the facade.

Is it really a facade, or am I doing the half smile? Or maybe I'm just having insane mood swings.

It's hard for me to tell what emotion I'm feeling. It's weird. Because I know what they feel like...but I'm so numbed out, I'm not feeling anything. But at the same time, I can completely sink into my own world and feel so overwhelmed I'm paralyzed, or pretend like I'm the happiest damn person on the planet and ride on carts through Target. I'm not trying to say that my eating disorder makes it impossible for me to have a good time....I can have a good time, the only reason I'm questioning if it's a show or not is that as soon as the people I'm having 'such a good time' with leave, I'm back into the paralyzed, overwhelmed state where all I can do is mindlessly look at facebook or pick my split ends. 

I have good friends here though. I've known them for such little time, but I'm kept down because of them. I'm kept sane. I'm still using symptoms in a pretty out of control way, but even though no one (except Trevor) knows, I'm more at ease around them and...I don't know. It's nice to have people sometimes. I can't believe I'm saying that. Well, not to talk to about shit. But to have in case I think I'm going to explode. Or to distract me when they don't even know that's what they're doing. 

Because today was pretty awful. My weight is up. I'm trying to hear Rachel's words and remember that my fattened up state that I left ACE in was healthy in her opinion. In my opinion, it was extremely overweight. I'm fluctuating in that range and going up and down half a pound doesn't mean shit because it has more to do with whether or not I've taken a shit or my hydration level or what not...but a half pound is all it takes to make me spiral down. Which hints that I shouldn't weigh myself if I can't handle it, but I was at the gym and the scale wanted me to step on. On the bright side, I resisted the urge to buy a scale to have in my room at Target. Partially thanks to Lucy who continued to insist that it was a bad idea (and she doesn't even know)...and Trevor who looked at me all concerned. 

Part of me wishes I just got it anyway so I could get a more accurate weight in the morning instead of while I'm working out. 

I don't know. I really really really just have no fucking idea. I feel like I'm on a completely different planet. 

i have no words. literally.

I can't fully articulate anything that I'm feeling right now. It's a mixture of mehhhhh, dskfjlasdkjflkjaslgkjlkasdjoiasd=fgjskljfdfkjsad, and I NEED TO FUCKING PUNCH SOMETHING. 

I'm skipping my English class on Wednesday to finally start training at J.Crew. I know it's not a good idea, but this is something that I actually want to do, and I'm not used to having that. So fuck English, I never say anything anyway. French test Wednesday, paper due tomorrow....sigh. I forgot about how shitty I am at getting my work done on time. I went to bed at 7:30am this morning. Not to whine and sound like I want sympathy. But...when I was doing better...towards exams and the end of the school year, I could work better. I could focus on relating globalization to translated literature rather than the fact that my arms feel like they're shaking when I type.

I'm such a buzz kill around my friends, too. I can feel it. They're all talking and laughing and I just kind of...sit there. I feel bad that I'm the one that's pulling everyone down because of my issues. I'm the fucked up one...which makes me want to isolate. BUT I CAN'T FUCKING ISOLATE BECAUSE I HAVE THREE FUCKING ROOMMATES. One that is incompetent at cleaning a bathroom. Hair on the shower walls does not equal clean. I just end up cleaning it, and I don't mind...I know I'm controlling like that. But I'm still going to be pissed off because it's all I know how to feel, I think.

Anger? I'm ok with feeling that. Sadness? No.

I'm never hungry but I'm never full. I'm so glad I don't have to check in at meal groups. I don't have a number. And my anxiety? Through the roof. Always. 10,000. Is that an acceptable answer?

Not being able to articulate makes me not want to try and make it better. It makes it hard to know how to.

I NEED TO BREAK OR HURT SOMETHING. or scream. 




fuck it. just. fuck it.

faaaaaaat.

I'M SUCH AN ANNOYING GIRL.
I try my hardest to not be that annoying girl that's bringing everyone down and being completely obsessed with her appearance and shit. But I definitely am. We went to Trevor's last night, like usual to drink and smoke and whatever...but I was in the worst mood ever because my eating disorder was not letting me think. I saw myself in the mirror and my legs are so damn fat I can't even begin to explain it. What the hell. It's all I could think about. I didn't drink, I didn't want to. (There's a plus to the ed then...) But I didn't want to do anything. They were playing cards, I didn't participate. They played never have I ever (which I hate anyway)...but I didn't play that either. I was just playing games on my phone and shit. I wanted to leave, and that's the only thing I actually wanted to do. Trevor of course noticed and got all clingy and worried, but I didn't want to tell him what was up. I can't just say "oh, well...I don't want to be around any of you because my thighs are huge." and then they went to a big party and I went back to my room. Again, I couldn't be around people looking like that. And I hate that it controls me like this. I hate that I have to be such a slave to it that I won't even leave my room because I feel like I'm not going to be able to get through the door. I know I need to challenge it so I can get through this week without going insane restricting...
but seeing pictures of my thighs in all their glory didn't really help the cause.

I don't like being like this.