Monday, June 29, 2015


forgot what it felt like, but here it is. I did not eat all day today until dinner. I felt good. 

I felt great, actually. 

Then, when I arrived home, I did not smoke and binge like usual. I ate some chicken and broccoli and a bit of potatoes, and I called it a night. 

But, the night does not want to cooperate. The sleeplessness, the restlessness, the complete lack of being able to turn off my brain returns.

I've spent a lot of my life suffering from insomnia. Years, actually. Lying in bed not able to stop thinking about stupid shit that doesn't matter at fucking all. 

Tonight, I return. I knew I would when I decided to stop smoking for a bit here. But, alas. Se la vie. I have got to stop spending too much money smoking too much pot and eating too much crap. 

Sleep will return eventually, and maybe I'll lose some weight and get some shit done in the meantime. 

Here's hoping sleep comes soon.

Goodnight, pretties. 

Tuesday, June 2, 2015


I'm bulimic.

I am taking a diagnosis class, and the other day instead of reading about schizophrenia, like I was supposed to be doing, I read about bulimia. I don't know why I started there, but I felt drawn...

I officially, medically am bulimic, and when I think about my life, I have been off and on (more often on) for about the past 5 years.

I was kind of surprised by this, but then also not surprised... When I kind of mentioned it to the boyfriend, a totally cofusing conversation followed.

"Years?" he asked.

"Yeah, for years of my life I was bulimic." I said, while in my head, I thought "am bulimic."

"Well, I'm glad you aren't anymore. Geez. I don't think I could be with you."

"Why not?" I asked totally shocked by this response. "What would it change?"

"I don't know; you wouldn't be you. I wouldn't even know you; you'd be different."

I let it go at that, but I realized that he would be crazy pissed off if he knew. I've hidden it so well from him, and tried not to engage in the behavior when I could possibly be caught by him, and I guess it has worked well. I think somewhere in the back of my mind I thought that he would kind of have an inkling that this was the current reality about me. I thought when I mentioned it that he would possibly even question me, but I guess literally no one in my life will ever know about what I do except the world of blogger.

I think he sounds insensitive when you read this, but I get what he was saying... I think more what he meant is that if I were crazy skinny and blatantly throwing up every meal he cooked me, he wouldn't like it, but it just shows how ignorant people really are about the disease. He doesn't know the realities of eating disorders, and I have no question that if I came to him and confessed, he would be sympathetic and understanding and legitimately try to help me.

One day, I'll probably tell him when I'm far removed, but right now I just don't want to... I'm somehow comfortable with my disease. And that's almost scary... But... For now, Mia is my own. She comforts me and is familiar, and honestly has been with me a lot longer than him.

Plus, lately, my old methods have been working well, and my body is FINALLY letting go of some of this weight. I'm at a number I haven't seen in a while, and I feel sooo much better about my body at the moment. It was just enough of a push to get me losing again.

So what is the resolution to this? How do I feel? I don't know... I guess it just is what it is and hopefully one day I will figure out how to leave Mia behind. But honestly, I'm not in any kind of hurry.