Unexpected goals

Sometimes those unexpected goals we reach seem the best ones.

They make us so happy, don't they? You go showdown with the certainty that you did it wrong, that you made another mess, that you failed again, because you haven't done what you were supposed to, and you realize that, instead, you somehow made it: you reached what you wanted.

I personally hate that.

Before I used to expect always the worse, so that whatever would have come wouldn't have been that bad, after all. But this sounds so childish, really. This sounds so much like cheating, somehow.

I don't want to only get my goals. I want to work hard for them. I want to deserve them.

So, yeah, this morning, after a pretty long sleep (the first one in 8 days, because nobody wants to waste a night in Barcelona sleeping, don't they?) I weighted my self.

I was supposed to do it yesterday, after fasting for whole the day. But when I got back home, at 1 am, I was so freaking hungry and I couldn't control my self at all, so, yeah, I ended up binging on those freaking cereals again.  A waste, I know, but my stomach was killing me and I couldn't even sleep and...yeah, basically I was too weak to resist.

 

Fucking fucking fucking fucking cereals!!!

Not to mention, I was too damn afraid to weight my self after that crap and passed out while reading some blogs here.

We all know the breathtaking feeling, the fear, the hope, the quivering anxiety we have when we stand in front of the scale. Our prophet. The messenger of our life. "Have you been a good girl?".

We can't hide from it. Those lbs or kilos stand there in black, shouting out loud their judgment.

"122 lbs. 55 kg. 122 lbs. 55 kg. Please please please, tell me I'm 55, tell me I'm 55, tell me I'm 55. Please please please please please please please. I'll be good. Next time you'll hear my no so clear that people won't ask me to eat ever again. Next time I'll show them how strong I can be. Please please please..."

And we go on, praying, begging, imploring, pleading in that couple of seconds the scale takes to examine our behavior and show us the bill for our actions.

Yeah, I'm 122. 55 kg. Yeah I made it. I somehow made it.
But do I really deserve that?
I don't feel like doing, actually.

This 7 days trip has been a killer for my diet.

I'm sorry. So sorry about it. I wish I had more control, I wish I had been stronger, but, as always, I wasn't.

This has to change This has to change This has to fucking change.

The trip was actually going pretty good at first.

The long travel really helped. It took us 2 days to reach Barcelona by bus, which meant 2 days of almost starving. Unfortunately those freaking girls were there just to piss me off.

I mean, they loathe me!They say that I'm creepy, an inappropriate weirdo, a disturbing presence. What's the problem with me not finishing my food?? Or not eating it at all? Sure, you don't have to mind about food. You're all already so thin. Well, I'm not! I gotta work hard to get a nice body. Maybe that's why they started behaving in a incredibly childish way and forced me to eat.

I hate sooo much when people who even loathe me and think I'm a loser and a freak and everything force me to eat. Damn, mind your fucking business as you always do!!!

So the first day I had 3 macaroni with tomato sauce +2 bites of meat for lunch/ 4 bites of meat + a slice of tiramisù (which I promptly vomited) for dinner. I have no idea of how many calories this has been.

The second day's diet was even better : 4 bites of chicken for lunch. Skipped dinner and walked and danced all night in Barcelona. (I had just a couple of drinks and a short and kept on weed, because alcohol is so damn fattening)

The third day, after walking for hours and 2 nights spent without sleeping I could hardly move. Things weren't going easy with my class mates and the other guys as well, specially with A., the skinny friend of mine, so I was very nervous all the time, was about to have a panic attack because I was always left alone and...well I couldn't stand A. at all. She was always eating less than me and she was flirting in a very provocative and childish way with a guy, when she has a boyfriend. Well I hate these things. In a relationship there must be respect, loyalty. What's the point in staying with a guy and telling him you love him when you behave like a bitch with a good looking guy?

Also, well this guy was interested in me, before. He told me I'm beautiful, different, special, and all that crap boys usually say when they want to get easy sex from lonely girls. Problem is that when he kissed me, maybe because I was high and a bit drunk, maybe because I was tired, maybe because I am simply  a nasty amount of fat and sickness, I didn't push him away. Didn't even kissed him as well, but I couldn't move. I was totally frozen. Then I somehow managed to escape from that, but these things hurt me, every time. They destroy me.

Plus he's known for flirting whit everything has certain female characteristics. And yeah, I felt, as usual, as I probably am, like a waste, a scrap, a "second choice".

This all ended with me escaping in panic from the restaurant, A. and C (this guy), such an inseparable couple!, finding me and taking me back to the restaurant and forcing me to eat some freaking, disgusting fried chips (I feel like vomiting if I only think about it). I couldn't even vomit, after, cause too many people were going in that fucking toilets, all people I knew, being students of my school and my class. And at dinner it was even worse, cause I ate 3 slices of pizza and a salad without even being forced. Couldn't vomit  even after dinner, so I kept the anger and frustration out with deep cuts on my tummy and hips, so that nobody is gonna see them.

Oh and the day after I had also a huge croissant for breakfast! Kept on a salad for lunch and ate other 3 slices of pizza at dinner time.

The day after I had 2 croissants, 4 bites of meat and fried chips (AGAIN!) for lunch and 3 slices of pizza for dinner (at this point I was so desperate I tried to vomit everything, but wasn't very successful), good thing I spent all night awake, walking around and dancing.

The day after I had the last fucking croissant of the trip, ate all the meat (vomited a bit after) but didn't have any dinner.

Last day: fasting, well, until I got back home.

 

So I don't really know how I managed not to gain weight and even to lose it. But one thing I know is that I didn't deserve losing it.

I hate food so much.

Hate the feeling of biting it, of having it inside me, another amount of dirt in my already dirty soul.

I told to some girls that one morning I woke up after my 2 hours of sleep and found C sleeping in the bed, embracing A.

All the girls hated me, cause I shouldn't have said such a bad thing. When they spent all the previous days talking of how disgustingly was A behaving.

But I'm always the villain.

The inappropriate one.

The one who stands out of the circle and pathetically tries to peek inside it, trying to become part of it.

They told me I'm awful. Because, after all, "A. is the only one who cares about you. How could you do something like that?"

Yeah, how could I do something like that?

And I suddenly smiled while walking back to the hotel, cause I really felt like it was time, like dots were linking together, like I had a clear view, finally. And I knew that I had to die that night.

But, as usual, I made the mistake of thinking about it.

And spent all night crying  (well, I can't really cry, so I did the closer thing to that I can do)on the stairs of the hotel. Smoked a great amount of weed. Went in my room. Said that I was sorry. Said that I know that my apologize wouldn't have changed anything, but I'm not able to change anything in better, so maybe that was for the best. And collapsed on my bed, not being able even to think properly, making huge efforts to put a couple of sentences together, and passed out while I was probably having hallucinations and couldn't even understand when I started dreaming.

There's something sad in being nearly 18 years old, the age of dreams and stuff like that, and feeling comfortable only when planning to die.

I'll write other, probably more interesting, considerations next time, cause this post is already so long.

A special thank you for Alice May, Kate and Run for being my new 3 followers. You can't imagine how much knowing that you follow me, and so kinda care about what I write and so what's happening in my life, helps me. Really, thanks.

Answers to the comments:

Alice May: I absolutely agree with the comment you left on my first post. Fear destroys me everyday. This is my greatest challenge: not being afraid of most things I am afraid of right now. I realize that I don't know anything about death. I'm not a maniac who just wants to die. I guess that if I didn't jump from the eight floor of the hotel is because I wish that I could fix my life, before wishing I was strong enough to die. Maybe I can't change many things in my life because, even if now is almost just crap, I'm (a bit unconsciously)afraid it will be even worse now. Although I'm aware that everybody has to take some risks sometimes.

Glad you like the blog =) And thank you for the support. Really. xxxx

AVY: Yeah this is true. I just wonder why it seems to me that, even if I'm (or I feel, cause we can just have perceptions of reality in my opinion) empty, their talks, their life are so happily vain. They talk about stuff I can't really understand. Make constantly jokes. Talk about...what? going around...boys...rumors...say horrible stuff about people who are supposed to be their friends...and other things that always live me a bit emptier. I don't expect to get new revelations every time I talk to somebody. But I just can't get in their talks. Can't get in their circle, in their love, in their admire or whatever. I'll come to check your blog as soon as possible =) thanks again for following xxxx

Kate: Thank you again for following. I'll come to see your blog as soon as I post this ;) xxxx

The monadic condition

Do you ever feel like falling in love with a sentence?


Sometimes it happens to me that I read something that simply can't get out of my brain anymore and the more I go on the more I get persuaded that there's so much of me in that sentence.

This has happened several times, but there's a Latin sentence I can't get out of my mind, which says "Homo sum: humani nihil a me alienum puto".This is the sentence I'd like to get a tattoo of and it basically means "I'm human: I don't consider as stranger anything which is related to human".

I truly believe in this sentence, I swear. But sometimes I wonder if I believe in it cause it's right or just because I feel the need of believing in something. Because when I look around, when I really see things, that doesn't sound so true.
It would be nice, I guess. And I'd love to make it. But do other people really want to? And are other people able to do it? Am I able to do it?

I seriously doubt that.

I'm seriously doubting humans in general.

I can't help feeling in love with humanity in general, but it's quite a sick love, actually.

Sometimes it turns into hatred.

Sometimes it's just an almost twisted curiosity.

The curiosity that you can have for a little, weird insect.

I'm sure some people find insect fascinating (I don't really do that, but I'm not even afraid, nor disgusted. Totally indifferent). But what if one day you wake up and find out you are one those insects?
I bet most people won't like to wake up as a spider, even if they don't shout like crazy when they see one.


So, having this love/hate relationship with humanity, and being a human myself, how could I love me?




I think that the only reason why I don't kill me is the doubt that one day I'll may really do something good for someone.








Still, sometimes it seems so hard to do it. And some other times I wonder if it will be worth it.
It's just that people seem all so... close inside each other. And all external relations seem to me so fake.
I'm afraid. I feel like I don't wanna play anymore. I don't like this game. And it's not because I'm a loser, cause I think that a game that at the end always ends up killing you can't really be won.
But anyway the point is that everyday I get a bit more confident with the idea that Leibniz was right when talking of people as monads, indivisible, closed, prisoned entities who can't even decide whether to live or not. And I'm not sure there's a way of escaping that condition anymore.






Changing topic, I feel a bit depressed right now. I did respect my diet, but I feel as if that wasn't enough.
Yesterday I did pretty a good job.
After school I went to the gym and then straight to the theatre course, which lasted 4 hours (getting ready for the play) and when I came home I said I was to tired and that I had eaten out and went straight to bed.
So all I ate was 3 crackers= 90 cal
And I burnt 700 cal of cardio, plus other exercises ( I dunno how much I have burnt with them), and then of course the 2 Km walking and the 4 hours of theatre. So I should have burnt at least 900 cal.
I'll check my weight on Saturday morning, before leaving for Spain (school trip, yay). Hope I'll menage not to binge during this Spanish week. A kind of friend told me she wanted to lose weight, so I hope we'll menage to support each other.


Today I respected my diet, but it was 500 cal and I feel a pig.
Plus I went with this other girl (A.) to do some shopping before leaving (btw she weights about 118 pounds and she's 10 cm taller than me...just to give you an idea of how does it feel to walk and go shopping with her). And the fucking shop assistant gave me such a disgusted face when I said I liked a bra, and commented that it wouldn't have looked good on me cause I was too big (instead on A everything looks good).

I was seriously about to have a panic attack right there in the shop.


I HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE THIS NASTY BODY!!!

IT'S DISGUSTING!

IT'S AWFUL!

IT'S EMBARRASSING!

IT'S SO NAUSEOUS!





I somehow managed to breathe and when I got back home I went straight to the toilet, vomited as hell and cut all over my arms. Lovely, I'd say.
When I start I always try to tell to my self "just a little bit...just a little cut". But the first is enough to make me lose the control and so I vomit until I only feel acid in my mouth and my arms are completely covered of cuts. My tummy is full as well and I did some on my shoulders as well. Hope they will disappear in a week cause even if during my trip I can wear proper clothes, but next Sat I will have to go to my cousin's baptism and my dress doesn't cover my fucking shoulders.
If I could control my self that wouldn't happen...I'd smack me so badly right now!!!

I dunno if I can make it alone. I'm afraid I really need a bit of support. I wish I was strong enough not to rely on anyone. But I am not, so I need other people. And this hurts. This hurts me every time. More than any shop assistants, more than any not fitting dress, more than any cuts.



Hope that if someone will ever read this, they're feeling better than me and they are better person than me. Not sure it's possible to find a worse one, actually.

Sick...

I'm getting used to the idea that nobody will ever read this, but I still can use it as a way to keep going and "staying strong".
And I will need a lot of strength. Oh! So very much, indeed.

Weighted my self today.

Ouch.

Damn.

Fuck.

125 FUCKING LBS!!!!!


I'm so ashamed...Feel so sick, so disgusting. Can't even look at the mirror. Oh damn. How did I get this fat? Where was I when my body was doing horrible things?
Why can't I ever ever ever ever control myself???

I hate this... I hate myself. I...I'm so tired of being my self. Why can't I be someone else? Someone better? Someone...not this dirt!
I have been told I'm a disappointment for all my life. I've tried to prove them wrong. I've tried to change. I didn't want to be such a worthless amount of fat and incompetence. I just wanted someone to like me.

But I'm still alone. And I was alone even when I was 89 lbs, but at least people didn't look at me with that disgusted face because of my awful body.

I'm not pretty.

I'm not intelligent. I was, maybe. But that must have been some time ago.



I'm not a pleasant company.


I'm not interesting. I read loads of books and do a lot of things, but that's not enough to make someone interesting, is it?


I'm quite keen on psychology, but every time I tried to give someone a bit of advice I apparently made a mess.

I'm the only one in my family who isn't a freaking genius at anything and hasn't won a fucking prize and shit like that.

I'm the freaking fattest girl in my class, and in all public situations, actually.

People keep not liking me. They say I give them the creeps.

I am ashamed of opening my mouth, cause every time I do it, I say the most inappropriate thing ever.

I'm not that good at school, when my father is very competitive and keeps telling me that whatever I do is not enough.

Oh you should see the way he looks at me when I eat. But how can I blame him for doing it, after all?

The boy I'm in love with loathes me, thinks I'm the most stupid and disgusting thing ever.

I'm apparently cheating the nicest, the sweetest, the kindest boy ever, cause we both desperately need someone to take care of us, but I'm starting considering the whole thing too much of a stress and too pathetically fake.

I am such a fake, such a sleazy person.

I'm a freak of nature.

There's no place for me, anywhere. I'm just too big and full of crap to deserve to live.

Why shouldn't I die, after all? I have never done anything good in my life and I never will. What's the point with trying? Why making this effort?

I wish I could die right now. Gently suffocate...

I feel so sick but I don't want to vomit. It's not good for my metabolism and I have already vomited a bit, actually.
Uhm not really " a bit" but not even soo much.
I didn't mean to...but I did it.
My fingers went down my throat before I could get the control of my body back.
Couldn't go to the gym today. Damn it damn it damn it again!



I've been able to follow my diet though (for what it's worth...)

Breakfast: sugar free coffee
Snack: 3 crackers (90 cal)+ sugar free green tea
Lunch://
Snack/dinner (well, it was 4.45 pm, so I don't know how to consider it): seafood soup (the whole thing was 120 cal and I ate half of it, so 60 cal) + 3 pieces of chocolate (150 cal) + sugar free green tea

Tot: 300 cal

but I haven't exercised...well, not yet. And I think I'll take another sugar free green tea, which apparently helps you to burn calories. And I wanted to take a glass of apples vinegar, which seems to make you lose weight faster. It's so disgusting actually and my stomach and my throat sore so much when I have it, but hey, I let this happen to my body and I'm gonna pay for it.



Look what the hell I did to my self!
You could use this as a reverse thinspo... I'm so ashamed!!
But this will change.
This has to change.

I'm so disgusted. I wish I was good inside, but I'm clearly not.
I think this will be my most motivating thinspo. I also tried to do an "after preview" with Paint, but I'm a shit at drawing with the computer.

Still, just to remember how far I am from my goal:

I feel so helplessly destroyed inside me that I would cry forever.
But I can't. I can't cry. It has been ages since the last time I did. Sometimes I lose the control and burst into tears without even a specific reason. But now I just can't do it.

I feel...empty...like a forgotten ship's skeleton, abandoned by the beach of a desert island where it never stops raining.

I feel dry.

I feel that I really want to die.

Fixing

Trying hard to speak
And fighting with my weak hand
Driven to distraction
So part of the plan


When something is broken
And you try to fix it
Trying to repair it
Any way you can


I dive in at the deep end
You become my best friend
I wanna love you but I don't know if I can


I know something is broken
and I'm trying to fix it
Trying to repair it anyway I can

I can quite relate to this Coldplay's song.

I can't even remember the feeling of having something fixed or new. Feel like everything in my life has always been broken.

Ended up binging on chocolate and vomiting, even because it was my uncle's birthday and Italians love having big lunches with a lot of fattening food. Tried to stuck on the fish, but I still feel sort of a failure for leaving my diet. So I spent something like 3 days eating and vomiting (not even everything, cause people have been going around home a lot and it has been hard to find the privacy to vomit properly).

Oh and on Friday I've binged cause I got incredibly high.

Had to go to the psychologist, and well I hate going there, but my parents think that as long as I go there I can't kill my self/starve my self/hurt my self etc, and I think it's for the best if they keep believing that I'm a happy nearly 18 years old.

Still can't find the strength to study, which is a problem, because I'll have to do my final exam in 2 months and I should really make a plan for university.

I feel so...no, it's not tired. More like numb, I'd say.

Tomorrow I'm gonna weight my self. I'm fucking scared of that scale. I know I'll be depressed all the day after that, but maybe this will help me keeping to my diet table (300 Cal tomorrow, I started it again).

So well today has gone pretty good:

Breakfast: 2 biscuits (25 cal each) + Sugar free coffee (I don't know how many calories does coffee have when taken without sugar)= a bit more than 50 cal

Snack:packet of crackers=200 cal

Lunch: //

Snack://

Dinner (at 6 pm, so that it didn't stuck in my stomach)= grilled chicken (100 Cal)+60 g of lettuce(<17 Cal)= <117 Cal

Tot: about 370 Cal

It's not great, but not even bad, considering that I had to keep at 400 Cal.

I also went to the gym and burned just running and stuff like that 700 Cal plus all those exercises that I don't know how much made me burn.

Oh and I drank 2.5 litres of water.

I wish so much that this was enough...

(Not) Going On

You know, it's not a matter of weight. I mean it is also a matter of weight. But it's not "to look cool". Nor to wear nice dresses. Nor to be beautiful. I have been thin, and I wasn't beautiful. God, no.
It's about...not feeling such a shame. So inappropriate. So wrong, always.
I hate opening my mouth. It's just crap getting in and crap getting out.
I hate walking. I feel as if I occupe too much space. I know I occupe too much space around me. I hate being my self, feeling my body. I hate thinking my thoughts. They're dirty, wrong and stupid, just like me.
There's been a time when I thought I was smart. And people used to think that too. Some of them maybe still think that. You know, it's pretty hard trying to forget about your body, desperately hiding into your head, and realizing there isn't enough room there either. Another mistake. Another disappointment. Being stupid is sad. Really. A lot of intelligent people wish they were stupid. They say that intelligence is heavy. That smart people are hardly ever happy. Well, as a stupid I can tell you that being stupid is not easy either. Plus you'll leave with the fear that everybody will find out how irremediably stupid you are and that a smart one will get everything from you. Plus life pretty sucks when you are stupid. You look around, you see things, but cannot link them together. You try, you try so hard to put stuff together, to connect the dots, but they just lay there, so incredibly far from each other, forgotten by everyone and everything else.

I'm tired of living out of the world.
And yeah, being the fat one, the one that is never appropriate, never right, never fine, never pleasant, never enjoyable, never funny, never pretty, never anything good, doesn't help.
I don't want to be a freak anymore.
I don't I don't I don't.
I wish so much I were good at something, but I'm not.
I wish so much I was able to kill my self. But doesn't matter how apparently ardently I want it.
I keep stopping.

I wish so much I could go on.

I'm about to go to sleep, which is good cause it means that my day of fasting has gone on perfectly.
I'm quite happy with that, actually. Even if I haven't been hungry at all. Just a bit when I woke up and at lunch time, but I got easily distracted and now if I only think about food I feel terribly sick.
Thought about doing another day of fasting but too afraid that my already too low metabolism will slow down even more.
I do have a headache, but it has increased just in the last hour.
So well first day of diet has gone great!
So why do I feel so numb?
So empty?

Forgot to take the pics of the current situation and to weight me.  I'm not particularly happy of doing it, but I think it's gonna be a good motivation seeing how fucking fat and disgusting I am so to resist to occasional binges, so I'll do it as first thing tomorrow morning.
Today I haven't done any exercise. Yeah I'm a freaking lazy coach potato, I'm perfectly aware of that. Dunno how the time has passed today. It just did. As usual. And I usual I haven't realized it had passed until the clock told me it was 11 p.m.

I...I can't really make a complete talk right now. Sentences hardly begin in my mind and find themselves sheared. Like thousands of never born children.

I...I think I miss my boyfriend, H. We've never really been together, so it's kind of weird saying that I'm missing him, but I really feel I do. Sometimes I wish so much he was here, just to be held in those arms of him. But then I think that all this fat will make him even sicker than me and thank God that we're 20 000 km far away. Some other times I feel I'm really about to leave him. He's gorgeous. But I don't feel "enough" for him. I don't deserve him. And relationships always make me nervous.

Alright, I'm feeling too sick right now.
I'd purge, but I make a lot of horrible noises when vomiting and my parents will surely hear me.

Oh yeah, should have studied hard but haven't done anything, as usual.
I'm basically a failure, as usual.

What's the point in being happy for one day of starving when I'm so outrageously fat and insignificant?

Tactic Dispositions

The first shocking text I had to translate from latin to italian was called "tactit dispositions". Since then (but maybe even before) I've always had the feeling that making plans was something incredibly difficult. Or better, what it's difficult of making plans is making a good plan, which should mean a plan that is going to work. One of my great problems it's that I don't have balance. Not at all. I do know that nothing is never completely black or completely white, but my nevrotical attitude carries me to make always the same mistake, and so here I am making huge fasting plans, huge studying plans, huge relationship plans, huge plans on my career, on my life, on my destiny etc etc etc
That doesn't surely help me building a kind of self confidence, well the confidence someone so damn nasty and useless as I am can have.
But anyway...
Ended up binging today (hehe...I didn't doubt it).
I did try to refuse food, said I woke up late and had breakfast late, said I was feeling sick (I really was, actually) but ehi, a stomach cancer can perfectly wait that you've eaten all the edible of your easter lunch before killing you (that is basically everybody in my family's opinion). And because I'm incredibly weak, I shut up and kept eating.
I feel so miserable.
So damn ashamed of myself.
But I don't wanna cry. I couldn't, anyway. I'm not good at crying. I usually just do it when I have a panic attack and completely lose the control of myself.
I don't wanna purge, putting the fingers down my throat. I have vomited a bit, but it was my stomach expelling that crap itself, I didn't do anything to stimulate him. But I know that's no good. Kills your metabolism, your throat, your teeth and makes me feel so damn pathetic.
I gotta stay positive, cause I do have a plan for these months and I know that if i put my self down before starting I'll never make it.
But I HAVE TO make it. I need to.


So well, tomorrow I give a party at my house. I'll try not to eat much (I don't particularly like junk food anyway) so unless I have a binge attack I should do it alright. But I don't wanna think too much about it, cause it's a party, last day before great adventure starts, so I'll try to eat just a little but don't wanna worry too much about alcohol.
I doubt I'll have a lot of it, anyway, cause I've got quite a lot of hashish, and I don't like getting completely wasted by mixing the two things. And well I usually don't have those hunger attacks after smoking hashish or weed, so I should do it alright.


Then my plan starts.
First of all, I must stay fit. So well I already go to school by bike everyday, but I will try to get there earlier, so I can walk a bit up and down the street, waiting for the bell to ring.
Then I must go to the gym at least 5 days each week.
I must remember to eat a lot of very very very little meals. Like opening a pack of crackers and eat one per hour. So well I'll eat often, speeding (hopefully) my fucking metabolism and get only 100 Kcal in like 6 hours. This is gonna help me a lot when I'll start the ABC diet.
So my diet plan for the future is...
10/04: fasting- drinking drinking drinking drinking nice cool water and iced cubes all the time


and then from the 11 I'd start with this diet I've found surfing in the net, going through loads of pro ana or ednos blogs:

which seems to be a good way to get used to the restriction of the ABC's diet. It should be good, considering that at the gym I always do 1 hour of cardio, burning usually at least 600 Kcal and then I do several excercise, so well my actual intake will be max of 100 Kcal.
I dunno if that's enough.
But on the other hand I'm afraid that a fasting will kill again my metabolism.
But, after all, it's just MY fault if I have to end up recurring to this. I could have started so much before and done things more easily and risking less. But it's not something I do just for myself.
Most for it, yeah. 'Cause I'm freaking tired of being the fat one. The one that everybody looks with pity, the one who never gets into the nice outfits, the one who always need to be assured that she's not fat. lieslieslieslieslieslies.
I'm tired of lies. I'm tired of living in this body I don't feel mine. In this nasty, disgusting body. I feel dirty. So much dirty. And even if I know it's not just my fault I can forgive my self for letting certain things happen...but that's another story.
Now I really want to make things finally work. And I want to feel beautiful in his arms, when I'll finally see him, after all this time. I don't want to be ashamed of my guilty body.


Sooooo don't really want to get boring now. Lost the sence of what I've written and I'm, as usual, too lazy to check if I made any mistakes in that.


Stay strong, always.


NS

Oh, seriously, who am I trying to kid?
Talking about changes that just make life better... talking about having the strenght to really make these changes...talking about having goals, so feeling to have a purpose... talking about future.
Bullshit.



All a huge, enormous, whopping, gross cluster of bullshit!



I'm no way good enough to even stop taking those fucking cereals. How the fuck am I supposed to do great changes in my life???
And then, if you really wanna know, I'm not even sure it will be worth it.
I did try to change things in my life. So many freakin times. But things always seemed to get worse.
I'm tired of this.
So very tired.
I wish I could just sleep all day.
I wish I could lay down, under my blanket, close my eyes and let it end there.

And today is also Easter, so I'll have to go through a giant lunch with all my fucking relatives, who I hate and I'm tired of being mocked by. I hate these family things. I'm always the clown of the situation. And I'm tired of being a clown. Of being a freak of nature you can get fun of and then leave alone cause it's not interesting anymore. If that's what I am, I don't wanna be myself anymore. I'd rather die.

I hope that beyond this fat I'll be able to destroy also all those other weaks of me I can't really stand anymore. I know that somewhere, in the deep of myself, I am a strong person. So I'm extra pissed off when people think I'm just an apathetic, inopportune, mediocre, whining fat fat fat girl.

Hope they'll regret. I'm not sure, though. I mean, I did lose weight once. Went from 140 lbs to 89. Yeah that was a big achievement. But the only thing I can remember of it was feeling hopeless, awful, chronically depressed and tired, so very tired. I didn't take any pictures at the time, because i thought I was too disgustingly fat. I remember the cold. Didn't matter how many clothes I put on, I was always feeling so terribly cold. And I remember my parents crying. Damn them! But in a few months I'll be hopefully going to uni, far from home, so they won't be there to piss me off. And about the depression etc, well, I have gained all the lost weight...but I don't feel better. Not one bit.
I still don't have friends. I'm still the second choise. I'm still a failure.



Once, on a thinspo pic, I read " I have to choose between being fat and miserable or being skinny and really miserable. It's hard to pick".

Yeah, it is.

Something's gotta change

Yay. Something's gotta change. Now. Immediately. Something is gotta change and this change doesn't have to be just a mental status, the aborted action of a temporary idea. It has to be forever. It has to be a change of prospective. And blahblahblah
Seriously, how many times have I thought about something like that?
How many times do people think about changing stuff that will always be the same anyway?
I don't know what keeps people from changing their life. I don't think it's just a matter of being or not being lazy and being confortable with what's wrong with their life and keep complaining about it.
Routine is conforting some how. It is a kind of safe dimension. And even those nasty and sick routines are a way to preserve our selves. But there must be something else that doesn't let people change it so easily... Addiction? Could be... Cause I have really no reason, no excuses, to keep behaving like a cow, a dumb one too.
Yeah I definitely gotta change something if I want my life to change. And I want to try. Cause things can't go on like this anymore. I can't allow them to.
Gotta take control of my life. Put some damn rules in it, for god's sake.


I gotta refuse
I gotta resist
I gotta restrict


It's not just about food. Not anymore. It's about life. It's about recognizing that you gotta lose something to gain another. Is a matter of balance, of merit. It's a matter of justice.