i just posted this on my regular xanga. so i thought i might aswell post it here.
so i guess its time for insomnia to strike back.
yeah, its only 10:30, but i can feel it.
sigh. i feel so hideous. and it kills me.
i hate how i can spend hours doing nothing, simply hating myself more and more with each passing moment.
each precious second wasted.
i want to rant, but i cant even do that.
not that anyone cares at all. because i know no one does.
ill let you in on a little secret, i dont give a shit when anyone else rants about their problems. im so fucking self obsessed. ill tell them sorry, cheer up, hope everything gets better, ect., ect. but most of the time i dont mean a fucking word of it. then i just feel bad. and sometimes i start worrying. and then i just get cought up in self pity for how much i worry, and then its all down hill from there.
you can have no idea how much shit i put myself through every single day. put myself through, not how much shit i have to deal with, or am forced to deal with, but put myself through. god damn. day to day im killing myself. and im completely conscious of it. heh, i wanted to. why? i have no fucking idea. i think i just wanted people to notice. and when they did, i denied it, but kept going. i wanted to be a fucking pity case. but nobody likes a pity case do they?
sigh. i wanted everyone to love me because i just couldnt love myself. god damn this reads like such a load of shit. but why should i even care? everything ive said is so vague and meaningless to anyone that its not like it matters what it reads like.
all ive been doing all night is eating. eating and eating and eating. and i hate it. this is what i always did in 7th grade. its called compulsive eating. you feel like shit. you eat. you feel fat and guess what? you feel like shit. its an eating disorder. and i gained 25 pounds.
why the fuck am i writing this? ive been so damn scared to ever tell anyone about anything and here i am ranting on xanga. i guess its because i know that the only people that would still be reading by now are people who actually care. or maybe its because i know im just going to delete this.
so anyway. back to my story? i felt like shit. and i felt fat. so what did i do? i decided to destroy something beautiful. i tasted blood in feb of 7th grade. scars on my wrist and a destroyed upper digestive system. did you know that if you're bent over a toilet long enough purging, you begin to barf up your stomach lining? i have. several times.
8th grade and everythings worse. i have no friends and the ones i do have always abandon me. i hate myself more. december, i get royaly ditched at a bat mitzvah. hah. kicked out of a group that i loathed. i tried calling the one person who i thought i might be able to talk to. apparently she was hating me that night. i tried to drown myself. i failed. i never told anyone.
9th grade. i finally think things are changing. i get close with some great people. everythings awesome. i finally feel like i have friends, real true friends, and the world just brightens up for me. seasons change. i begin cutting again. no fucking idea why. i think i missed it. hobo gloves and cut up socks become my accessory of choice. im confronted several times by the people i have grown to love. but i dont give a shit. i love my scars.
winter and i weigh 147 fucking pounds. thats 3 away from being overweight and everyone sitll lies to me saying i look beautiful and dont try and change yourself. january and im anarexic. dont tell me you're surprised because i dont fucking want to hear it. every fucking one of you has guessed atleast once. sure i deny it. i still do.
may 24th. i want to fucking die. ive always thought i recovered from every single one of the things i listed above. and more. but its always been silent. i have a therapist. not that she does shit. but ive never even told her anything. all she knows about is my insomnia. and my anxiety. so i suffer alone. not because im forced to. i choose to. i know exactly what im doing to myself. and i love it. but to tell you the truth, i hate it. i do it anyway. life goes on.
heh, its funny really. no one even knows what im going through.
IM SUCH A FUCKING DRAMA QUEEN.
comments are open.
tell me how much i suck. how much you hate me.
but dont tell me how "sorry" you are.
dont tell me to cheer up,to feel better, that everything will be fine.
tell me to go out and shoot myself because im such a god damn whore.
thats really what i want to hear. so do it.
im actually going out to comment.
sorry its been so long.
things just havent been great.
and they're just getting worse.
its my birthday on friday, and ive gained 5 pounds.
then im going to the beach.
im going to the beach the first week i start looking like a fatass again.
sigh. anyway.
hope everything has been better for you all.
stay strong!
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