11:04 p.m. x 2006-12-30
today i ate a breakfast bar and a snack-sized bag of white cheddar popcorn for breakfast, a subway sandwich and a tall coffee for lunch, and half a burger, split with kara, for dinner. and i feel like that was so much
and i don't feel very well.
i really wish i had not done all of that business last year. i wish i had done things differently. but i didn't. and i have this to handle now.
this is the stupidest thing in the world. i don't look at it with any significance or importance.
i think food problems are incredibly tacky. especially on young women. whenever girls make persistent comments on their weight, their size, issues of food/clothing/appearance - i think it's remarkably tacky and there is no way getting around it.
doesn't mean i don't do it. but i don't like hearing it from myself either. myself least of all.
to me the problem is that i care. i would like to not be concerned with my appearance. it's a little buddhistic move, to shed that desire (only that desire...a very little move) to want to submit to that drive to be thin and be pretty because i ought to be. my one side says that's the issue that needs to be fixed, and that will pull on a long sweater and obscure every part of my body and slink around like cousin it because i think it is tacky to care.
then the opposing side motions - i am extremely unhappy with my appearance, and negligence has taken this to hell. it only took a month for me to lose 50 pounds last year, and circa two to gain...however many i gained between may and june, predominately. i'd reason maybe 5-10 pounds. nothing freaky. but annoying, and in my stomach, where i have never gained weight before. i wanted nothing but to become very unaware of my body.
i'm not going to do dumb shit again. rationally, i'm not interested in that. it's stupid. it hurt me very badly. but it's the same issue i have elsewhere, and it's persistence and compulsion and pervasiveness. pounding in my head and obsessing until i DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE PROBLEM.
which led to me being ultra stupid shortly before christmas.
i feel brain cells abandoning ship as i write about it. it is so dumb.
i want to feel good about myself and i do not. i feel like i've lost a lot of the definition of my figure, because it dictates that my waist be very small, which it has had a history of being because that's not wear my weight is concentrated. that'd be my thighs, which i obscure by wearing skirts. but i've gained weight in my stomach. and...yes. i freaked out.
but it makes me feel...not very well. i do not feel like noting about my parents' running commentary on my appearance except to say it isn't brimming with positivity. i will note that my mom heavily favors the barb "aren't you in a relationship? then why do you look like shit?"
those are some slick moves my mom possesses. she's got problems. i'm past listening to her about things of that nature ("of that nature" indeed encompasses all things related to my character, integrity, and capability, as her forecast would be i possess more intelligence than my sister but am a fraction as useful, lack completely the skills to exist on my own [worth putting in brackets - all they do for me is drive, and only when i ABSOLUTELY MUST, other than that, they never hear from me, i'm a tenant at this point, and an amiable one!], have absolutely no problems...none at all...never ever [which, it's not like i'm riddled with psychosis or any fucking thing of this nature but jesus, many of the problems i have had have been grossly mistreated], and am - my crowning achievement - a liar and a whore. a liar because i've told my mother the truth every time i've left in the middle of the night to see jimmy, and a whore by default because it is a boy. in case it flew past you, i'm sexually active, but with said young man. and only him. and ever only him. and possess no interest in sexual activity outside of him. because i am in a happy, fulfilling relationship. my mom's got some issues here. this is not worth talking about anymore).
i write about it primarily because writing about it magnifies it's unimportance. trying to honor it with words proves futile and i force myself ever more to realize it's not even worth it.
IT'S NOT EVEN WORTH IT.
i'd like to get a hold of jimmy to know whether or not i'll see him tomorrow night. which is new year's eve. he alluded to it, but i'm not entirely certain. his cousin is here. BECKY. i'd like to meet her proper. i didn't really get to in the summer. that particular day i didn't get to properly do anything except rub jimmy's forehead while he hallucinated in an infirmary (i still grin remembering that he knew right where it was, though - awe). i would like to talk to him. it'd be cool.
if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start