CLOWN

See this?

...

THIS is the face of a girl who wants desperately, DESPERATELY, to throw up all her halloween candy.

THIS is the face of a girl who cannot get away with throwing up anything right now.

THIS is the lipstick besmeared face of bitter fucking irony.

...

All you can do is laugh

Today I ate my weight in icecream...

My weight was nicely down this morning. Blessed hangover weight. But the scent of self sabotage was in the air and I filled myself to the brim with various confections. I emptied myself again, but never quite enough, and I'm sure I'll be fatter tomorrow.

Guess What?

I just had my last day of uni

EVER

that is, I am now pretty much a doctor.







I am also very drunk, as one tends to be when they finish uni and become a doctor. And I am surrounded by boys who are drinking and celebrating. And a couple of them just screeched away in their vehicle and from their window they yelled out at me "you are a fucking slut".

And they don't realise how much it stings. How could they? When I have spent every moment of my life deliberately and carefully guarded. Never getting too close or being too cosy or having anyone know me in case they see that I am not good enough. Yet despite my care and despite my distance I am a "fucking slut".

And I look in the mirror and even though I am drunk and my guard is down, all I see is fat fat fat. And I think that because I am drunk and because my guard is down maybe, for once, I will see a true reflection of myself and it won't horrify me. And all I see is fat fat fat.

Watching the Clock

8.54pm


Want to binge

I'm not going to though. I'm going to have a shower and go to bed. Today has been about 600 calories. My weight is plateauing something terrible at the moment but I just don't think I can go much below that for now. Still, 2 days and no chucking. It's a win.

Love you all my darlings. If not for your support I'm certain I'd never have made it.

Pasco
x

finally, beloved bedtime

I did it!
I CAN do it!

I held out and held out and by 7pm I reached a sort of tipping point. Where the space of time I needed to fill until I could go to sleep was small enough that I was confident I could get through it without eating. And once that confidence hit me, it was easy.

So now here I am, sitting in my bed, ready to lay back and shut my eyes and forget about the hunger growling away in my belly. A day without vomiting, a long time coming. And worth the effort.

Oh Blah!

I haven't had a good day in ages.

I keep starting off OK then as the day goes on it just gets worse and worse, building up steam, and I'm without fail puking in the shower every night before bed. I haven't had an all out binge in a while. Just bits and pieces creeping their way in until it's all just a wee bit WAY bit too much.

Every morning I wake up and think righto! Good day today. Never happens. Right now it's 4.14pm and I've already had 500 calories today and all I'm thinking is food food FOOD! Aaaah crap. I wonder if I should just go buy myself a big fucking bit of cake and a litre of icecream and get the fucker over with.

But then I know I just need ONE decent fucking day to lift myself out of this.


God fucking dammit.

ran

I wrote my previous post in a drunken stupor following a night I can barely remember. One thing is for certain, it wasn't literal. More a... forging blindly into the dark with branches whipping your face desperately escaping... sort of run. It was a good night though. So I'm told.

I really want to detox. 3 day water fast followed by 2 day juice fast followed by 2 days raw to round off a week. It sounds so magnificent and fantastic. I want to feel that freshness. Cool. Air, light and water. Sunset silhouettes and balmy breezes.


But it seems I'm never alone or in control enough to live out such a plan. And any time I'm steered even a little off course I do terribly. I just want my own little deserted island with nothing but swaying palm trees and bubbling springs. Dip in my toes. Juice a few coconuts on days 4 and 5. Maybe a mango on day 6.

what the fuck can you do except RUN

Existential Crisis

Who am I?

Tonight I am suffering. I can't get out of my own head. I don't know where all this comes from. I don't know how I can continue to function when I am so dysfunctional. Somehow I am supported, held upright, by all the structures in place around me. I have constructed this life around myself but I am completely lost in the middle of it. My feet don't even touch the ground anymore. The person I am is a lifeless doll propped upright by a tower of scaffolding. Construct construct construct, buy things, dress this way, make up that way, consume consume consume, accumulate.

CONSTRUCT

Building this life around myself from the inside out, a giant protective ball against some aggressor I don't even remember. Effective at first, then increasingly entropic and now completely out of control. Exponentially increasing chaos. Like the rat, continually pressing its button for a hit of dopamine until it dies. Quick, desperate, positive reinforcement. Now a rapidly spiraling, completely nonsensical set of behaviours I can't change.

AND I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER WHY

What was wrong with me? What was so bad that I had to bury myself underneath all of this? Who the fuck was I? Who am I?

hot summer nights

I calmly binged and threw up tonight. The pressure just kept mounting, the craving intensifying. I didn't feel too terrible or out of control, I just decided to do it and get it over with. I'm hoping the release will be enough to stave off the urge for a few good days. I certainly feel disgusting now that it's over. I generally do afterward. Groggy and ill. Stale. Stagnant.

All I'm craving now is hot summer nights and cold summer drinks.
Wooden floors boards, open windows, warm sticky night air, quiet and distance and breeze and strangeness. Sweat, humidity, contemplation. Stillness. Dark and stars.