Saturday, November 21, 2009

Making myself blog.

If this is such a push, then why in the world can't I push myself to do everything else?

It's six on a saturday and I'm in college, in the library. Because I needed to leave that house. No energy to exercise but I can justify the walk because it has a purpose. Which is bloody ironic considering I've withdrawn from this semester and therefore have no need to be here until after christmas.

I'm really trying with this whole positive, motivated week. But christ it's hard.

I can't eat and forget about it. I can't. I'm not binging, I'm being controlled, but it's still all too much. Too fucking much. Keep telling myself I should. But the fucking guilt. Takes all not to make myself purge. So it's back to the laxatives. But I haven't binged and I use them when I've over done it. But two hundred calories is too much. It's not about the calories though. It's just too much. Not enough. I'm cracking.

I think my muscles are wasting. Still can't fix myself. This is a joke. Need to cop the fuck on. My mood swings are are taking over. Like now, I am not good. E. stayed at mine last night. I felt like I let her down by not being more cheerful. I even felt annoyed that she didn't ask why. And why the hell should it matter. Why would I want others to ask. Fuck. I think because it seems to be the topic of the month that it escapes that it shouldn't be apparent to other people. God does this self absorption ever end. I didn't want to tell my story. It's hackneyed and tedious. So why dwell on whether other people ;pick up on it or not.

For half of the day I m fine. I am functional. But bouts of this come about and I am confused. Always when I get some space to myself. I need the eleventh sooner. I'm not sure how the meantime will pan out. I can now see where my body is slipping away. But I can't stop.

What the hell happened? I need to get back to reading, and to writing, and to something productive. I have succeeded in making myself an extremely undesirable object. I do nothing, I fail my potential and those lines that define my whole body are delicious to nobody but me.

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