Caustic

Why do I sit there and allow myself to be treated this way. When they need help, I give it. Even when I don't want to, I give them the help that they want.
But give somebody one chance and they throw it back in you face. Even though I know better, I let myself think that they won't. I know a lot better now.
Despite the fact that this sounds far too much like a passive-aggressive Facebook post, I need to let this out.
I'm not, however, doing this as catharsis. This is to make sure that I don't give in. I don't need food, and I don't need people.
I need to be famous.
One day I'll be so far removed from this that it will seen like a far off dream.
So unfair, but I'll be better. I won't be cold, I'll be acidic. When next somebody tries me, I will burn them, just as they burn me.
That is a promise.

Broken

Sometimes I think that something must be broken. Some part of my brain that is responsible for controlling myself, perhaps.
It seems like I have to fight just to keep myself in any state for to long. I learn so many things in my psychology class, but none of it has helped me so far.
Maybe my only shortcoming is in my desire to be sick.
Maybe that's a lie.
The most all consuming thing that that I've ever had to deal with is my need to be a part of something. It is a shapeless force that slams into me from every angle. My best defense is my words.
No matter how bad it gets, I have a way out. I don't know if they'll work anymore, but that doesn't mean I can't hope.
I can hope for romance, or inspiration. I can hope for anything, but I have the strangest feeling that it won't matter in the end. The only thing that would help me is oblivion.
I don't think that I can cope with all this stress. I'm just a stupid, needy kid that got dragged into this blaring nonsense that is called life.
I think that I just want attention. I don't know if I would be happier if people were reading this, or if I knew that nobody could get to this.
Whatever, it doesn't even matter; I sound like the biggest whiner in the world anyways.
Thanks for reading.

The Truth

The truth is: Nothing happens as easily as it does in writing. I've never had the wonderful feeling of letting myself go into the night, black and unending. I'll never know what it's like.
I crave and want, but nothing changes. I've always been able to write, but that has never been able to translate itself into real life.
I know that what I have is good, but I want better. I deserve better.
The funniest part about saying that you deserve something, however, is that by saying it you make it a lie.
I should be able to differentiate between reality and fantasy, but I remain where I am. A stalwart reminder of my inescapable body.
I want the fantasy of snow and ice. Bundling up and waiting out a storm. And when it ends I can meet all of my beautiful, classy friends, and we'll all talk about the latest faux pas in the society pages. I know that it's within my reach. I can make myself into a character from a book, tragic and beautiful. If only I could stop dragging myself down into the real world.
I will stop and be filled by the icy wind that I crave.
I won't freeze, I'll flourish.
I swear.

Sometimes...

Sometimes I get so overwhelmed by it all.
I need help.

Clearing Some Misconceptions

Okay, I really feel like people are getting the wrong idea about my (semi)dysfunctional family.
My aunt isn't some crazy food Nazi who runs around and calls me fat, she's just super high strung and she doesn't really know how sensitive I am about certain thing.
My cousin? The two of us are actually really close, but when we fight, it really gets to me. That's why you always get bad vibes from what I post, it's normal for the two of us to be cool, but when we fight, it becomes an issue.
Changing the subject, I noticed the other day that I could see a rolls when I sat down. I was so mad! I was like, "What the f**k?"
I have absolutely no idea when that started happening. So I had to get rid of that super fast. No food so far, and I want to stay like that for at least the rest of the day. We all know how that ends though.
And sweet baby Jesus, there is the most gorgeous boy in my French class. He has the most adorable Spanish accent. He says something to me and I'm can't even focus.
Typical Conversation:
Him, "Do you have a pencil?"
Me, "EIYHVHSJAOCNZMCHFIW!"
It's so embarrassing. As usual, however, he doesn't even know I exist. But, mark my words, he will. Is it creepy? I don't care! He's too cute for me to care.
Anyways, I'm going to try to get to Friday without going over 1000. 3 more days, I got this (no I don't).
Crazy happy,
Minty.

I Knew It.

I knew that I was less important. I always knew it.
My cousin doesn't eat for 3/4 of a day? That's a concern.
I don't eat for almost 2 days, and when I do, I'm on the verge of tears? Not an issue.
Why do I always let myself do this? Why do I let myself think that I'm worth something. I didn't eat for all of yesterday, but then I cave and eat the burrito that my aunt gets me. Then I eat more at my cousin's insistence. When my aunt comes downstairs and sees she tells me that know she knows why the food is always gone.
I'm sorry.
Believe me when I say this: It won't happen again.

A Note On The Absence

Here's the deal: I feel so ashamed to post here. I don't have any self-control, and it makes me feel undeserving of all the attention and help that I get from this lovely blog.
God, it's so sad. I know that I'm a fat little monster, and I also know that, after this, I going to head downstairs and stuff my fat little face.
Ugh, go die in a hole, right? But that's not even the worst part. I know that I'll do it again and again until I'm so fat that I can't use regular people toilets anymore. Spoiler Alert: I really like regular people toilets. You guys, I need all the help I can get.
If you can, please comment on this. I need motivation, and that will be just the thing to stop me from gorging my stupid face.
Desperate,
Minty

Guess What...

I came out today. So, my family knows that I'm gay. I guess that I got super lucky in the family lottery. Everyone was super supportive, and junk.
I don't have anything to say besides that. I'm still a fat excuse for a person. I use up food like a small suburb uses speed bumps. I will stop eating.
That is all.

Empty On The Inside (And Not In The Good Way)

For all the people who read this (nobody) I just wanted to reassure you that the nonexistent posting lately is due to me having no laptop. I've been meaning to update with my phone, but I am so absorbed in my own issues right now.
One of those issues is my problems with myself. I hate, and I mean hate, how I act. I'm so loud and I take up so much space! I hate myself. I can't even stop eating long enough to try and deal with that.
I hate dragging people into my problems, but I started this blog and so help me I will see it through.
I debated taking a handful of Nyquil, just to see if anybody would notice. I didn't even have the guts. What a punk, right?
Here's to no calories tomorrow!

Intro!!!!!!

Okay, so first post. Here we go. I'm so ready to do this.

Nevermind, I'm so not ready for this. I have no idea what to say. I mean, what constitutes a good first post? I guess that I'll start with the stats because that seems to be the only thing that remains constant on these kind of blogs.

Height: 5'11/1.524

Weight: Now this is going to sound crazy, but I have no idea. I know what you're going to say, and yes, I do know that I am possibly the only person with a pro-ana (I don't think that's the right word for this) blog and no scale. Last I checked though, I was 160/72.5748. Gross. That is the weight of a sumo wrestler who had to leave the professional circuit due to obesity related health concerns.

BMI: 22.3.

Now, other than stats, I have nothing else for my introduction. Wait, I totally forgot: Goals!

I have 3 very important goals.

1. 155/68.0389
2. 145/65.7709
3. 136/61.6886 (UGW!)

These all sound achievable, right?

Now that you all know the basics, I'm free to get on with my griping about calories. Today I went to the beach with my family, like I've done for the past 2 days.

I.

Love.

The.

Beach.

It goes deeper than the water or sunshine (both of them awesome) and makes me feel good somewhere deep inside. About cellulite deep. It's so cool how you can go to the beach and spend all day running around and swimming and never feel like it's exercise. I had planned to eat nothing at all, but my cousin had a few peppers with her Mexican food. I remembered reading somewhere that peppers were good for the metabolism, so down the hatch it went. Something that I didn't exactly count on for some reason, was that peppers were made by Satan himself. I spent 5 minutes doing my best dragon impersonation before I caved and had a bite of carne asada fries to cool down the inferno in my mouth. That didn't work, so I shoved a chip in there.

I wasn't exactly sure of how many calories that was, so I rounded the whole thing up to about 70 for the day, including my three mints. I feel good right now.

In an effort to make my readers feel included, I've decided to include a little question in this post. Do you think that you round calories up or down? When in doubt, I always bring my calories up by a bit. Please, I really do want to hear from you.

 

 



Shouting Matches

I might end up getting to a proper first entry later, but right now isn't the best time. My cousin just blew up at me and I don't even know how to feel about it. She's been trying to ring the anorexia bell lately and I'm like, "Eww, shut up. I'm not even anorectic." And the worst part is that I'm not even lying when I say that. An anorectic is all slim lines and grace. I'm pretty sure that the only slim line on me is my eyes when I narrow them at some food.
It escalated into her logging into my Blogger account and reading a post from Fat Piggy (love you!) and then shouting me down.
I was mad. Like, spitting mad. I followed her downstairs and she said that the people who write the blogs are stupid. That obviously didn't help my temper, so I told her off. Don't be coming at my virtual friends all crazy, you will get shut down!
Now I don't even know what to do. I want to binge because of how sad I am, but on the other (more attractive) hand I just want to lose even more weight. Not as a spite thing, Lord knows I spite her enough, but as a defense mechanism.
It's like how you don't hit people with glasses, but instead of hitting it's shouting, and instead of glasses it's prominent ribcages.
She doesn't even know how down this made me feel. I don't think that people really know how sensitive I am, but I am the biggest crybaby. I hate people saying mean things to me. It's so ingrained that I don't even like to cuss. I censor myself! What kind of monster would yell at somebody who bleeps out their own f-bombs?
Sorry about the rant, I know that it wasn't what you were expecting in a first post. I'll probably have a more traditional first post tomorrow. Maybe it was better this way. Now you know how crazy it gets when you go too far into the rabbit-hole.

Desolate,

Minty

EDIT: 380 calories later, it looks like things went the way of a binge.