I haven’t been on this blog in a really long time and reading everything I posted just brings me back. It’s depressing, but sadly I miss it. My life is great right now and I can’t imagine going back to that. Maybe it’s the self control that I had, maybe I’m just crazy
I actually lost half of it from working out a lot while eating healthy. After I started losing weight and noticing the differences I developed an eating disorder and was exercising compulsively because I was scared that I was going to gain it back. I don’t suggest restricting at all because I went through weird cycles of starving and then bingeing. Those journal entries are pretty old, I overcame my ED over a few months while gaining some weight back. Now I’m trying to do it the right way so I won’t have to deal with the mental struggle of food lol. But to answer your question, I’m a lot better. I should probably take that other page down. thank you.
Fly me out of this town so I can start new and get away from the judgments/grudges that everyone holds on me.
I’m not fucking perfect. I am sorry for all of the expectations that you have for me…or the lack of. I am sorry that I am irresponsible, naive, and make rash decisions. I’m empty okay, and that’s not suppose to be an excuse, but it’s a legitimate reason for the way I am and the way I make decisions. Regardless they are shitty decisions, but whatever we all make them. But times like this — times where I really need a god damn hand to help me back up…Well, I guess I just expected you to be here for me or at least sense that I needed you. I suppose that’s my issue for having expectations for you as well. I should take my own advice huh?
It’s kind of funny when you think about the different connections that we have made with people. So many bonds and so many amazing memories that float in front of our eyes from time to time. They come and go as simple as the seasons. I’ve never seen so many loved ones come and go in my life. Although connections are important and make you feel full — I’m tired of having them because I’m tired of them being taken away from me.
It’s funny, how lonely your mind makes you feel or how happy you could be, but how easy it is to hold yourself back from it feeling so.
I’m a fake, I’m two faced to people I care about and my friends know it. I love what I hate, I am indecisive, I know what I need to do, but I have no motive. I feel like I have so many things to prove, but proving is never enough because I say a lot of things and 90% of the time — I never mean it. I have let everyone I love and care about down and it hasn’t changed. Everyone worries. My parents don’t deserve this, my friends don’t deserve this, but I don’t deserve this either. I can’t sleep. I can hardly eat. I hate thinking and I’m tired of pretending. I know people care about me so I shouldn’t feel alone, and this isn’t a fucking self pity thing. I’m just being realistic, but I shut off the ways for anyone to contact me. I’ll be gone for a while. I’m sorry, but I hate me too.
I have for years and nothing’s changed.
This site isn’t safe for me. It just triggers me to do things that are insane. I don’t know why I’m so obsessed with these photos. My mind tries to tell me that these women are sick but my eyes register them as perfect. Why do I want to look like that? I never thought in a million years that I would be this way. I think back as a child and how I thought that anorexia was strange and uncommon, almost unrealistic. I didn’t personally know one person in the world who had this disease —I still don’t. I often wonder what my life would be like if I did know someone. At least then I would have someone to talk to about it. Instead I’m on here, posting entries on this site as a sad attempt of coping with my feelings and maybe it’s for attention, but I doubt it because I doubt anyone on here even reads this stuff. All I know is that I grow weary.
This is a secret, but I haven’t eaten in a few days. Absolutely nothing and what is so fucking depressing to me is that I am only actually happy when I starve myself. That is just so fucked up because I know that isn’t normal, but it feels normal and it shouldn’t. What doesn’t seem normal to me is how people can eat meals and food all day and not be worried about it because I know as soon as put something in my mouth, I become this psychopath who just gets completely depressed, I absolutely despise myself afterwards, and then I scream in my head over and over again how I wish I could obliterate the day. If it weren’t for my best friend and my family, I doubt I’d still be here and that just kills me that I could even think that.
I have an issue, I have came in terms with it for some time now; several months actually. But it has gotten so worse, I guess it just keeps getting worse as the time goes by and it’s getting harder to keep a secret.I know my friends know, they just don’t ask. I’m not sure how I feel about it, I guess I’d rather them not ask because I don’t know if I want help. Do I need help? Probably. I certainly don’t talk about it, there is no way anyone would understand. I suppose I mention bits of hints but, idk. I guess I don’t feel like typing anymore.