Irrelevancy at its finest.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Today, the anorexic girl that lives across the street from me attempted suicide by driving in a 35 mph zone at 110 mph, and flipped her car into a canal.

She is suffering with not life-threatening, but serious injuries.

...

When I heard the news, I had to sit down.

My past was staring me in the face, as it has been for the past few days.

Every day, I look down at the scars and they seem to be looking right back up at me, pleading me to recreate the mess that I made of myself.

And something inside of me wants that.

Something inside of me wants to return to how I was last year, the hate, the harm, the starvation...

I'm thinking about summer now, what will become of me.

Last summer was spent skipping meals, eating about only 500 calories and then burning 600.

Even then, there were no results.

But something about that seems so appetizing, so...

beautiful.

When in all reality...

the thought is anything but.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

It scares me how much my two best friends and I are obsessed with being thin.

My boyfriend struggled with anorexia a couple of months ago, and that sent me into a whirlwind of consuming jealousy and hatred, of both him and myself.

And since I know how eating disorders work, I know that that stuff doesn't just go away, it's never truly over.

My best friend's parents push her so much to be thin that she barely eats anything and she's pushed to work out really hard every day.

Her mother calls her fat, but I swear to God that she doesn't have an ounce of fat on her bones.

She's muscular. It's her body type. Her only way to get as skinny as her mom wants her to be is by starving.

She once told me "I don't think my mom would care if I starved."

I want to cry.

It scares me, and it puts me in a very bad position dealing with this stuff everyday. I don't want to think about bodies anymore. I don't want to be concerned about how I look in clothes, whether my stomach sticks out or not, whether the curves of my legs are prominent or not.

I hate it.

I hate everything.

I wish that I could just stop eating, or stop worrying, so that I could finally be happy with myself.

This is fucked up.