my365daysofwriting-blog

[my365daysofwriting-blog]

Alright fam I'm drinking with the plan to smoke. Let's see if we end up here later tonight.

[my365daysofwriting-blog]

Sometimes I google shit hoping I'll read something that i identify with. Someone else who is sharing my struggles or feelings. Most of the time I don't find anything. So right now, I'll write them down here. This time it's about food. I hate food. I do. I don't understand it. It makes me uncomfortable. I can't stop thinking about it. And don't get me wrong. I love food. And there's the problem. I love it and hate it so dearly. I love the taste, the feel in my mouth, the smell, the way it makes me feel. I love to cook and make something good. I love to try new foods and look for new recipes. But I hate eating. I can't figure out what I am supposed to eat. I know I need to lose weight so badly, but I just can't diet. Because food consumes my every thought. Literally. Every single thought.

[my365daysofwriting-blog]

10.20.17

Imma write here because I keep telling myself I should keep some sort of journal so I know what my state of mind was at certain times. So I can track it. It's a good idea, but I just keep not doing it. I probably won't remember except on nights like this when I'm alone and rambly, but that's what you get. It's an imperfect dataset. I'm a kinda high. Idk if that should be a disclaimer or something. But I feel like I should mention it. I'm disappointed in myself right now. I'm gonna keep this brief so I don't bring my numb mood down to shit. School is shitty. Failed my first 10% of my 171 grade. Haven't started assignment due l. Weds. I have job interviews but don't think I'll get a single one of them. I hope impact will just hire me at the end of it all. At least then I won't be an unemployable loser. I'm supposed to be at a party right now. But I got weirded out and feel like no one wants to see me. Or like they're neutral about it but then when I interact with people I mix my words and then feel stupid and they feel weird. So I'm just getting high on the couch. I would drink too if we had anything other than spiced rum. I'm a little concerned about my drinking. I drank a fifth in 4 days. That's more than I've ever drank before. And even right now I just want to walk to Safeway and get more booze & soda. Like is it gonna be a problem? Is it getting worse? Is it already a problem? I'm at my highest weight. Ever. And I literally crave bad shit. Sweet drinks and salty fatty shit. I'm so embarrassed by my body. That's another reason I don't want to go to the party. And I feel bad about my dad. Like I know he's unhappy. And he's always been unhappy. But he's 55. And I always thought that this was going to end soon. That I would be happy in the next few years, once I figured my shit out. And it makes me feel like I'm going to be depressed forever. And that sucks. I want to be happy. I want to be fulfilled. I want to love living every day. To think that that's unattainable is a weight on my shoulders. What's the point if we're just dragging our feet through life. I want to run through the forest and roll in the grass. I want to reach peaks and feel life rushing like wind. It's just that this can't be it. It can't just be an eternity of waiting to feel. It's like dancing. People love it. They love it so much they have nights dedicated to it. They do it at parties. They dedicate hours to it at their weddings. And I don't understand. I don't get any joy from wriggling to the beat. I find it odd. I enjoy music. And I understand choreographed dance or ballroom. But just wiggling around near people is unappealing to me. But millions of people seem to love it. I just don't understand. Why do I think everyone hates to be around me? Why do I think that no one wants to talk to me? Why do I think people are embarrassed to be seen near me because I'm fat? Why do I think that I'm so unattractive? Why do I doubt my intelligence and abilities so severely? Why do I make myself so unhappy? Why can't I understand how to eat? Why am I so irresponsible? Why am I so depressed? When will it all end? Why do I feel like I'm just waiting for life to pass. I'm just waiting for time to pass. How long will I be able to hold this together? Will I make it through the year? Can I do it?

[my365daysofwriting-blog]

this can’t be a healthy way of dealing with things

[my365daysofwriting-blog]

at least i don’t feel like shit when i’m high

[my365daysofwriting-blog]

So... I’m high. 

Like nearly ass blasted on the bed.

And I’m not sad when I’m high = in fact I think it does my depression a lot of good. So I ‘m not going to write about how I reel empty or shit like that...because... I don’t have to deal with that when I’m high.

I think i should talk about my feelings from last night though.

Last night we went out to some bars-- and I know that I’m stopping myself from having the fun I want in life.

Why you might ask?

Because I’m not happy with me. /I’m embarrassed by my body and want to hide it at all costs. And I’m the fat one of my friends. And when we’re sitting there, talking, and one of them makes comments about how they’re too big -- it hurts. Clearly I’m not even close to their size. And when they sit there and complain about this I have to shrink into my seat and mile awkwardly -- careful not to engage. Because what can I say? I just wanted to escape. 

One of them brought up my eating disorder in high school again. I didn’t think anyone noticed. But she remembered me drinking green tea for every meal with only a bag of sliced strawberries for the day. 

i remember the moment he confronted me. He pulled me aside and asked if I was feeling ok. I looked tired and ll. I said I was just tired as I put down the 4gh mug of gren tea and picked up 20 g of my 100 g of strawberries for the day. I clutched my ankle which stung from open cuts. 

I’m just embarassed of being in this body; I don’t want to look like this anymore. But I know I have a few problems...and I;m hoping I can do this finallhy. I[’m missing out because I am so self conscious that I want to hide as much as I can. And I swing from wanting to eat something reasonable and wanting to sstarve e. It’s a daily struggle and I end up binging almost all the time. This isn’t sustainable. I have to end this. I just want to be confident enought to still go to mixers and shit. ‘’

Sorry if this is illegible. I’m cross faded and high af. 

Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Fuck.

[my365daysofwriting-blog]

It’s funny. I originally created this blog with the intention of writing every day to improve my skills.

I don’t think that’s what this is about anymore.

I think this is to track me. See how I’m doing. I would say it’s to look back and see how far I’ve come -- and I still hope that is the case one day...but right now it’s just to track how I feel. And not some hippydippy feelings shit. The heaviness. My mental state. I’ve been in a bit of a bad place tonight and I guess I’ve made some realizations about myself.

Lets start from the beginning shall we.

I don’t really remember when it started. But I remember when things were different. I know I’m not supposed to be like this. I’ve had moments of clarity sense then--but an overwhelming amount of time has been...different.

I remember being a quiet kid. I was painfully shy. I don’t remember if I had many friends -- I had a few. But I was afraid. 

I remember in kindergarten when I was terrified by the movie James and the Giant Peach. I pretended to have a headache so the teachers wouldn’t know I was scared. 

In first grade I peed my pants because I was too afraid to ask my teacher to go to the bathroom. Then I tried to cover it up with my backpack and pretend it didn’t happen.

In second grade when I was helping a friend find her earring she lost during recess, I ran off back to the classroom because I was afraid of getting yelled at. I was yelled at anyways.

The next year I remember a teacher making a comment to me about my best friend in the whole wide world -- the girl who lived across the street. He told me she requested to be switched out of my classes because he thought I bragged about being able to do fractions. I never mentioned this to anyone.

Fourth grade is around when I realized that I was the odd man out in my main friend group of three at school. Three is a crowd anyways. It was destined to be one of us. They had more in common anyways and would spend time at each other’s houses -- I was only invited a few times.

By fifth grade I spent more and more time playing my sport -- I was pretty good. This was good -- it gave me something to do in my spare time and let me hang out with other people my same age.

The third day of sixth grade my best friend in the whole wide world -- the girl who lived across the street -- moved away. We kept in touch for a while and saw each other a few times after -- but I stopped being responsive. People only reach out so many times before they stop trying. And for good reason. I know her life went the way it was supposed to and is doing well -- but I still wonder how things would have gone if she had stayed. I think I would have been better off. I miss her terribly and mean to reach out every day but I don’t know if she could forgive me after nearly 6 years of silence. Maybe she’s better off if things stay this way.

Sixth grade also marked a change in my personality. I was open with people. Loud. Sarcastic. Driven. I remember my teacher gave me freedom to do pretty much whatever I wanted and I was often paired up with one of the girls from that group of three girls at school. Things were pretty good -- I was glad to have someone to talk to now that my best friend had moved away. Soccer started picking up this year. I was getting better and had a new coach. Our team was excelling and I was enjoying it more and more.

Seventh grade 

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I’ll be back to finish this later.