Alive

I am still among the living. 

I found a fantastic job that I am incredible at, moved to a brand new state, made myself indispensable at my second job through months of hard work, bought myself a new car, and will be officially debt free in ten months. I have made myself happy here, in my own apartment, on my own schedule. When I drive under yellow lights, instead of making wishes, I thank God for the life I have now.

I read through my blog and smile at what an anxious mess I was over the future. I am still that way, of course, but it brings me joy to remember that the universe can be trusted to work everything out if only you have patience.

But I wouldn't be me unless I was unhappy about the way I looked. Thankfully, I just found out something devastating and I am so upset I cannot eat. There is nothing like the heartbreak diet, y'all. 

I am such a big believer in signs. I have always believed in asking for signs, and I have always gotten the signs I needed, even when I did not want to take the path they were pointing me down. But lately, it seems like every time I ask for direction, or answers, I get nothing.

What do you do when the universe goes silent?

I am struggling between knowing that I need to let go completely, and desperately trying to come up with some way to make everything okay again. 

My grief feels like a physical force pressing into me, and I cannot sort out my feelings on this one.

I don't know. It used to make me feel better to write. I could always come here, jot down a few words, and shut my computer feeling lighter than when I started. I don't think anything will make me feel better now except time.

Sorry for this post, I just wanted to let everyone who is still here know I am alive. 

<3 Lee

Like it's been a couple days since I slipped and said something sorta like your name

I miss him.

We have spent six years of this back and forth thing, this loving each other and leaving each other, this making each other miserable and then making up, this beautiful, tragic, trainwreck thing. I do not know if this separation is permanent. I was going to pack up my entire life and move to him, to be close to him, to confess my love and be all in with him. Instead, it somehow got so out of control and now we do not speak. He broke the silence to tell me he was proud of me for graduating. I waver between loving him for that and hating him for it. For six years, it has always been him at the end of the day. I am struggling with his absence from my life. I feel it so acutely. Everywhere in my life holds the imprint of him. How do I drive my car, or sit on my couch without picturing him there? But also, how do I make room in my life for him when I know it involves a much greater sacrifice than I am willing to make. I do not know if he will be in my life again. We have never been able to fully let each other go without coming back eventually. But if we have yet to figure out how to make it work in six years, is there even any hope for us? I can't come to a conclusion.

I am adrift in my life. I have graduated college. I want to get a job by August, start making a dent in my truly horrific student loan debt. Move to a new state, a new apartment, have a new life.

I want to start over. 

This is a huge improvement from wanting to end it all, I guess. 

Some days I cannot picture the future, and it scares me. It would be so much easier to kill myself than to continue with this life. I am scared of everything, and I cannot choke down the fear. It overwhelms me. I had wanted to have a job lined up before I finished my internship, but that did not happen, and I just truly have no idea what I want to do with my life. 

Mostly I just don't want to do life without him, I guess. 

In my last post, I could not feel anything. Nothing mattered. I much prefer that to this feeling of paralyzing fear that I have to live with every single minute. 

I am of course, still fat. At least there's one constant.

<3 Lee.

Beauty and the Beast

Shall I start this post with the perfunctory "it's been such a long time"?

Lately, life just feels like a job I am not qualified for.

Soon I will graduate, and instead of this wonderful stasis I have ensconced myself in, I will be thrust into the real world of trying to find an actual job that I actually will be under qualified for. Ah, the beauty of college life.

I was supposed to start calling places to find an internship back in August, but I haven't even begun and the deadline is sometime in the first week of November. Hello, anxiety. Can you say hello to something that never really leaves?

On my best days I feel the tinge of mania that sometimes rests on the edge of my mind. On the worst days, I am simply floating through life, not really registering anything.

I actually have people to talk to in class now. I have people to commiserate with. However, that is not the same things as having friends.

The boy I was deeply in love with still calls every day. We're getting better at communicating, I guess. Is six years too long to try to make things work?

I dream of graduating, starting my repetitive job, learning how to cook for myself, spending my nights reading, going to museums, finding actual hobbies like trivia night or book clubs. I dream of being a person surrounded by beauty- art, history, writing, music - and yet a part of me knows I will never be that person. I will instead hole myself up in my apartment and live a sad, lonely existence because I am terrified of life.

I am, of course, still fat. Come on, did you think I'd make it through a whole post without addressing the elephant in the room?

My greatest yearning is to be in my mothers house, wrapped in warm pajamas, shuffling around her kitchen while a crockpot full of delicious food bubbles, a bookmark in the Iliad, waiting for me to return.

After all, why shouldn't I read a book about getting lost? I am already there.

Instead, I try to keep up with my school work, write the essay, wish I were dead.

I force myself to step on the scale every day, and yet my heart isn't in it. My heart isn't in anything anymore.

For extra credit, I am allowed to write my own obituary. I disguise my own self-loathing with jokes, but I am afraid the professor will read it and become concerned. I do not even know how to write about myself anymore.

I hope you are all doing better than I am.

<3 Lee

Tried to ride the storm out and crashed the boat, could've drowned but I grabbed the rope

I am okay.

The boy who broke my heart and I had sex. A lot. And then he left for a year to be stationed 1800 miles away. We talk every day. He still loves me. I am a mess of emotions and confusion and anger.

I am doing really well in most of my classes. I keep writing essays for one of my professors and he keeps giving them back with a bright and shiny perfect score on top. I knew I failed a 2 point question on my quiz, and thought it was going to be along with a few other things but turns out that 2 point question was the only one I missed, and that professor only docked me 1 point because I demonstrated knowledge about the subject, even if I got the answer wrong. My professor, who is the Smartest Man I Know gave me a B on my paper, and that is exciting because he is so hard to write for.

I am doing okay.

My weight is a mess.

I have to find a new place to live at the end of the semester because my roommate is moving out unexpectedly and I cannot afford this place on my own, and I do not want to search for another person with whom I might get along.

I have been trying not to stress so much about my future. I've been trying to trust that the universe will take care of me and place me where I need to be when I need to be there. But it is so hard, y'all.

Today/yesterday was my dad's birthday and it marks yet another year that I did not speak to him. Last month my mother held a house party and while obscenely drunk, I cried to her and our old neighbor about how he'll never love me. It was messy and it made her really sad, but it helped me kind of come to terms with the fact that he'll never be the father I want him to be. He'll never be the dad who will walk me down the aisle, or tell me he's proud of me, or tell me he loves me. He's the dad who will criticize and manipulate and provoke me into anger and I cannot have room in my life for that anymore. My peace is more important.

And with that sentiment, I sign off.

I hope you all are finding what you need.
<3 Lee

You gotta deal with the demons before they deal with you

I have not yet disappeared from the blogosphere.

That surprises me.

This semester is intense and I'm only a month into it. I have decided that although I had a mental breakdown that landed me in a psych ward less than four months ago, I'm going to double major and add on two minors. This means that to graduate on time, I will have to take a full summer course load and 18 credit hours for my remaining semesters.

It's fine. Everything is fine.

I am struggling in a lot of my classes. They are all just...intense. I've used that word twice now but it is the only one I can think of that encompasses the true pressure of them.

I'm trying really hard to take care of myself this year.

This weekend, if I have the time in between all of my homework, I'm going to take myself to a movie. There's one out that I'm really interested in. My grandma saw it and told me she thinks I'd like it. So I'm going to do it. This terrifies me. Doing anything alone, completely on my own terrifies me. We'll see if I actually follow through with it.

This summer, my family will be together for a week on the coast. I have a lot of fun things planned that I want to do, including going to a museum that has the crime scene photos of the Manson and Black Dahlia murders, as well as a rather sizable coffin collection. Also, an ice cream place that serves a flight of all 32 of their flavors. Its called balance, y'all. Haha.

Turns out, there's this suspension bridge that hangs 90 feet in the air and apparently sways really hard, especially when you get to the middle of it. It's nearby the house we're renting. I'm determined to conquer it. I hate heights. But this is my year, and I just feel like maybe I need to do this. I need to prove I'm stronger than my mind.

Now if only I could conquer my food fears LOL.

The guy I can't seem to stop writing about texted me. I had made a deal with myself that if I didn't get a definitive sign by the 7th, then I was going to move on and forget about him. And I was ready to. I was picturing my life without him in it and then...Sure enough, he texted me. On the 7th. Y'all know I believe heavily in signs so...I don't know. He sounded really lost, and I came away from the conversation feeling as though I had the upper hand for once. It felt good. But maybe not healthy.

Life just feels really heavy right now. I don't have a lot to say.

I hope everyone is doing okay.
<3 Lee

It pays to kill with kindness when you are your own worst enemy

I read through my blog the other day and I am just so sad for my younger self. My posts read like a pre-teen wrote them, all drama and no substance, but the truth is that I remember how scared I used to be. It was constant voices in my head picking me apart, constantly having to be on high alert for the next situation in which food would be involved, constantly lying to the people I loved. It was exhausting. It was eating an entire candy bar with a smile only to spend the next two weeks replaying every single chew and hating myself for it. It was imaging putting a gun to my head but not being able to because I was positive that people would come to my funeral only to talk about how fat I was. None of that made it on to my blog, because I didn't have to tell you guys that. You knew. You lived it with me.

Looking back, I can admit to myself that I was probably never truly in recovery. I still obsessed about every calorie going into my mouth, and there was never a time where I was simply okay with eating the amount I should have been. I spent my time begging to throw up or slicing into my skin to punish myself. Honestly, there was not one single day all throughout that period where I even came close to normal eating. Even if I ingested all of the calories I was supposed to, they came from a binge. I wrote about losing my mind one day when I had all three meals, and then never replicated that incident again. I was obsessed with losing weight, but couldn't admit to myself how deeply entrenched in this I actually was. I didn't want to be eating disordered anymore, but I still wanted to disappear. Maybe that sentence should be in present tense.

I keep thinking back to the way old Blogger used to be, before everyone abandoned it. Remember when we would all log on and show each other pictures of our new haircuts, gossip excitedly about our real life thinspo, and roll our eyes as we typed out how our teacher/friend/colleague/random person commented on how good we looked? Half of my brain yearns so much for that again because it was solidarity, it was not having to be so goddamned alone all the time, but the other half recognizes that it had the potential to be sincerely unhealthy. I know that for me, every single number is a competition. Even still, after so many years of "recovery", when I hear someone's BMI or how much they weigh, or how many calories they burned at the gym, I have to physically stop myself from trying to be better than them.

(The other day my friend posted a picture from his treadmill that stated how many calories he had burned and I had my hands on my keys and was finding my gym card before I even realized what was happening. I don't want to think like this anymore.)

The girls I used to be friends with on here haunt me. I have an entire spreadsheet of hundreds of blogs that I used to read, and 90% of them are ghost towns now. Realistically, some had to have beat this, right? But also some had to have...not. I wonder which category I will fall into. It has been almost five years since I first started this blog, but my eating disorder was very much prevalent before that. That's such a large chunk of my life, how much more of this can I possibly do? But also, how could I even think about not doing this anymore?

I don't have it in me to continue this way. As much as it pains me to admit it, I cannot take care of myself without supervision. I have a roommate who I never see and a mother who does not notice when I come home smaller than I was before and this freedom has allowed me to restrict. No one watches me the way they used to, and I simply don't have the energy to fight with my own fucking head about having breakfast, lunch, or dinner. It seems pointless. I know what the outcome will be, why waste all of that energy?

I am struggling so much.

My hair is falling out by the handful every day. I have to clean my brush after every use because so much of it comes out. My nails are so brittle that tapping them against the table will shatter them. My metabolism has mostly kept trucking, but I am always so tired, always so cold, always so preoccupied with calories and exercise and the size of my fucking thighs. And the worst part? I am STILL nowhere near the weight I want to be. Cue hysterical laughing.

I hope that every one is doing so much better than I am. Please reach out if you need anything at all.
<3 Lee

'Cause I Was Never Taught to Give It Up

It took a lot of faith to fight my battles and tackle a couple of habits I never thought that
I’d have to
But did, bottle the water under the bridge and toss another written page of my history to the wind
When it blows, cause all of this disaster has lead me home and left a lot of room for me to learn to grow
Yeah you are not alone

Third day in a row of posting, so I guess pretty soon it'll be time to disappear for three or so years haha.

Do y'all believe in signs?

I do. When the boy left me, I asked the universe for so many signs. I need to know whether it was time to move on from him or not. We've been best friends since we were fifteen, and he was my first love. We had plans to move in together and probably get married soon. I want so badly for there to be a reason we keep coming back to each other. But I don't know if the signs I'm receiving are because I so desperately want to see some or if they're actually there. I am still so angry. I am still so hurt. I am still so completely in love with him.  Thinking about being with someone else makes me sick. And there have been so many signs. I got a piece of  mail from his branch of the armed forces, the plane shook while I was praying "if we're meant to be together, have us encounter turbulence", I saw a license plate with his initials, and every single book I pick up either mentions his name or the place he was stationed at while we were together, just now as I was writing this, I somehow found a piece of paper that has to do with him under my leg even though I have no idea how it got onto my bed, plus a million other smaller ones. Or am I looking for all of these things? Am I so preoccupied with him that I unconsciously note these coincidences while letting the signs I'm not supposed to be with him pass me by?

I am just really fucking struggling.

In other news, I don't know how much I weigh. I mean, I stepped on the scale and took note of the number that popped up because of course I did, I'm eating disordered. But my scale does this cute lil thing where it shows 15.6 pounds higher than what is accurate. I don't know how to fix it. First time I stepped on it I almost killed myself right then and there. So. I know the number it showed me, but I have yet to subtract the 15.6 from it. I obviously have a rough idea, because I can do simple math like that, but I'm putting off figuring out the official number for as long as possible because right now I can keep telling myself "well at least I'm definitely not this weight" and feel okay about it. Knowing the real number would mean throwing away the last vestige of my sanity and giving myself completely back to the constant number game.

And of course a little voice inside me asks: what would be so bad about going back?

This entire post is clunky and terrible but so am I sooooooooo at least I'm consistent.

My roommate came home today, which is fine, I like her, but I wasn't expecting her back until Monday and I had all these plans to clean before she got here but now I'm hiding in my room because my anxiety says its been way too long since she arrived to go say hi now, and the apartment is terrible so she thinks you're terrible and its better to just stay holed up even though I'm am literally so freaking thirsty.

Its casual.

Okay y'all. It's time to wrap this up. I hope everyone is doing okay.

<3 Lee

Releasing With Your Hands (T.W Rape)

But the rain can't wash you if you're laying in the dirt
And the pain can't change you if you blame it on the hurt

I don't know why I'm here. Which is true of life in general, but more applicable to right here, right now. I don't know why I'm back on Blogger. Maybe it's more comforting to release these words out into the internet where there is a chance someone can read this, reach out to me, and tell me I'm not as desperately alone as I feel. It's not like I've ever been a big blog, obviously, but I reread all of my posts last night and the outpouring of love and acceptance I used to get really overwhelms me. It reminds me of a different time in my life when I didn't have to be drunk to feel genuine happiness.

In September of 2014, I wrote 'This man, he looked right at me and said "When you are angry, when you refuse to forgive someone for something they have done, that's you handcuffing yourself to that person and letting them tag along with you for the rest of your life. You have to overcome the bitterness." 

But what if I can't??'

That was almost three and a half years ago and I still have not uncuffed myself. I still have yet to label myself "survivor". Instead, I watch spoken word poetry on the subject and try to imagine telling my therapist that I was raped. It is too difficult for me to face, so instead I continue to pretend like that event has not tainted every piece of my life, has not affected every detail of me, has not dictated the way I allow myself to love and be loved.

How do you begin to forgive someone who you truly believe does not deserve forgiveness?

How do you begin to heal?

I do not want to be the person who hurts others because they cannot process their own hurt anymore. I do not want to be my father. I do not want this continuous cycle of violence that has been synonymous with my last name. I do not want to be incapable of letting another human being in.

I feel more okay about the future than I ever have before. Most days I can silence the anxiety and dread that swirls within me when I think about what comes next in terms of long-term plans. And yet I still find myself white-knuckling it every day, willing every fiber of my being to not step in front of that semi, do not stop your car on the train tracks and wait for the train to come, do not go buy a gun, do not spend all of your money on pills, do not disassemble your pencil sharpener, do not buy a rope and test how sturdy that ceiling fan is etc etc etc. 

We did this activity in the psych ward where one person sat in the middle of this huge tarp, and the others gathered the edges of it in their hands and pumped it up and down as hard as they could. It was a metaphor for anxiety, because while you were in the middle, all you could see was the tarp waving all around you, never ceasing. Anxiety doesn't let you take a step back. It grabs you and holds you as tight as it can until you cannot remember how to breathe. Meanwhile, all around you are the sounds of your friends laughing and joking, and you do not want to ruin their fun by exclaiming "Help! I am drowning in this!" so you endure it silently until your turn is over and it is time to crawl back to the edge of the tarp. 

I think about this activity a lot, probably for all of the wrong reasons. It was supposed to teach you that if you would just look up from the anxiety, you would see your whole support system standing around you, ready to do anything they could to lessen the pain. But instead it taught me that no one will ever be there for you when you really need them to be. It is all on you and you alone. 

My trauma will always only belong solely to me. I have to learn how to be okay with that, how to process that, how to overcome that all on my own. More than anything in the entire world, I do not want to be here again three years from now writing about how I haven't yet figured out how to uncuff myself. 

Dear Bella, you said you found my last post uplifting, and so if you are reading this, I am very sorry for how dismal this one turned out to be. 

I love you all, please know you can always talk to me about anything.

<3 Lee

The Comeback Kid

It's only been like a year and a half since I last posted, I'm sure y'all didn't even notice I was gone right? Lol. There's been a lot of changes in my life. I hit an ultimate high weight (surprise, I'm still eating disordered! Shocker). I started my junior year of college. I fell really hard for a guy from my past only to have it disintegrate in front of my eyes and land me in a psych ward. Losing him was so unbelievably hard because I thought I was going to marry him. We had our whole lives planned out, and when he didn't come back, I kind of lost it and tried to kill myself yet again. This time though, the hospital took it seriously and they slapped me with a 72 hour hold and dumped me in the psych ward. It was scary and hard but it ended up being one of the best things to ever happen to me. I met some of the kindest, funniest, most beautiful souls in the world, and got the opportunity to open up about some of my trauma and then just laugh about it. It was the most freeing thing I've ever done. When I got out, I decided I needed to start actually working through my problems, so for the first time in my entire life, I talked about growing up in a concrete way. With my previous therapists, I had always said stuff like "growing up was hard" or "my dad was...tough" but this time I fully admitted to her that he had abused me. She gave me a PTSD diagnosis, which wasn't surprising, because I knew I had it, I had just never admitted it to myself. It was scary, but I did it and I am a better person for it. I'm working on being friends with the guy who broke me. I gained my long-time friendship with a guy named C back, after months of not talking over hurt feelings and unsaid apologies. I fooled around with a previous ex and then gained the maturity to end things before he got hurt. I got right with God. I started analyzing my bad behaviors and figuring out where they stemmed from and learning how I can fix them. 2017 was objectively the best year of my life, but it was so spectacularly brutal too. I can't lie, being alive is so f-ing hard you guys. But I know that 2018 is going to be a good year. I can feel it. I really hope y'all can too.

I love you.

<3 Lee

The Killers

My friend has this sticky note pinned above her desk that has a quote from The Killers written on it. It says "I'm so much older than I can take" and if that doesn't sum things up, I don't know what will.

I am so tired.

I am so tired of living in this body in this world that can't ever seem to get anything right. I am too large, too loud, too awkward, generally just not enough and too much all at once.

I live with someone who is basically my sister reincarnated. It's really weird and it makes me miss her sometimes. She calls, but I never answer because how am I supposed to tell her "Sorry I never came to see you when your baby died. I was busy trying to kill myself." She'd go nuts. She'd call my parents screaming and that's the last thing I need.

I am so weary.

I'm finally getting my life together, but it's like I'm still missing out on so much.

My sleep schedule is mostly okay now, but I didn't sleep well last night and therefore accidentally slept through my gym time this evening. That wasn't fun. But I did buy myself a book that I've been waiting for forever. It got released today and since I was already in the town that the nearest bookstore is in (a good 16 miles away from where I live), I bought it.

Long story short, from the book, I got a tattoo idea and a bunch of signs from the universe that I'm supposed to go to Portland soon. I'm real big on following signs from the universe, so I'll probably go with some friends next summer.

I don't want to step on the scale, but I also can't just...not. So. There's that. I'm gonna take my body measurements and do some before pictures pretty soon. Maybe I'll post them. We'll see.

This post was everywhere, but I'm just trying to get back in the swing of posting things so that's okay.

Hope y'all are doing okay.
<3 Lee

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack

Hey y'all! I'm just gonna start by jumping right into what I've been up to the last few months.

Last year was my Freshman year of college, and I had a blast for awhile there, but eventually everything fell apart as usual. I had a good friend, and a nephew both die and that destroyed me. My grandpa was having health problems, I broke with a few good friends (for the better!), and it all resulted in me not ever attending class second semester. So. I failed all those classes and having never failed anything in my life, that was pretty fucking terrible y'all. But it's okay, I'm back and I'm doing okay.

I live in a house with three other girls and I HATE one of them. I'll call her L. Oh my God. Shoot me. One of them is EXACTLY like my sister (A)and let me tell you, it's real weird living with her. She constantly yells at our other roommate K., which makes me feel bad for K. But it's a roof over my head so that's good.

I'm trying to drop out of my sorority for various reasons but the girl who's in charge of processing that basically told me "If you stay for another year, you can be Alum, and during this year you won't have to pay dues or go to any events or anything". Uhm. Okay? Sounds good??

I'm starting a fitness plan soon (I know, I know, when AREN'T I starting a fitness plan, right?) But I think this time it'll be for real (quit laughing) because my best friend and I are going to hike this incline that is basically 2,744 stairs straight up a mountain sooooo if I don't follow through on this plan, that's for real going to suck. Let's hope it sticks.

I'm heavier than I've ever been in my entire life so there's that.

I had this terrible break up awhile ago and it's still fucking me up, but I think I'm finally starting to heal from it.

I'm taking this dance class as one of my courses at college and I was pretty worried about it because I am in no way physically fit at all, but it's actually super fun, all the people are nice, and I nailed my choreography last class which is something I have tons of trouble with so yay me!

I've been super on top of my homework and I think this semester is going to be really good for me. I live about 5 minutes walking distance away from a counseling center so I'm thinking of going back to therapy. It's so close, I kind of don't have a reason not to. The only thing stopping me from doing it is this deal I've made with myself that if I go back to therapy I have to actually work through my issues instead of doing what I normally do and pretend like I'm fine. The truth is, I know exactly why I'm so fucked up. I just can't bear admitting it out loud. If I go back, I'm going to have to remember something I spent a long time and a huge amount of energy trying to forget. So...Idk but I'll make a decision soon.

I also tried to kill myself on April 4th, and soon after my mom got me a dog so that was unexpected. She doesn't live with me at my house though, she stays with my mom and I really miss her.

Anyway, I'm glossing over a lot of things, but I'm just real excited to be back. I hope everyone has been doing real well.

Love y'all
<3 Lee

You're adorable as hell but I'm glancing at your wrist

I've been gone awhile, but that's so me,

I don't know what to say, really.

It's my first year of college and I'm doing okay, but it's been hard. I haven't made many friends and although I was accepted into a sorority, it doesn't really feel like I'm apart of it, you know? Although today when I walked through the house doors to grab my Big presents, they all cheered and seemed happy that I was there. It was nice, coming in to that kind of response.

This week is just a week full of presents from my Big sister, who remains anonymous until our retreat on Friday, but I'm pretty sure I know who it is and I couldn't be happier. She's the only one I've really connected with, and I work with her too, so I'm thrilled. I think I just need to be more involved.

I'm going to the doctor soon to get back on my depression medication and see if I can get something for my anxiety.

I think last I wrote, I had lost my soulmate and was dating some other guy. In August, my soulmate came back and it was a blissful month together, but ever since then we've been fighting and breaking up. This time, it's serious and I know I need to make a change. So I'm doing it. I'm gonna get better. I have this anger inside of me that I can't seem to get rid of at all, so I'll be working on that. I need him back. I know we're meant to be and watching him with someone else will kill me, especially because now I know I won't ever feel the same way about anyone as I feel about him. I love him too much to let myself destroy this.

I miss my home. I miss my mom. I miss high school, and kissing him in front of my classes, and going out to lunch with my friends and just doing stupid kid stuff. The weight of my responsibilities is crushing me. Honestly, maybe it's the anxiety and the depression talking, but sometimes I think I'd really like to die. The thought of just pure nothingness fills me with so much joy. I believe in Heaven, but if nothing happens, it's still a win/win. Of course, I won't do this. I'll schedule therapy sessions and take my meds, and just generally be a good little girl for awhile.

Truth be told, I'm fat. That's the one illness I refuse to give up. I'm convinced that I can get down to my goal weight and then just leave all of this behind. Of course I know it never ever works like that, but I'm the kind of person who needs to keep making the same mistakes over and over until it finally occurs to me that I'm an idiot.

College is hard. I'm constantly on the verge of tears. I don't have the energy to do anything. Ever. I roll out of bed five minutes before I have to leave, and throw on sweatpants and a ponytail. Most days I can't bring myself to shower. I just don't have enough spoons lately*

I don't think I can do this. I'm too scared, I'm not good enough, it's too hard. But like my ex-boyfriend always says, that's quitter talk. So I'll tough it out. I'll try everything I can.

My few saving graces are that I got the best roommate ever, I have my best friend here with me, I have people to eat with every day, and I love my teachers. I may be struggling, but I have a support system.

I'm so contradictory. I don't know. I'll post again soon.

Love you all. Be well.
<3 Lee

*Spoons, for those of you who don't know, is a common metaphor for depression. The average person has an unlimited amount of spoons on any given day. But someone with depression, or really any mental illness only have about 20. Showering costs 5 spoons, remembering to eat costs 10 spoons, social interaction costs 3 spoons, putting on clothes takes 2 spoons, doing homework takes 7 spoons, getting out of bed takes 5 spoons, brushing your teeth takes 3 spoons (I'm just assigning random numbers to random things, and obviously some people have waaaay more spoons than others, I'm just giving you the general idea) and so on.

Blueberry and Orange Tea

"We make it meaningful by caring about it." -John Green

So I think I mentioned in one of the last posts that I had met the love of my life. He broke up with me. It was ugly and terrible and I miss him so fucking much. I have a new boyfriend and he's super sweet and he worships me and he's my best friend and he's been in love with me for almost the past year. I just can't help but still love my ex. He was my everything. I've been dreaming about him lately. I hate that we'll probably never see each other again. I really thought we would end up together. That's probably pretty stupid, because we're so young. But I honestly felt it in my soul that he was The One. I hate him for leaving and I hate myself even more for not being able to hate him and for pushing him away. Everything just really freaking sucks.

Anyway, I'm slllllllloooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwlllllllllllyyyyyyyyy losing. I'm 141 on the dot this morning. My boyfriend and I fight about how much I eat, and how I perceive myself and all that crap. It sucks. It sucks even more that I can't sort out my feelings about anything. I'm hiding from life, and I hate that because I swore to myself that I would be different, that I would take every chance life gave me.

I don't even know what I'm doing anymore.

I love you all.
Thank you to Cursum Perficio, Sam Lupin, and Mandy Devoidde for your comments on my last post.  I really appreciate them.

<3 Lee

She's always screaming when she's calling her friends

My girlfriend's bitchin' cause I always sleep in
She's always screaming when she's calling her friends
She's kinda hot though
Yeah she's kinda hot though
(Just an itty bitty little bit hot)

My shrink is telling me I've got crazy dreams
She's also saying I've got low self-esteem
She's kinda hot though
Yeah she's kinda hot though
(Just an itty bitty little bit hot)

She put me on meds
She won't get out of my head
She's kinda hot though

 -5 Seconds of Summer

It's been awhile, as usual. I'm at an all time high weight, but at least I'm doing something about it. I bought a vial of hCG 1234 drops, and so far I guess they're working okay. I'm losing weight, though not as much as I hope to. 

College starts in a month and I'm so scared, but I'm also soo excited. This is a chance to reinvent myself as someone who is down for anything and who has their life together. I want to join a sorority, and in order to be pretty enough to be accepted, I'm going to have to be at least as skinny as I was when I started high school, which was a solid 22 pounds thinner than I am now. And to think, I used to think I was a monstrosity when I was 120. Ugh. How did I let myself go this much?

Anyway, I pretty much already like my classes, without even taking a day of them. I'm taking two English classes (my major), a Philosophy class (I'm so excited for this one!), a Psychology class, and a Sociology class. 

I also like my roommate, she seems pretty nice, so that's good. 

I've had 650 calories today. 142.0 at 8:00pm. Let's hope for a smaller number tomorrow.

<3 Lee

 

That's not how our song goes

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mImrPBvDoFI


This is such a throw back song, but my friend D reminded me of it and I'm obsessed with it all over again (:

In recent news, I went to the doctors to get my foot checked out because it's been really bothering me, and my weight was horrendous. And I know I was wearing all my clothes and my shoes but I was still on the verge of tears the entire time. It didn't really help that the woman who took my weight wrote it as big as she possibly could on the page for everyone to see. This is as heavy as I've ever been and I don't know how to get back in control here.

I guess I'll figure it out??

I don't know.

In other news, my best friend is here from college and I'm so happy to have him home. He is staying at my house, so my mom cleaned the entire place and hung up signs saying "Welcome Home C!" I swear, he's her favorite kid lol. He hung out with my boyfriend and really seemed to like him, so that's good. He came home so he could go with me to one of our friend's surprise birthday party and it was so much fun to just be surrounded by my best friends and see her so happy. We went bowling and then back to the birthday girl's house to roast marshmallows in her backyard around her fire. It was amazing. I didn't want it to ever end, because for a night I didn't have to hate myself...

Anyways, I hope you guys are taking care of yourselves.
<3 Lee

I'll tell you all about it when I see you again

I feel like Daisy from the Great Gatsby. I don't know how many of you have read that book/seen the movie, but there is this scene where Gatsby is throwing clothes over the railing onto Daisy, and she starts crying because she is overwhelmed by the beauty of them/is a shallow bitch. I've had a pretty bad shopping addiction lately. Online shopping, in store shopping, even dreaming about shopping. It is honestly getting severely out of hand. But if I can't be pretty, at least I should have pretty things, right? Anyway, I feel like Daisy because I was gathering up all of the things I have bought in the last week and a half (including pictures of the things yet to come) and I was almost moved to tears about how wonderful everything was. It was ridiculous.

I really don't know how I'm going to make it as a starving, poor, college student. I love nice things too much.

In college news, I am stepping WAY outside of my comfort zone and attending an overnight stay at my future college (where I do not know anyone), complete with a skinny body (fingers crossed), a magnetic personality (HAHA), and hopefully the ability to make it through the day without crying (HAHAHAHAHA). As you can see, I'm soooooo looking forward to this. But in all seriousness, I think it might be good for me, and who knows, I might have the time of my life. And if it does indeed all go south, my best friend is a 15 minute drive away. Blegh.

In high school news, my wonderful, loving, maternal Psych teacher has decided she hates us and has given us FIVE huge assignments due in a month. Not just any month though, oh no, the month before we graduate. I've had Senioritis since I was a Freshman, I can already tell that this will not be going well.

In other news, I am going to actually start making use of my gym membership and attend a cycling and yoga class every night except Friday and Sunday. (I don't get out of school early enough for the Friday classes, and they are closed on Sundays.)

And finally, in relationship news, I have found my soulmate. 

Yeah. 

It's kind of hard to care about anything besides him, but you know, I'm trying. Especially after I met his mother, who by the way has 6 kids and is probably 100 pounds soaking wet. Like...how???

Anyway, I hope you girls are well, and I hope you're taking care of yourselves. I'll get caught up on blogs soon!
Love,
Lee

You got that James Dean day dream look in your eye

And I got that red lip classic thing that you like
And when we go crashing down we come back every time
Cause we never go out of style
We never go out of style

Kayla Itsines' program is honestly working pretty well. I took my measurements before I started and then again exactly one week in, and so far I've lost about 1/2 an inch everywhere except for my love handles, but hey, whatever. A half inch maybe isn't a lot to most of you, but honestly any sign that this is working for me gives me hope that I can complete the grueling exercises and terrifying eating plan. The only bad thing is that I lost 3/4 of an inch from my bust. Which, I mean, it's not like my boyfriend is a boob man anyway, but still. Why does it always have to be the boobs that go first? I think if I had one wish it would be to be able to pick where the weight comes off of. Oh well. Que sera sera, right?

Any who, I'm really looking forward to my measurements next week. I can barely walk because my thighs hurt so bad so hopefully there will be some muscle development there.

I honestly want to thank everyone for their wonderful comments on my last post. You girls honestly and completely make  my day so much better.

I hope everyone is taking care of themselves and that you're happy, whatever that looks like to you.

Love,
Lee

I'm so heartless, thoughtless, lawless and flawless, smallest regardless, largest in charge

Yeah, my title is from a Nicki Minaj song. Sue me.

So a few months ago I was emailed a complete Kayla Itsines guide by the wonderful Miss Piggy over at zerointentions, but I never got around to it. I think I glanced at it once or twice, and then tossed the idea in favor of starving and restricting. It seemed easier at the time. Fast forward to a few days ago, when I was looking through my Instagram and stumbled across Kayla Itsines account. It was full of pictures of gorgeous women and thousands of testimonials and I found myself wishing I was just like them. And then it hit me, that I had her guide. I could be like the girls on the account. I have access to the meal plans, the exercise plans, the motivation...everything. And not only that, but as I was scrolling through Kayla's Instagram, my friend peeked over my shoulder and mentioned that she, too, had the program. One thing led to another and I now have a solid work out plan and a workout buddy to do this with me.

Can you say score?

Listen. I'm so fucking sick of everything. I've hated my body since I was eleven. This entire blog is basically me bitching about it and then sitting on my ass and then wondering why I'm still so fat. Starving and restricting don't work for me. It's pretty clear that the more I deny myself food, the bigger the impending screw up is. And yet, for some reason, I keep going back to it all because I lose a few pounds within the first few days. I've tried Recovery, and I can't seem to ever stick with it. Why? Because I want the weight loss, not the ability to say I overcame something that it never looked like I had in the first place. I understand EDs are within a person's mind and go so much deeper than what people can see on the surface of our bodies, and yet, somehow, that applies to everyone else, not me. I can look at any one of the people I follow on here and my heart hurts for them because they are struggling, even if their bodies don't show it. But when it comes to myself? No. I cannot be sick unless I am underweight.

Ay yi yi.

This way of thinking is so incredibly tiring and I know the wonderful people who follow me are sick of my wavering, because I'm sick of it too.

Eve got me to thinking about the way my mind works and the way I've been approaching "healthy" and here's what figured out:

I don't think I want to lose weight. (Sidenote: of course I want to lose weight, that's been the driving force of my entire life for seven or more years. But it's not the most important thing.)
What I really want is to not jiggle. To not have to suck in every second of every day. To not have to hide my arm fat, or my thighs or anything else in super baggy clothes. I want to wear cute things. I want to be...dare I say it?  Fit.

And here's my confession. I worked out last night, as per Kayla's plan. And I took my measurements, my pictures and my weight. And when I woke up today, I snuck onto the scale, and saw that I had lost two pounds. But instead of being upset that I hadn't lost more, or immediately calculating how much I could lose, or setting goals for myself, I took a deep breath and I told myself I was excited that I was taking this first step towards being truly and honestly happy with my body.

Let's see how long this good mood lasts, okay?

I hope y'all are doing well.

<3 Lee

Man, we never had a chance

Okay, so here's the deal. I'm heavy. Like. Almost heavier than my highest weight ever. And when I started this blog, 120 was like, the end-all-be-all breaking point of my sanity. The moment I hit it, I would freak out and restrict and exercise and it was crazy. Now, I'm about fourteen pounds higher than that. Yeah. WTF.

So....yeah. Somewhere along the way, I've lost my motivation. I let myself go, I got fat.

So here we go, again. My BMI is 23.00 on the dot. By next Monday, I'd like to be lower than 22.4. That's very attainable.

Then by the 1st of March, I'd like to see below 21.7
By the 8th of March, I'd like to be below 21.00
By the 15th of March, I'd like to see below 20.3
By the 22nd of March, I'd like to see 19.6
By the 29th of March, my goal is to see 18.9

I think that thinking in BMIs will be a lot better for my own personal sanity, honestly. They're just nicer numbers.

In other news, my boyfriend and I fought in the early hours of this morning, and it was terrible and it resulted in both of us crying and wishing the other would text first, and of course, both of us being way too stubborn to. At one point, he was begging me not to shut him out, and it made me think that I'm probably so burned by what happened in my past relationships that I'm not giving him a chance to make mistakes without just completely shutting down. And that's not fair. So in the long run, we're tons better now.

I hope y'all had a lovely Valentine's Day.

Love,
Lee

Confessions and a Problem.

First, the confessions.

It's been over a month since I've taken my depression meds. I literally cry over everything now. Even the littlest things. Ugh.

I am not okay with my weight. Let's be honest here, I gave up on recovery awhile ago and trying to convince myself it's still worth it gets harder every day. It's exhausting to cry over food and the scale, and the exercise routines, and then pretend I'm fine with it all.

I am also not okay with the way my body is handling solid food lately. Anything that goes into my mouth past noon...just...stays in me. It's disgusting and nasty and I don't want to say the solution is to stop eating solid foods, but...you know, that's what it looks like.

I am not okay with how my mother assumes I'm sick because of all the fruit I've been eating, and then begins to monitor my fruit intake. Like...what?!

I am not okay with sitting in the shower and just feeling so fucking terrible that I end up sticking my fingers down my throat. I didn't get anything up, but the fact that food has that much control over me just...sucks. I don't want to pick that habit up.

On the bright side, I got to stay home today, and I spent all day shopping online.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd now I'm addicted.

It's a big problem.

Like...okay, here, look what I bought.





                                          (the green dress)

Yeah. It's not...it's not awesome. I mean, it totally is, because I cannot wait for everything to get here, but I really should not have done this...

Let's be honest. Who wants to see a fat girl in a dress?

Ugh.

All my love.
<3 Lee