Exhausted.

I really cannot wait to get back to school so I can restrict again. I'm tired of having to eat the way she wants me to. I'm getting fat as shit.
I'm also incredibly cranky. All of my friends were drinking last night, and I know for a fact that a few of them drove. W was one of them. He also happpened to be driving around with this one girl who I don't care for, and she automatically becomes a slut when she's drunk. So, I was worried that a) W was eother going to get in some horrible wreck, or getting a DUI or b)hooking up with Drunken Slut. In my heart I knew he wouldn't do anything with her, because I really think that he's better than that. Or at least, I'd like to think that. I couldn't sleep. He called me at about to wish me a happy New Year. I told him it was the New Year yet. I went to bed after that. Halfway Relieved.

A Night In The Life.

Tonight was a mixture between absolutely horrible and absolutely amazing. We started out by getting sushi, where I had a small binge. I wolfed down six California rolls, and four salad rolls (just over five hundred). I was so embarrassed. We smoked hookah after, which burns calories 200 for about an hour. Thank god. It was freezing cold, even under a blanket. W and I shared it and were more or less one body for about an hour. He'd do everything to try and keep me warm; he's so so sweet. After we went to another friends to get in his hot tub. I hadnt shaved in a while. And I'm also fat as hell. W said I looked beautiful and told me I shouldnt be embarrassed.
I didnt break 1000 today.
I'm hungry; It's wonderful.
Love you always,
Margie.

Blog Title Change.

Her Lovely Bones. My friend opened my laptop to it today, and she read the name, and asked me about it. She didn't see the url. So I had to change it, in case she got curious.

Broke.

Thank you, holidays, birthdays and various and sundry money-sucking events for emptying my already half-empty wallet. The best part- I still have three birthdays left to get gifts for. And to eat cake for. Dammit, why do we even celebrate birthdays?!

Baby, You Wouldn't Last A Minute.

Last night, I had a friend complain about being fat. She pinched the gooey deposit on my hip, and said, "God, how do you do that? How are you so little?" I wanted to hit her, I wanted to scream, but I just laughed awkwardly, and said, "It's just stress."
I'm scared that I'm not going to be able to start restricting once I get back to school. I'm scared that I'm going to always be this way, that I'm always going be fat.

Almost Over

2009 is almost over, and I'm still fat as fuck.

I look disgusting, and I feel disgusting.

One Hundred.

It's my one hundreth post. Damn.
Anyways. I had a really shitty eating day today. Yesterday was better, suprisingly.
I somehow managed to restrict all day yesterday, due to my mother's ditraction for the majority of the day. My friends and I had a Christmukkah party. We all got together and had a lovely time and no one commented on my eating, or lack there of. It was so nice to feel someone's arms pressed into your ribs, his hand over your protruding vertabrae in the small of you back. I know it's too early to tell, but I think I might have found something good. Hopefully, maybe, might have found something good.
Not much else to write about.
Love you always,
Margie.

Meatloaf,

meatloaf, double beetloaf,

I HATE meatloaf.

The most thinspo you'll get out of that movie.

Anise- I took your advice. Christmas movies help. Especially A Christmas Story.

I'm snuggled up in my giant blanketin my giant sweater, with new, nice, classical music, NPR loving boy on the phone, with one small christmas crabcake in my belly, watching A Christmas Story for a second time today.

Aside from the terrible Christmas eve Tradition of chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast (mother made me eat three, a horible 768 calorie breakfast), it's been a decent day. I managed to stay under 1000 calories today, still bad, but better than I've been doing lately. I'm hungry, and I love it. I managed to skip lunch, andI had a crab cake for dinner, 160 calories.

I have an Odwalla Carrot Juice waiting for me in the fridge for breakfast, 140 calories for 15 oz. Restricting during Christmas lunch and then, hopefully, watching Elf with W. I need to get out of the house.

Merry, merry.

Love you always,

Margie.

...

There are somedays I think I'm going crazy cause I hear him so much. He keeps telling me how I'm shit, how it will never work out. I saw a picture of him today and it tore right through me like his bass last night. He had that look, the one he used to give me when he didn't yell, but he used that low voice that he uses in my head, the one that scares me so badly. The caption on the picture was, like the devil has your hand. I don't know what to do or who to believe.

Happy.

Last night, I went to one of my absolute favorite places. It's just a little old bar that has lately become inhabited with a disgusting amount of thirteen year old scene kids, but I love it almost more than any other place in the world. My best friend drums for this really kind of awful generic pop punk band, and they had a show last night that was really great. I went aprehensively last night, because I knew I'd see the one guy who probably still knows how to rip me right down to the core and smash what's left to pieces, and even just seeing him is hard. He plays bass for the same band. I had my first drink since may when I decided to stop drinking. I'm not very proud of that. Anyways, The first bits of the show were really upsetting for me, I kept thinking to myself, god he looks so good and happy, too. He was just up there playing his bass like he used to when I still existed. He'd look at me occasionally, expressionless, or frowning,and everytime was like he was trying to suck my soul out.
We left after that set, a group of seven I think, to go smoke at the hookah bar downtown by the university. I rode with W, a guy I met a few nights before at my other friends party. We sat next to each other at the bar, which is outside. It was freezing. He gave me his jacket, and then went to the car to get my jacket. I didn't have to ask. Everyone except for me, W, and this other guy, C, left to go to some party. The three of us went to McDonalds. W bought me a Diet Coke, after insisting on getting me something and insisting that I don't need to be drinking diet. We sat in there for a long time, until C had to leave. W asked me if I'd like to see a movie with him, and I said yes, so I guess I have a date today. We just rode around for a really long time after that, and we talked. We both love Classical and Folk music and NPR and Bob Dylan. He says he'd go gay for Sting, and I realized that I know exactly who Sting is and what he looks like and all, but I have no clue what his music sounds like. He said he'll bring a CD for me. He walked me to the door when he dropped me off, which hasn't happened to me before I don't think. He gave me a peck on the cheek goodnight and left. I've had this little slight smile on my face since. And I think I'll be happy for a while.
Love you all,
Margie.

Finished.

So, I'm at home, finally finished with everything. As nice as that is, it's also awful. I'm becoming a hermit, who's also being force-fed by her mother. She has to watch me eat, and I have to eat it all. And dammit, I'm getting fat. I'm up at about one hundred pounds. During exams, I ate like a fat ass, all while promising myself to start restricting as soon as they were over. But, I didn't know that this was going to happen. I don't know what to do. I'm lost and getting huge.
Fuck.

STRESS

I'm taking a quick break to update, because I haven't done so in a few days. Don't you just love the way teachers like to wait to give you ALL of your work at the end of the semestre instead of giving it to you in incrimints? I know I sure do! Anyways, I'm giving myself a fifteen minute break from writing my ten page minimum midterm essay for english. I am about ready to pass out asleep. I'm exhuasted. Damn fucking paper.
I'm looking at my roomates thighs. They remind me a little of cellulite-covered hams.
Gross.

Take A Deep Breath, Darling.

Phone rings.
Hey, Margaret. About Messiah, I want to ask you a favour. Do you think you could learn the Rejoice Greatly air? Yeah, I'd really appreciate it. I think you can do it. No, Kelly can't do it. Yeah, she can't hold that a. That'd be great. Thanks.
Hang up.
shit.
You just had to ask me to do one of the hardest airs in the whole damn symphony. Guess who's going to blow it?
ME!




Yep, that's it. FUN.

This Has Been A Shit Week.

Well except for tuesday (excluding tuesday night). Went to the doctor- ninety fucking eight pounds. God damn. Fought with my parents about grades, got called lots of names, got told everything that was wrong with me. Christ. I hate being home.

Damn.

I'm sick. Home sick. As in mother is feeding me. I've been slipping a lot of it to my dog.
I want cabbage. Nice, boiled cabbage. Maybe some carrots. And fat free Italian dressing.
Some one tell me how to avoid food.

Four Day Fast.

I am fasting until December fourth. This morning I had an epiphany that I should have had a long time ago. Every time I feel an urge to eat, I will work.
Workworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkworkdonteatworkworkworkworkwork.
If I actually stick to it (I better fucking stick to it) I should be really ahead on everything.
Want lunch, Margie? Do your fucking math homework.
Want a snack? Start your midterm paper.
Want dinner? Get in that studio and buffbuffbuffbuff.
Want another snack? Take your goddamn adderal and work on that paper.

I'm also trying to find some effective diet pills. Any suggestions?

Love you always,
Margie.