getting better means giving up

it’s been a while since we conversed
I hope you’ll forget about me
the way I remember you.
I’ve been alone so long now
and I’m growing tired of the companionship.
You always used to keep my head full,
to hold my hand,
to promise.
Now I know better than to want more for less.
But it’s been so long
and I’m getting lonely.
Is return unavoidable
or a most impossible
and disastrous consequence?
The guilt is covering me again,
the space between everything seems more serious.
I wish I was against the wall,
in a bed,
on the floor,
anywhere my thoughts can’t get.
No one ever promises or cares
at least you were committed
and I know it’s quite insane
but I miss you
the way I mis the feel of summer

again

gloom is lingering again
seeping through where the door meets the frame.
I’ve been sleeping since last summer.
Consciousness is too heavy for me.
Remember how I hate the cold
on my hands, my eyes, my thoughts.
Something can shut it off
give me that good news at least.
Memories don’t count anymore.
I’m not failing to forget-
I just forget to try.
I’m too picky to be desperate
too picky every time.
But there’s meaning in between
so send something in my direction
the smell of that insecurity,
but no one’s biting either way.

it had been almost two months if i remember correctly. a little less, i think. the irony. the circular logic. i escaped reality to avoid the thing i used to escape reality. i'd consider it poetic if i was still hung up on that kinda thing.

and i could almost tell it was going to happen earlier today when i said i'd briefly considered doing it again before deciding it was a bad idea. and i could almost tell i was going to do it soon when i argued that people shouldn't love me because ive made myself throw up at least ten times. and it sounds so stupid when you put it like that. relinquish control (almost) then regain it. and it's wonderful and horrible and all sorts of other stupid dualities. this is the part where i stop trying to make the words sound pretty to hide the ugly of the situation.

i'm really too self-aware for my own good. but that's what i was always jealous of. and i can't help (lie, i probably could) that i'd rather feel like a disturbed, self-destructive fuck-up than a girl who used to and could again be fat. and i'd rather clutch at the strings of my almost but probably never completely gone eating disorder than gain even five pounds. and i can't say i wouldn't love me cause god knows i've got a soft spot for the self-destructive so i don't have an arguement or a leg to stand on.

and i can't help but remembering a dream i had where i vulnerable whimpered "i promise i'll be good." and i don't remember why i said it or who it was too but i think it fits. at the least its far more relavant than the last dream i rememebr more than a few seconds of. hah. but i have a physics test to pretend to study for.

this website really is beg to get retarted but w/e. i'm not sure what i'm going for here. another binge today. it had been two weeks at least. and even though i was sitting on the couch next to family members wishing no one was home so i could make my way to the bathroom floor, it seemed slightly better than usual. less emotional and more in control. which doesn't make sense i guess but i think i've come to accept it as a fact of life. and it's been there forever and maybe it's a huge part of what made me fat but it's been there as i neared a bmi that would meet the criteria for an ed. and i've only gained around four pounds since then and it's not so much of a weight gain as the pact that i actually eat now. and i don't know how i want to feel about it but i think i'm okay with it even though so much of me still wants to aim for that weight. i've gotten better there. i really have. but i'm still bad. i still monopolizes my thoughts. and i'm just accepting the fact that i binge every two weeks and restrict for two days after to make up for it. and i shouldn't, but i am. and it doesn't matter, mostly, because i can maintain my weight or maybe even lose weight while doing it. and i know that isn't what i want, mostly, but it's still tempting. and i feel like i should be freaking out a little more here but i'm not and i'm not quite sure why. but as long as my weight stays btwn 128 & 132 i don't care. if the scale says any higher than that, i'll freak.

and it still rings true that i don't like the feel of this. but i find myself wishing i'd fixed it less. i find myself more accepting. so that's good, i think. or maybe it's just denial.

today was weird. i almost stared crying in english because i was so frustrated with the quiz we were taking and even though i read i had no idea what the answers were. then i did start crying on the drive home shortly after. and i don't know if it was just the straw that broke the camels back or the continuance of my early goodbyes or me reflecting on my disturbed mind or sleep deprivation. i'm pretty sure i'm greedy because catharsis is never enough for me. i don't know. i'm totally freaking out about college on and off. deciding that it's okay that my first impulse is to say "i don't know" so much of the time. it's weird how calm i am right now. i don't know why. i think i needed it. i needed somethign mildly self-destructive. but i do want to stop. somehow. and i've just been really emotional lately and it doesn't make the most sense but w/e. i have plenty to keep my busy.

right. there's so much in here. i had three mini freak outs and one larger one today. i don't know how it started or why but i could feel it coming. and i'm starting to consider the notion that it never gets easier. i thought i'd begun to come to terms with the lonliness of human existence and that it was helping but i don't think i am. i don't know. i just don't know as usual. what's the point of all the turmoil and what's the point of all the stress and why am i so damn disturbed.

she was right. i refuse to believe the evil one is suicidal because i don't think she deserves to be in my club. and i do half think of it that way. i can fake things all i want but it won't stick. and maybe i should come to accept that it doesn't mean anything that i came so close to being close or that i was in such a bad place for so long. and i should stop obsessing over specific days anf feels. and i'm not there anymore so i should stop fixating on it. but i'm still so fucked up and a lot of it isn't going to change. and it's weird that i started crying after spilling "i don't understand why my dad loves me" because i really don't. because i'm really not that good of a person and i'm not the person he thinks i am. which is fine and usually how it goes i think. and i have all sorts of family issues but fuck it cause who doesn't. and it's funny to look at my sister because she seems so well-adjusted and i'm really glad. but it's weird because we grew up in the same enviornment. but i'm glad i'm me and i'm creative and original and weird even if it's verging on insane at times and a loner. whatever. mostly i like where i am. and how i am. but a lot of the time i still hate myself or at least don't understand why anyone ever likes me. i really do get surprised when peopel express a desire to spend time with me. and i'm getting over it and not caring about geting approval helps quite a bit. and i'm dreading the next time i have to spend time with my mom. and my feelings towards her are horrible. and when i think about it, i'm not a bad person. the only bad thigns i do are think bad things and it's only because i'm fucked up. i've got those jealousy issues. i'm jealous of a suicide attempt. as jealous as i am of perfect abs. which would bring me to that next point. i spend way too much time with my head wrapped around that. it has me. i am controlled, not in control, which is what they all say. even now, so much better, i can't go without excersizing or eat too much junk or i panic. i freak out and get uneasy and consider starving or purging and it's bad. and so much of my head is stuck there. and i feel like i could be doing so much more if it weren't. but it's so fucking important to me, still. and even though i'm so much better it still makes or breaks my day.

and i'm completely freaking out about college. it's so big and scary and new york is 3000 miles away. and it's so fucking expensive. it's so much pressure. what if it turns out this isn't what i want to do. and i really don't think it will but that's what happens. and i might do the smart thing and double major in something more practical. i know my current notion of a career path isn't exactly a sure thing. and it will be hard no matter how you look at it but that's fine. and if i can't make it, at least i tried. this is what i want now. what i want a lot. i can't know what i'll want in three years and if i'll love this the way i think i will. i can only go for it and hope. so that's what i'm doing. and sure the distance is scary and the weather is rough and a lot of the c.a.s. people will really suck, but this is where i want to go. and even if the majority of the non-tish students are pretntious and annoying, there will still be some cool people and i will find them. it will be hard to find people i like but it should be managable. i know i've got a pretty good thing going here as far as understanding goes but i can have that there too. and it honestly feels pointless to cary on in the same way knowing everything changes in august. and i shouldn't operate under such a fatalistic view but it's weird not to think that we'll never be friends in the same way or that much after august. it's really all the bittersweet i can handle. and it's kinda funny. and it's kinda sad. and, honeslty, i've got nothing as usual.

i can't wait to nap & watch a movie tomorrow. and write. yeah. on page 7 right now. only aroun 90 to go then, right. yeah. freaking awesome. there's always that. we shouldn't forget about how great that is.

isn't life funny far too often?

always here, always gone. i should have been, i should be dealing with this on my own instead of pretending to deal with it with the aide of certain friends. why is it i lie to myself so exquisetely for so long? and i feel completely like crap (physically) on and off all the time now and i really don't know why. but, you know, i don't even have a doctor to make a doctor's appointment. but i'm going to go back to avoiding dairy like the plauge and see if that does anything. and i really don't think it will but it will ease my paranoia.

in two weeks, and a few hours maybe, i'll be in vegas. and in two weeks and five days i'll be in new york. and in two weeks and six days i'll be sitting at some presentation at NYU. and in slightly over five months i'll be in college. so what's all this and why? and what do i mean by that? if you think i know, i must say you're pretty far off. and why do i keep reverting back to you and we? and i'm not going to say i don't know or it doesn't matter so much. it goes without saying, doesn't it.

i've decided to lose five pounds. probably a bad decision, but i don't care. i want those great abs. and i want to be that girl, or at least close to her. and to be honest, i think i can come close. because when i'm in any situation i'm a minor tease and a minor flirt and i always do everything i can to get guys to make a fool of themselves with the lightest suggestions that they might find some luck with me. and i am all talk and it's as much for amusement as it is for validation. and i'm shallow and i'm vain and i want more than most things to feel like i'm pretty.

and it happened again. and i wanted the comfort so badly. and it's not him, it's just my neediness. and it's always been there and it only gets worse the more i supress it. and i've been practicing a different way of living lately. and it works, sorta. but i still need these breaks. these times to sort things out. i just don't need them to happen everyday. and they need to happen, when they need to happen. because otherwise i accidentally spill things and i get irritable and i start resenting people who are mostly good for me.

and something about friday was horribly off. but mostly it was beacause i felt crappy and confined and what i wanted was the opposite of what i went after. and i keep doing that to myself and i don't know why. i've done everything in my power to avoid writing, overbooking myself and procrastinating on work. and it just feels so damn good when i finally get in front of that word document but i keep avoiding it and i don't know why. and i'm avoiding my friends because i don't want to tell them that the next four years of my life are probably figured out. and i think the more i supress the dark parts of my mind or soul or w/e, the bigger and darker they get. so, why bother? and they'll always be there and they should be hidden. and it's better that way. and i really am glad that i didn't and that i won't, when i think about it. and i don't want to obsess over it or over mty intracacies. and that is so spelled wrong,  but spelling is my mortal enemy. and there's a lot to deal with and as long as i feel all right and as long as i try to write. even i have to bully myself into it by listening to appropriately inspiring music. and then i hate myself for my sources of inspirating.

but it's all there and it all works, so far. i can't be confined. but i'm not about to blame anyone for the things i do to myself.