polyester bride

The Blue of my Oblivion
2003-10-26 03:46:48 (UTC)

i'd rather eat

i'm having trouble now trying to figure out how my mind
works. i think i have a pretty good idea, i'm almost sure
now when i'm kidding myself and when i'm being serious. my
mind likes to play tricks on itself, leaving me lingering
far behind, biting my lip and grabbing my arm from behind
my back while awkwardly grinding my knees together and
tapping my toes.

it's been over two months since school started, two
months to give me time to react to people the right way
again, for the first time in a long time without wishing
these people would just go off themselves, simply because i
like the thought of seeing them die, or anyone for that
matter. this is the first year i've thought, hey, maybe i'm
not really that bad.

[but then again...]

the thought haunts me and keeps me up at night, one of
those things my brain likes to do while it floats around in
my head. my ED has gone away for the most part, i've never
really explained it before, i guess i was afraid to admit
it to myself. to say it out loud meant that i thought it
was true, and i wasn't ready to confirm it. so for two
years i obsessed over looking a certain way, being at a
certain weight, feeling a certain thing.

this feeling mixed with general unhappiness equals no
interest in eating and losing enough weight to create a
whole 'nother child. this brings up another confusing
point; i'm either eating all the time, bingeing like a
madwoman and doing it as an olympic sport...or i won't
eat at all, i find anything resembling food completely
repulsive and refuse to consume the tiniest molecule of it.

sometimes i eat even when i'm not hungry, i'll just
shove my face full of food because food is too good for the
dirty oxygen i share with my filthy family members, food
will be much happier in my body, and i'll be happier too.
other times, i despise myself for thinking food would
benifit me, then i get so angry i start eating again. my
eating schedule is this: i'm angry when i eat, and i eat
when i'm angry.

'nuff said.

not many people know about it all, i have trust issues
with EVERYONE. some people do it to mess with me, but they
have no idea that their words have hidden meaning. i have
friends that tease me about my weight, which really is
nothing to laugh about. i'm 91 pounds, but i walk and i
feel weighed down. i stand in my gym shorts, in all my
ghostly white glory, and watch as the beautiful tan swimmer-
girl runs by with her sunbeamed blonde hair bouncing as she
hops with tight skinned sunbathed legs. then i look down
and see my own powdered sugar colored legs, flabbing as i
jog in circles around the basketball court. i just feel
short and fat.

there's nothing sadder than the truly sad than to see
someone who isn't fat complain about it, but i can't help
but feel like i'm in a funhouse where all the mirrors make
me look like i've never left a couch in my entire life,
which is really practical because i do spend most of my
time cacooned up in an afghan on the musty couch watching
the food channel....GASP....and disney channel (hey, i love
my good wholesome family tv) and anything else that catches
my eye. i don't go anywhere. some days the only time i get
up is to go to the bathroom or to get more food, though
usually i have an ornate setup of the most unhealthy snacks
i can muster stacked around me.

so why not work out, stupid??!!

i'm too lazy.

i'd rather sleep.

i'd rather eat.

i'm teased by my best friends, and i know they're joking,
but i always quiet down when they shout, "here comes the
fat", and knowing things could be worse doesn't help, it
makes me sink down into my chair and try to think about
something else.

last night i checked out the new haunted house in town,
i've heard from everyone it was awesome so i went with two
friends and it wasn't too shabby, once i opened my eyes. i
spent the majority of the trip with my nose burried in
marget's back, with sky gripping my jacket and my waste,
and constantly stepping on the hem of my pants (hey i know
they're baggy and it's dark in there but c'mon). it was all
in all pretty good, i don't think i've ever screamed so
girly in my entire life.

but what really bothered me, after we got out, marget
used my phone to call for a ride and we waited across the
street in the grass. sky grabbed my wallet out of my jacket
pocket and started going through it, i have officially the
randomest things in my wallet so i started to explain the
meaning behind each item when he snatched it out of my
hand. i tried to grab it back but he kept moving so pretty
much we were rolling around in the grass, me keeping in
mind i have a boyfriend i love to the fullest extent, i
wouldn't play his game and commanded that he give it back.
i ended up pinned to the ground and laughed at. he called
me chubby, and he refused to forget the new nickname for
the rest of the night. he kept joking about my fat, which
made him giggle A LOT but made me sigh and look at my
shuffling feet scratching on the cold cement.

alex tells me all the time that he's fat, and i
have to look at him like he's crazy. he's honestly the
greatest guy i've ever met. his sense of humor is, well,
8th grade, but what can i do? i wouldn't change a thing
about him, you shouldn't try to fix something that isn't
broken. he's mr. soccer. soccer is his entire life, and he
won't let me forget it.

we're still goofy kids, so we don't get to go out much,
and on top of that his soccer schedule keeps him busy...
almost every weekend...so we don't get much time to
ourselves, but when we finally get some alone time, we
might as well be a million miles apart.it's like by the
time we get together, we're both just lazy. then he sends
me emails and starts conversations that he thinks he's
stupid for not doing anything about it which is
discouraging because i know he is so much smarter than me.
i bow down to his brilliance! his genius! whenever he talks
about being stupid, it makes me feel like i'm no smarter
than a brick.

these thoughts come in plethoras, groups that stand in
line for the ride of my life.

last week we worked on sculptures in my art class. we're
working with plaster, so our dusty blue tarps are always
covered in white shavings and chunks by the time we have to
start cleaning. i'm the kid in all black so who do you
think they choose to throw the white powder at? :( me.

craig was just joking and so was i. he got on all fours
and crawled towards me, both of his hands full of the
shavings. i backed away, kicking jokingly into the air as
to back him off me. he reared forward in half a second and
my slow reflexes were unprepared. i kicked him in the
head. i must've kicked him A LOT harder than i thought
because now he looks like harry potter with a huge scar
across his forehead. we've never been the best of friends,
and now his insults and impressions are plentiful at the
lunch table. he's even got my friends, the ones i've known
since i was four, going along with the skit and doing their
own versions of the impressions.

that class makes me so angry, i can never leave it in a
good mood. the teacher talked about how he puts on a mask
to makes it look like he's happy, yadda yadda. he is a
scared little man, always afraid he's being judged by a
group of stupid teenagers, and no mask will hide that. I AM
SICK of adults, just because they were my age once,
thinking they know what's inside my head! they have no
idea! does he think we don't put on masks? he doesn't
understand the things that race through our minds every
minute of every hour of every day, and i don't understand
his. honestly, i couldn't care any less than i do now, and
i know he couldn't care less about me, but jesus christ.
some people should just be shot in the head. the class also
includes my ex boyfriend, who i always feel like hugging
and hanging all over, just like the old days. and then i
remember. i feel like such an idiot thinking about him.
he's old news. it's been over forever. he's just my friend.

just

my

friend.

i've made a new discovery. i get jealous. oh boy, and do
i get jealous. the only reason i've thought about liking
him was because i was jealous! you always like what you
can't have, right? jealousy, that was all it was. thank
god. or really, thank god? is that good? i guess it's a
good enough excuse for me, and i'll accept it. i'm too
tired to think of a better one. that's all over now,
everyone has moved on, and i'm in a better place now.

now my eyes are slowly drooping shut, i'm lazily
feeling around for the keys, trying to remember where each
one is. it was a sleepless night last night, i had to sleep
on a leather recliner, which would not stay out, so my
muscles are sore and my head is drowning in the liquid
agony of dizziness and dreamy paradise. it's time for me to
leave, and get my beauty sleep, lord knows i need it.

parting is such sweet sorrow.




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