I just ate a bunch of crap.
A bread roll and a croissant.
Breadless streak is over.
I don't believe in emotional eating, but it seems that even when it seems totally unrelated I do eat when I'm upset.
It's more like this: depression-> laziness-> food out of convenience.
I've been so depressed the past couple of days. It's not so much rock bottom as it is the gutter.
I just feel like I'm the only sane person in a world of crazies, or like I'm losing my mind or something.
I don't know which.
It's so hard to swim against the current, especially when it comes to your self esteem.
Like, how do I feel pretty if the world seems to think to the contrary?
It's so hard to feel good about yourself.
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I know I should be doing something to get myself out of this funk but it's a vicious cycle where I just wanna hide and not do anything, and forget about things.
Augh, I want things to change but I feel kinda helpless at this point.
Just venting :(
What matters is your own opinion, and other people are just wankers. If you cultivate that solid core of self acceptance you will be solid gold baby. You are quite beautiful, but there is so much more to you than that. Self objectification is a slippery slope, you begin to believe your appearance is incredibly important. You will never sustain a relationship on looks alone, your wit, intelligence and playfulness are far more important. Look for a purpose in your life that makes you thrive and feel good about yourself. Also watch missrepresentation, super awesome documentary. Let's lead the revolution of female empowerment, we can take turns picking each other up out of the gutter. Remember, you are so much more than beautiful.
Girl, Happy Birthday (sorta belated) or congrats on surviving another year.
Heyo I was flipping through Rolling Stone and realized you totes look like this Meili Cady model/drug smuggler chick.[IMG]http://housearrestgirl.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/BESTPICX2.jpg[/IMG]
me2, I don't see the resemblance besides the hair.
[b]Goodbye, for good this time.[/b]
Anyway, my birthday was yesterday. Or... nope, just a regular day that I started with crying in bed and feeling sorry for myself (like I said, a regular day). The thing is, when you don't believe in God or that anything will ever change (it hasn't for the past 8 years) you realize that you're crying in an empty space, to no one, and how useless it is. It stopped being an emotional relief and just this physical response that you don't understand or need anymore.
There's no catharsis, which is why, I think everything always fails. I'm stressed and anxious and depressed and there's no permanent outlet or relief.
In the morning my extended family came. They ate, and left 30 minutes later. My mom, aunt and cousin spent the rest of the day/night talking about my cousin's boyfriend (and her many ex-boyfriends); I tried to hate her because she's tall, has a nice bod and basically makes me invisible when we go out (her long legs and big breasts stop traffic!), but I can't hate her. She's a sweet girl, and why, why do we do that anyway? We're all sisters. Having a female bff was something I always wanted and never had.
Jealousy is a waste of my time. I can't inflate my boobs or grow 20 inches, and I can't keep hating myself either (but I do, oh so freaking much).
Since my birthday expired today (and not a minute later) we all went shopping with my cousin.
I'd probably be jealous of her buying things if I wasn't so fucking obese.
And that's when I got enlightened (I wasn't telling you all this just to make you feel sorry for me).
I looked in the mirror, I tried a size 9 (waaaaaaaaaaaay too small) and I was shocked.
I had no idea I looked like that. I had no idea I'm that... big! I can't explain it but I've got probably some mild case of body dismorphia (which is why I care so much about what people think, it defines my reality because I can't believe my brain anymore).
It's a double edged sword because either I lose weight and I'm look just as fat to myself (unless I look at pictures months later and realize, gee, I was actually in good shape), or I'm getting fatter by the second and I'm completely oblivious because I've stopped caring and think I'm okay.
I'm not okay.
What the fuck am I doing? NOTHING.
What has MDA done for me lately? Not a whole lot.
Plus, I'm just in the gutter right now and I don't want to spread this vile self pity everywhere (I guess this would be the last time).
I hate that I do that, and I only do that because there's no one else to talk to. There's just literally no one.
I've always thought about having my picture on the MDA success corner, but it won't happen.
I declare this MDA journal a FAILURE.
I tried to delete my account today and I can't... So I'll have to disappear into thin air and have this as a nice reminder for those who thought I was funny in a whiny pathetic kinda way when back when.
I don't know what I'll do now, but if you're ever in town or want to keep in touch, here's my email:
Good luck lovely ladies and gentlemen, from the bottom of my heart! <3
I'm sorry to see you go. It seems like you could use some outside help and I hope you will seek it. You do deserve it. From what I've seen here, you've got an awesome personality and are someone I would not mind chatting with IRL. I'm not really good with email correspondence, so let me know if you ever move to the states/Boston area :)
You know that I will always love you. You deserve to be happy and that's why I hope you do something to lift yourself up. I dragged my ass out of cutting my own wrists and I know you have the gumption to pull out of your tailspin. Life is beautiful, there is so much love and joy just waiting for you. I will surely stay in touch. I hope some day we can meet. [video=youtube;14ivtcelIo0]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14ivtcelIo0[/video]
What an ugly ass journal.
Is everyone dead?
I came in search of some info. I think CilliKat once wrote me a doozy of a post outlining EPA/ DHA ratio and other stuff. I had it saved somewhere but I can't find it.
But good luck finding it this street-car-named-car-crash of a journal... ;/
I'm still fat. Fatter than ever actually. (BIGGER, BETTER AND FAT FOR EVER).
I'm still depressed but for other reasons now (I hate this city and I'm trying to claw my way out) but hopefully this problem will solve itself in 6 months time.
I have neighbours that daily test my racial tolerance.
SHUT UP YOU FUCKING ARAB WITH YOUR DAMN ARAB MUSIC AND THE SMOKING THAT SIPS ITS WAY TO MY KITCHEN AND ENGULFS MY ENTIRE HOUSE IN FUMES!!!
*Continues to sip tea with pinky up*
Downstairs there are a bunch of dicks that get together, smoke a bunch of weed and start rapping in French (yes you read that right: French) very loudly.
This is precisely what happens when you have no access to female company. DON'T LET THAT HAPPEN TO YOU!
I have to keep reminding myself that if I don't die from second hand smoke or get convicted for double homicide I will have the opportunity to frolic in Alberta's green fields and chase chubby grass-fed cows.
I'm in my last university year. Shocking, I know. If I'd decided to get a Masters you'd probably see me trotting to my classes with a cane and a hunched back. I'm such a prock-rust-inator.
I still don't have friends, but I choose to blame it on external factors and not my misunderstood yet oh-so-charming personality ;D
I have a cat now. And the reason I'm writing here now is because I've noticed that I care more about feeding the good stuff to this demon in furry disguise than I care about feeding myself.
His name is Pocket. He's the light of my life (fire in my loins, Po-cke--- UH, SAY WHAT?!).
Sorry BF. You're cool too. GIVE ME MORE SEX THOUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! >;o
Anyway, I tried exercising today and I failed. 6 times. I kept stopping and sitting on the floor, and at the end I couldn't even do the cool down. I guess things [b]are[/b] as bad as they look in the mirror.
But I'm trying to break the cycle with a 30 day challenge. *fingers and toes crossed*
The demon pretending to be cute and vulnerable so it can exploit your weaknesses:
The demon in its true form:
*Engulfs in hugs and kisses*
Glad to see you back from the dead. I know you can kick that 30 Day challenge's ass!