happy, contentedness for the majority of my life and i don't remember sanity at all.  i hate my mind.

i wish i could fix him.  i wish i could help him.  i wish i knew what to say to him.  i wish i could be myself with him like i am with the others but i'm so scared to lose him i hold back.  he couldn't possibly love me.  or even if he did, it would be only be for a little while, and that might be worse because i really can't take being left again.  anymore.  ever.  fuck.  

everytime someone walks by the door i can stop myself from crying and get ready to put on the face that says "i'm fine, i just took a shower/went to the gym, that's why my face looks red and blotchy-i couldn't possibly be crying, i'm michelle, i'm crazy but the good kind."  yes, i'm crying, i always cry because i'm michelle, and i'm crazy-not the good kind. uggh fuck my life, i keep hoping for some terminal illness, that maybe then the knowledge of my impending death would give reason to my insanity and take away the stress of "god, i have to keep this up for how long??" and finally free me.  maybe the fact that i routinely shit blood means i have cancer or maybe because my heart (physical) hurts more often now is a sign of serious heart trouble , or maybe the migraines are side effects of a brain tumor- i'm not trying to downplay the seriousness of any of these, really honestly, i know how horrible they are and i know i would feel differently if i actually had them and knew i was going to die but right now they sound like a relief, like maybe i could finally blame everything on it, my insanity, my emotions, reasons for actually getting the hell out of here (my mind) and living, it could validate me.  validation, ugh-something i'll never have. fuuuuccckkkkkk mmyyyy liiiiiffffeeeeeee, i'm such a whiny prissy bitch, will someone just teach me a lesson already cuz i'm certainly sucking at it!

Diary of the undiagnosed

Almost 16 hour fast from yesterday's binge, talk myself into going to the gym, get gym stuff together, drive to the gym hour and a half on the elliptical, half an hour treadmill, 15 minute bike (plus 2 of course because what if the timer is off and the machine is cheating me out of my full workout so i have to go at least 2 minutes over EVERY time separation to make up for it), fight with myself about going longer, don't because my knees are beginning to make that crunching noise and i can feel the blisters on my feet forming, swim, shower, weigh in: 123 (shit, need to lose 3 pounds), won't eat, don't eat, hungry, drive, grocery store stop on the way home, three thousand plus calorie binge in an hour on yogurt, lean cuisine pizzas, protein bars (that i habitually steal, because one day i decided they were too expensive and thought since the store was charging so much i would even things out with a five finger discount and found it exciting and a hell of a lot better than paying-yea, i know i'm gonna get caught: i kinda hope i can either kick this new little addiction before i do or have someone kick it out of me because i really don't like that i can no longer hide behind the "i'm a good person" defense of not lying, stealing, or cheating- because instead of just the two, i now do all three.  shit.) bulging stomach, boring life, think too much, stop thinking, plan tomorrow (it will be different, i'll exercise it all off and then just have a protein bar that i BUY and a pizza for dinner and maybe an apple), feel lonely, go crazy, get angry, hate life, hate self for making my life one to hate, vow to do something, find something, anything to get away from the life cycle that's killing me inside out, wait for the day to end, try to sleep, sleep, wake up, repeat.  THAT is my life when i am at home folks.  It is completely my fault that it's that way and I could easily change it.  Ok, not easily.  It would take a hell of a lot of willpower to break an 8 year habit and a willpower i don't have on my own.  My solutions always revolve around running away (this summer i'll go to costa rica, i'll get a job, i'll find an apartment, i'll roadtrip) and my reasonings for the insanity, though convincing and a bit manipulative, are never really reasons at all (i hate this house, this house hates me, too many bad memories, there's something wrong with me).  There is something wrong with me, and the thing that is wrong with me is, well, me.  I am what's wrong and I am what prevents what's right.  I could fight it.  I could figure shit out.  I could go to counseling.  I could stop blaming. I could face my fears. I could accept that all of my problems, yes all of them, are because of me.  Because i don't want to deal with them, because it's easier to take out all my anger about being left and losing friends and getting hurt and life and people in general on myself then to try to work shit out.  Why fight with my boyfriend about how we never talk or his issues or how much i miss him and end up crying at nights alone because i'm crazy and need him and he should just know that and text me but of course he doesn't know that because i would never tell him because that's weakness and i can't let him know i'm not the perfect girlfriend because he'll leave but why do i care if he leaves because i already know it's not going to work, that we'll break up in a year or this summer or next week or he'll cheat on me or i'll get fat and he'll hate me and i'll hate me and i'll run away and i can add it to my list of reasons why i should hate life so i have a reason behind why i'm not happy, why talk to him about any of that when i can just as easily and less risk-il-ier have ranting monologues to myself on an internet blog and eat and exercise myself into a state of insanity in which i want to either just die or break something or curl up in a ball and just cry (which is usually how my insanity cycle ends, by a rush of tears).  Why don't i just yell at my dad or at coop or kel or greg or joy or jenny or even fucking god.  Because i'm too tired to figure out if i should be angry at them, because i dont want to feel guilty for being angry at them, because i'm afraid they'll die with me being angry at them.  What if the last thing i ever said to my father was "i hate you for taking my best friend away from me, i hate you for hurting my mother and making me grow up so fast, i hate you for making me leave canton, and i hate that you still don't see it and that i can't tell you because you turn into a dobby-like martyr beating yourself up before i can even get a punch in."  What if i told my mother " i hate you for homeschooling me, i hate that you isolated me from everyone just because being a pastor's wife made you isolated and you have no friends, i hate that you have no friends, i hate that you never stop working, i hate that there is absolutely nothing to hate about you because you're perfect and i love you so much it hurts."  What if i yelled at jenny "you fuckin bitch, i hate you, i trusted you, you were like a mentor to me, you manipulative whore" or to greg "you bastard, you told me you loved me, you told me you loved me more than her, you broke my heart" or to coop "way to be a friend coop, excellent job, fantastic, thank you for supporting me, thanks for being a self absorbed slut, hope you enjoy your life in hypocrite-ville, fuck you, don't try to be friendly with me-we aren't friends."  It's so much easier to yell at yourself, especially when you can pick out things that aren't really a problem but you could be blamed for so then you can punish yourself but not really deal with anything.  Great job.  You're on the road to success.  Good luck ever getting anything right you fuckin screw up.  I have daily guilt trips that fuel my malfunction and when i realize that i'm not having one, i throw myself into one because it can't be right that things are ok, i'm missing something, i can't be happy, happy is pride, and pride is bad, nobody likes someone who is prideful and nobody likes a complainer. Yea well no one likes a fake either, no one likes a shallow "let's pretend it's all hunky dory while i sit in the dark talking to myself and wishing for a death" maniac.  no one likes me.