Yesterday was Beltane, one of 8 pagan sabbats, and i spent most of it in the woods. There, amongst the comfort of trees, i had sex with someone i barely know. His name is Daniiel, pronounced duh-niel because he’s russian. Merry making is part of this sabbat – but why do i feel so conflicted. He told me blatantly that he doesn’t love me and doesn’t know if he’s ready to fall in love again, and i respect that – at least he’s honest. He told me not to fall for him because i might get hurt. Little does he know that hurting myself comes naturally to me. I’m a masochist after all. He told me that he doesn’t know if he could love someone who doesn’t love themselves. So now, i have to try harder… *sigh*
I went crazy eating the past few days – i might even be over 150. My lowest weight was 144.5. I really hope i’m not over 150… i think i might have to kill myself if that happens haha. I hate my body so much. Everything about it is wrong – my belly button to my nipples and, not to mention, calves. I wonder where all this pain started – where the first moment that i was worried about my body happened. Daniiel says I should love myself and my body because God created me and we are all perfect. But he also said that fat girls who show too much skin are disgusting, so i don’t really know where he falls in all this.
I haven’t been purging as much, but i still do it. I don’t know – not that much comes up anymore – i don’t know why i try.
I feel like i have no self-respect. Mom tells me that all the time. I can’t tell her about having sex with Daniiel or she’d kill me and never let me see him again. *sigh* I hate everything. I wish I could tell her, I really do, but it’s just not an option for me…
I haven’t been eating lately. I sneakily throw food away and pretend i ate it. Like my peach yogurt this morning (down the toilet). I lie and lie and lie and can’t stop. Mom says i don’t live in truth and maybe i dont but i dont have much alternative. I can’t even remember when i started chronically lying to my parents and being so freaking smooth about it. Every minute, every second my hunger pains crumple me – but they feel like winning like the pain translates to victory and honor. I was always kindof a masochist now wasn’t i? I don’t need food. I just want to be so thin and beautiful. I want to be able to fit into really beautiful designer clothes that don’t make size 12s. Collarbone and hipbone honored like a goddess.
My mom is furious at me but I can’t stop now. Not since i’ve been losing. I have to be 115. I will be. She thinks i’ll go back to the hospital again that I’ll be locked away with a key or shoved into an ambulance. I’ve never gone into an ambulance without being handcuffed first and I wont go without a fight that’s for sure.
I’m sitting in my world literature class right now, and we are talking about how in poetry images become something more – they become symbols and that we should always be looking and thinking – does it mean more? And I have been thinking. I want to find higher meaning. Not eating is like prayer to me – like being so empty that something more can fill you. But in the end, I’m just destroying something – the person that i used to be. I’m not sure if that person is beautiful or not, but she is real and being replaced by something more – by the god/goddess.
Each pang of need stifles the mind
The idea of food feels like failure
You want to be the skeleton in your closet
Thin-eternal and full of righteousness
Greasy, filthy, succulent, disgusting
Your plate is heaped with fat and disease
So you don’t eat anything
You can’t. You have to reach nirvana.
But eventually you get hungry enough
That you start to consume your own heart
The warm sticky ideas and feelings
It bleeds emotion and you were so numb before
You eat your own heart out and feel sorrow
A deep longing – a grief you never knew existed
They say when you are hungry enough
When you have denied yourself any kind of pleasure
You begin to eat out your heart,
But you will never be satisfied, never be full
The pain and loss overwhelms you
And the mirror shows a skeleton.
by me, xXx