Every day.
I hate livejournal and my life.
Each day, I feel more and more disgusting.
My dreams may wake me up in a cold sweat,
but I'd rather be unconscious and unhappy
than awake and aware of how bad my life is.
I want so badly to be beautiful again.
I want so badly to be 115 lbs again.
Fuck it.
Fuck all of you. I'm serious. Fuck you. You think I'm high-rolling because I got out of high-school early? You think my life is good? I don't have shit for a life. I don't have anything to do with it. I'm not very intelligent, I don't excell in any subject. I really am a bad photographer and I'm no kind of writer. What the hell am I going to school for? No profession appeals to me. Oh, boo-fucking-hoo, you have to go to school in the morning. I wake up every day with a migraine. I get nose bleeds at least every other day for no reason. Everytime I eat or drink anything, my whole jaw hurts because I probably have at least half a dozen cavities. It doesn't matter how much I take care of my teeth, they just keep coming. It doesn't matter how much I take care of my skin or how much I shower, I will always have blemishes and frizzy hair that just looks weird and dead. I cry every day. I hate myself every day. Every day I find extra fat on my body that just wasn't there over a year ago. I'm not getting any taller, I'm not looking more grown-up, I'm just getting fatter. Do you know what it's like to just watch your body go to shit and not be able to do a damn thing about it? I get out of breath just walking up my stairs. And I make promises to myself and forget them the next day. I used to love getting dressed. I loved dressing up and creating new outfits and accessorizing and all those girly things. Now I'd rather just stay in bed with the comforters over me because nothing I own fits me right anymore. I look bad every day. I am disgusting.
Oh God, my fucking God.. How I wish I could stay in bed. How I wish I could stop hating myself and how I wish I could stop crying and eating and being to angry and being so alone.
But I have to be at work at six in the morning. I have to do a job that I don't know how to do. I have to drag my hideous bag of flesh into my bed that will bring me pitiful sleep and in exactly seven hours, I'll have to get up and rough it through another horrible day.