(no subject)
It's like I'm so lost and have no idea what to do. One day I wish I had a sweet boyfriend to sweep me off my feet...but my problem is that, just a little while before, I was having a one night stand and being easy, which isn't exactly conducive to being the sweet girlfriend in return. I guess it's just my lack of moderation again. I have no middle ground. I am either consumed by emotion or completely frozen of it. I either had the perfect stainless reputation or have the reputation now that I cannot seem to get rid of. I either don't even kiss a guy or end up getting drunk and getting on him on the "first date". No wonder the West guys don't want us anymore. They've had us. They've gotten what they want. Dave was all prepared to romance me a little, I think, seeing as he was such a gentleman the first time I went out with him, but then after a few shots of Captain there we were, right on his parents' bed. And here I am again - I either have to be eating constantly or nothing at all. I don't know the meaning of temperance, or moderation. The only things I know are complete abstinence or complete indulgence.
I feel like...y'know, even if it turns my life into a fucking hell, I just have to be thin and pretty again. Because then it seems to me like everything will be better. I know it won't be. But there's this irrational impulse in me to just get thin, and to get pretty. That's why shopping or getting my hair done cheers me up so much. That's why I feel this need to get thin. It just makes me forget all of my problems for a moment if I can look in the mirror and smile, or if people think I'm pretty, or stuff like that. So it's back to restricting I go. God, 115 sounds like such a good number. Restricting is something to keep my mind off all the other things to worry about. Losing weight is something to be proud of. Restricting will bring me back some good looks. Restricting will take up my time so that I don't even have to dwell on the fact that I don't have my home or family anymore.
So much for foster care supposedly bringing stability. Ha. As if they ever thought that this would help me. Instead it just catapults me right back to where I was last year at this time.
I feel like...y'know, even if it turns my life into a fucking hell, I just have to be thin and pretty again. Because then it seems to me like everything will be better. I know it won't be. But there's this irrational impulse in me to just get thin, and to get pretty. That's why shopping or getting my hair done cheers me up so much. That's why I feel this need to get thin. It just makes me forget all of my problems for a moment if I can look in the mirror and smile, or if people think I'm pretty, or stuff like that. So it's back to restricting I go. God, 115 sounds like such a good number. Restricting is something to keep my mind off all the other things to worry about. Losing weight is something to be proud of. Restricting will bring me back some good looks. Restricting will take up my time so that I don't even have to dwell on the fact that I don't have my home or family anymore.
So much for foster care supposedly bringing stability. Ha. As if they ever thought that this would help me. Instead it just catapults me right back to where I was last year at this time.