OK, so excuse the profanity displayed in this image. And just so you know, this is NOT my body. But I'm pretty sure this is a representation of how every female (and sometimes male) feels about her (sometimes his) body most of the time in today's society. It sucks, you know? Some people, when they find their way of eating healthy and enjoying themselves without going overboard, when they find their happy weight, there are some curves thrown in there. I, for one, know that I will never ever EVER be a stick figure girl unless I decide to completely starve myself or completely purge everything. Naturally, I have a butt, I have hips, I have thighs. My body isn't a perfect line, my stomach isn't concave. You can't see my ribs or my hipbones, and I have more than just a little bit of extra skin. But am I fat? No, not at all. Even though I want to be smaller, to feel fragile, to feel free, I'm tired of being disgusting. I am in no way saying that I'll stop. I'm just tired of it, that's all. And that's a step.

Nightmare

It's not even working. The numbers do not satisfy. I wish it never even crossed my mind.


I had a dream that I was possessed. It was weird. I don't even know if possessed is the right word. I was more like a captive. I was 100% me, but there was this voice in my head, this evil force keeping me from the rest of the world. I couldn't be with the people I loved, I couldn't talk to them, I was ridiculed for even thinking of them. It hurt. My body was a walking prison. I was controlled by this evil voice inside of my head, this evil force, and while I was dreaming, it seemed as if this voice was all too familiar. It felt as if I had heard it before, lived it before. It was deja vu. It was real. It was scary. I remember fighting back, finally getting through to the rest of the world, telling a certain person that I loved her, but then I was punished. The Earth stood still, but my whole body shook. It was like I was talking on the phone and the phone vibrated, but then it shocked my body, blurred my vision, made my ears ring and burn with pain. I could do nothing, I was in bondage, I was a slave.

Maybe I had that dream because I fell asleep watching Bedazzled, a 60s movie (remade in 2000) about a guy who sells his soul to the devil to win over a girl. The devil was so charming, and from the parts I saw, he was so nice. And he was beautiful--his hair, his voice, the way he looked at things. I didn't get through the whole movie, of course. I'm sure he got worse as the movie went on because there was probably a good lesson in it and everything. But the devil that was in my dream, in my brain, it was the devil that everyone pictures. He spoke gently, but his words were slippery. The spilled out of my head and wrapped themselves around my throat. He laughed at me, he loved my suffering. He loved isolating me from everything--preparation for hell, he said.

I woke up praying thanks to God that it was a dream, thanks to God that the devil has no control, thanks to God that I am forgiven, I'm sorry that I do stupid things, I'm sorry that I want to go my own way... but anything would be better than what I had dreamed of. Where do dreams come from? Do they come from God or do they come from the devil? Why would the devil want me to dream such horrible things about him? Wouldn't he want me to think only good things about him so I would sell my soul to him like Stanley did in the movie? So maybe this dream came from God. Maybe he's trying to protect me. I'm scared.

I already wrote once today, but I was in a hurry, so I'm writing again.

I am such an angry person. And when I'm mad at someone, I don't avoid them. I don't make sure that I don't ever have to see them again. I want to be with them. I want to be with them and make them feel as miserable and guilty and disgusting as possible. And then I become the bad person. I poke and prod to no end. I rub noses into the carpet until they break and bleed. I make a hole in the person bigger than the hole they left in me. And then I'm not even done. I'm never done. They have to run away, they have to get away, far, far away from me until I don't care anymore. I care for a long time.

This summer is turning into last summer quickly. In good ways and bad ways.

I'm happy and sad.
I'm a tangle of words that I can't straighten out.


I was talking to this guy that's my friend, but more of a friend of a friend (confusing, I know) about God, about religion. I, personally, detest the term 'religion' because it's what makes things so crazy everywhere. I just believe in God. I believe in who He is.

You're Awful, I Love You

"I was running in circles,
I hurt myself just to find my purpose.
Everything was so worthless,
I didn't deserve this,
but to me you were perfect."
Hollywood Undead, Circles

I like working a lot. And going to the gym a lot. However, I do NOT like coming home and being extremely hungry and not knowing the difference between hunger and appetite. Anyway.. I'm excited for college. So excited. I met some really nice people, and seeing my dorm room and looking at the list of all the things that I need to make it mine is pure euphoria.. but not really euphoria because that is a waaay exaggerated state of being that never really exists in me.

OK, the end.

It Was Ego Who Was Flying the Banner...

"The end result of so many meetings,
late night diners with no one in them.
We sit in corners and sip burnt coffee,
count the tiles upon the ceiling.
Skip this pretense and skip straight to dying,
don't beg me to keep your eyes from crying.
You said so much without ever parting your lips.
It's past 3 AM, and I'm still far from sleep.
This is a habit that I can't break."
From Autumn to Ashes, Chloroform Perfume

It's funny how I can take any song and twist the meaning in my mind, so it applies to you. Welcome home. My throat hurts.

"Hanging out with every boy in town,
Some won’t mind, and some will feel let down.
Did you wonder how they live without you?
You said ’I love you’ without thinking twice,
I knew I didn’t but thought it was nice.
Right through your eyeballs I saw our demise
Twisting and certain as ebony skies.
Flaking out on everyone around,
Some won’t ask, but some will talk about,
What it is that eats your conscience out.
As you wander all around the town here.
With nothing to lose and nothing to fear.
I guess some you win, and some you did.
You move much better when you can’t hide.
You look content when you’re open wide."

-Schooner, Carrboro

Once I finished registering for my classes in the fall, I got the biggest sense of peace that I've had in a while. The whole college thing--the new people, the classes, the stress, the transition--was sitting on my shoulders and breathing down my neck. I was completely weighed down. But now, a lot of that pressure is gone. Part of the burden, I've taken off and pushed behind me, another part, I've pushed in front of me. As for the rest of it, I'm taking it down slowly as I get things done.

So in the fall, I'll have 5 classes on Monday. Biology for 50 minutes, Romance Literature for 50 minutes, Chemistry for an hour and 15 minutes, some random pre-nursing class for 2 hours, and then Folk Art for 3 hours. CRAZY. The rest of the week is pretty chill. I have a three hour bio lab on Tuesdays, a three hour chem lab on Thursdays, bio plus chem plus lit on Wednesdays, and then only lit and bio on Fridays. So I'll have one day where I'm occupied for 29348392 hours and then the rest is just whatever. I seriously never want to eat the food at the dining hall EVER because I had a mad stomach ache after every meal on Thursday and Friday.. so maybe I'll never eat. Ever. kasfjkajdakljakfld. Yeah right. I love saying that I won't. It makes me feel so empowered. I always eat, though. Always. So don't worry. Even when I don't want to take care of myself, I do. It's an automatic thing.

ksdfkakjad
110110110110
needneedneed
110110110110

I think

I'm up and I'm limping (mentally). I would love nothing other than to go back to sleep. But you don't burn calories while you're sleeping. But it might not even matter in my case. I don't think I burn them while I'm awake. Three pounds in two days after taking six weeks to lose two. I didn't even have to use my spare time to hate myself. It just happened. This is not me, I am not this stupid, fat girl. I have no idea who this is, living on top of me. I want her to die, and I want to live again. Because this is not me.

At the Bottom of Everything

When you're by yourself, you can't make the wheels stop spinning, you can't keep the thoughts from wrapping around your brain like the umbilical cord wraps around a displaced baby in the womb. The baby is in danger, your sanity slips away.

I guess that's why we find distractions. Drugs more some, sex for others, binging and purging for another. But then there are other bad habits that don't just make us forget about the thoughts, they just make everything freeze. And I wouldn't mind freezing right now, I just don't think I can. I'm weak when I pull up my dress to look at the muscle that has grown under the fat in my thighs, pushing it out, making me look less than human. I am weak when I leave fingernail marks on my stomach, on my hips, on my arms. I am weak when I put toast in the toaster, pour the cereal into the bowl. And I can't change that by myself. I can't do anything alone. This isn't dying, it's just using my spare time to find more things to hate about myself. And lately, I have a lot of spare time. You think filling it would be easy, but it's almost like I don't even determine what's going on. Everything falls into place, and I'm right where I started, back in the mirror, back in the bathroom. Filling time is like filling in the blanks in a censored letter. You're left wondering, I'm left wandering and stumbling and trying to make my way through the dark, up a steel hill that I can't see the end of.


Light, shine. Don't let me forget you. Don't let me panic and fall down pleading and begging, only to forget again. It's disgusting.

I'm wide awake, it's morning.
I'm wide awake, it's morning.

Don't let me forget why I am blessed. Oh, I am blessed, I am blessed, and I wish I could be more thankful.

I Dreamed You Were Carried Away By the Crest of a Wave

Frustration leads to examination. Examination leads to discovery. Discovery leads to growth. And this growth is hope, this growth is freedom. Although displayed negatively, these words have been written in a positive light. Saving up sentiment, bottling up emotion is what causes the paint to mix into something poisonous. This may by bitterness displayed, but it is better than bitterness fermented, bitterness twisted, bitterness bleeding like ink, dripping down my throat.

--

I guess it was an escape from reality. In giving up what I gave up, I was strong. I was a warrior, a survivor, I did not need. And I was different. I didn't have to grow up. I lived in Never Never Land, floating lightly as a brightly colored autumn leaf, resting on the wings of a fictional angel. But I temporarily blinded, I couldn't recognize where I was, I couldn't recognize what I had become. Instead of loving, instead of thriving in my fantasy world, I recognized it as a time of suffering, a time of dying. Living inside the mirror wasn't a miracle, it was a curse.

And if you believe something long enough, proclaim a single statement with diligence and perseverance, you can speak it into existence.

The glass shattered slowly, the ice melted with the newly created fire, and something that once stood so gracefully, so beautifully, now lays like old rain in the crevices of the sidewalk. I am weak, I am liquid, this is reality, this is my curse.

I am who I said I was, not then, but now. I am the opposite of my affections, the monster in previous nightmares. And I think I'm starting to be OK with that, I think I'm starting to turn this thing around. There is no such thing as a free ride. One must always sacrifice. In these situations, it is what is given that makes all the difference.


And I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.

On another note:

I should have stayed behind glass. I shouldn't have revealed the pounding in my chest, I shouldn't have proclaimed the magic words that make a statement like this irreversible. Now I'm in, and I can't get out. It's getting deeper, I'm getting attached to something I won't be able to hang onto. And it's only been a week. How can I feel so much in a week? How can I resist and then slip in gently and violently all at once, my emotions raging, my composure settling and unsettling, my hope soaring when I hear I hear the crack of his lips, the smile in his voice? How could I be so stupid? How could I let myself feel again?

Slow down tornado,
I want to sit down.
I can't seem to count right,
I keep spinning around.
There are kisses on my shoulder,
ghosts under my skin.
The right contact releases
what I've for so long hid.

It's not like they don't know,
I guess I'm still ashamed.
I fell in a hole
while reciting the verses, speaking the name.
Yeah, I know I was happy.
I was caught in a breeze.
But reality hits like a brick
when the cool winds cease.


I want to go back to bed.

Trees Get Wheeled Away

You know, it's hard to notice sometimes, but it feels like a knife, cutting my heart in half and stealing all the good. They're filling it with poison, but I can feel nothing more than a small tug every so often.

I finished reading a book, and I cried--real, liquid tears. I don't think I've ever cried at the ending of a book, no matter how sad it is, but this one really got to me. A few people that read this know what book I'm reading, so I won't give away the ending to those who also plan to read it, but it was completely unexpected, and almost wrong. It was like triumph and victory for the main character with a page or two left for the absolute worst to happen.

It's weird how life is like that sometimes, how our Christian walk is like that. After the biggest successes, the greatest leaps of growth, we take a small step backwards and end up falling down the pit we just made it across. Yeah, we had the strength to jump, we just lacked the wisdom to realize that we need to learn from our past experiences. We forgot that looking behind can actually benefit us, so we fall into the mess that we have (or Christ has) just overcome.

The first time I ever got depressed, I can hardly remember the reason. It was probably a broken relationship that hadn't even really started mixed in with family problems resulting from the death of a loved one. Depression is different for everyone, some disguise it with anger, some cover is with quietness, others scream for attention, wrap their tears in blood and hate. I started asking for attention. I was young, barely thirteen, the first time I set the scissors on my wrist watched blood start trickling out. If I hadn't wanted attention, I would have picked a better spot. But I wanted it to be out in the open. And it was, at first. I reveled in the attention until I started receiving the wrong kind of attention which resulted in counseling and yelling and a lack of privacy. Then I got a little more secret because the sadness bloomed inside of me like a flower. I was attending church all of this time and Jesus came inside of me like a really good landscaper, buzzing down the weeds that I had allowed to grow. However, I missed the weeds, I wanted them back, so I chose to let them grow, ignoring my landscaper, ignoring what I really needed. The cuts were secret, but then they stopped. I rehired him in the summer while I was away, only to shortly let a new string of weeds grow along my garden of thorns. I tried to make myself disappear, my body, my image became my worst enemy. I rehired him once again during the summer, trying to spread his services and his love to other people the next year. But then I fell in a hole when I met a certain person who said he wanted my landscaper, but really only wanted me and depended on me and blamed me when anything went wrong. My heart was kicked and beaten and bruised until I felt like I had nothing left. I was no longer of garden, but a field of garbage. I was absolute garbage. And I kept running away. I tried to find other people to do the work of the landscaper, they would grow tiny flowers that never seemed to come up right. They would make me happy for months at a time, but end up dying and adding to the rubbish of my wretched field. I tried to think of more ways to make myself disappear, but nothing worked anymore. The guy who hired the good landscaper wanted all of me to stick around because I think he had a big project planned for my field. I just had to make the choice to stop standing in chains, petitioning the reconstruction of my garden. I'm still trying to make that choice.

wordswordswords

"With all those curls and off-white pearls, I'd say you came... looking for love."

I miss This Love Machine. Why did they have to break up? :(
Oh well.

I miss too many things.
Like the ocean and one ten and kisses and ease and peace.
(When was there ever peace?)

imisskdsjfkalanaandstadjffkaldrvingandloosepandkljalajatsandgrowlingandfacingdeathsdkfdlasdfankdfjakljkaldworryandbeiajkfajdfadkls;ngincontrol

I tried to read again today and I got amazingly distracted, but I guess I'm trying at least. I hate the mindset I have sometimes. I feel like the exception. I can read and read and see examples of things that He has done for people who have done things that aren't pleasing and doubted Him.. and how He still loves them and wants to be with them, but my mind (or Satan) keeps telling me that I'm the exception, I'm the one who doesn't get that. And I hate that I can't break free of that.
I'll be reading and it's like Hah, whatever. You've read this before, you've lived this before. What's the point? It's not like it applies to you, Mrs. Screw-Up-of-the-Century. But I was in the shower yesterday, and stuff sort of came together in my mind. There is no truth outside of Him. I'm a liar, everyone is a liar. He is the only absolute truth in the universe. Everyone lies, it's scary how much people lie, how you can't trust anyone.. but you can trust Him.. even though I'm stupid and I definitely don't. I think I can trust myself, but I can't. I'm so full of lies that's it's a trip. I think I'm fat, I think I'm ugly, I think everyone hates me, I think God doesn't love me, I think I'm an exception, and the list goes on and on. I mean, it's not anything that anyone does that puts these ideas into my head.. it's all me. And maybe I have a past, maybe I've been in abusive relationship (with a guy, with myself), but shouldn't I take these things and make them into something good?

I'm rambling so much and my excessive coffee drinking has given me a stomach ache. I need to go clean my room so Aunt and Uncle can stay in it next week. I get to sleep on the floor after graduation. Yay? But it doesn't matter. I'll have graduated. I'm excited for this next week. Tomorrow, I have a graduation thing at church, Tuesday, a more intimate church graduation thing, Friday-GRADUATION!!!, Saturday-fiestas de graduation, and then next Monday, I have a Chick-fil-A graduation thing. ksdfjadkjfadl, I need to get moving.


---

I'm having really stupid resentment feelings right now, and I want to scream.

I'll Trap You In A Song Tied To A Melody

Blank white screens.

Too many text messages.

Too many people to please.

Too many people to upset.

Fatigue.


Money.

Bright Eyes.

Calories.

Coffee.

TV Screen.

Elliptical machine.

Weights and weights and scales and weight.


Curfew.

College.

Cupcakes.


Kisses.


Magazines.


Kisses.


"Now it's not so hard to get close to me. There'll be no arguments, we'll always agree. I'll try to be kind when I ask you to leave. We'll both take it easy."



I want to go somewhere and take pictures of scenes all day long. Taking pictures of people and memories is too difficult.

I feel sick to my stomach, I think the hunger was better.


Ugh, it was so easy. It was too easy.

Summer

"I need a fix 'cause I'm going down..."


I guess summer is my fix.
I want to stop being tired.
It's ruining everything.

Right now, I want too much. I want to start being friends with all of the people I used to be friends with. I'm sick of having so many guy "friends" that secretly just want to hook up with me. They're fun to hang out with and convenient when I need to go somewhere and don't have anyone to go with, but they're aggravating. I'm so tired of it. And I hate hurting people that have done nothing to me. Urgh. I want to lose 20 pounds. Yeah, ridiculous, I know. If I just invested in a bunch of size-4 jeans and lost 5-7, I'd probably be fine, but I don't want to buy new things. I'm stupid and stubborn. I want to be busy, I want to be out of the house, walking, shopping, talking, doing anything but being in the house. And it's working so far, but I just can't make myself get up and go. I'm so tired that it's killing me. This medicine needs to get out of my system before I explode of tiredness and irritation. And I think I'm getting sick, too.. which helps.. whatever. I want to buy a lot of Bright Eyes CD's and roll my windows down and blast them as I drive way too fast down I-40, not going much of anywhere. I'd say that I want to go to the beach, but I don't know. Going there alone isn't that great. But friend is a weird concept to me. I've basically removed myself from most of them, and I don't know how to undo that. I should probably just shut up half of the time. I don't know. I'm ready to graduate. I'm done with school, but they drag this stupid thing on, making us wait to finally walk across the stage. I don't think I'll cry. I don't have anything left here, really. Even though that's a lie because everyone has changed me, made me who I am in one way or another. And I love those people even though I'm terrible at loving people. I just try to stay away. I'm too much of a burden sometimes. Loving and suffocating are two different things, so in my attempts to love, I pull away, giving all of the people freedom from my pointless drama and mood swings. I wish I knew how to stop it, but I don't. So leaving is just a better option, I guess. I hope things can be different in Greensboro.

And now I'm running out of time to go to the gym because I have work at 3 and blehhh. Busy, busy, but not really.

Four letter lie:
I'm singing songs,
I'm writing lines.

Just to survive,
survive, survive.