Log in

I think...

Oct. 1st, 2006 | 07:55 pm

I think I might leave tonight. How many times can I say that I hate life?

Link | Leave a comment {1} | Share

I don't know if anyone's listening

Jul. 25th, 2006 | 12:50 pm
mood: depressed depressed

I know I haven’t been on here for a very long time, but I need to get this all out…

Neither of us even remembered our thirteen month anniversary. I hate it when I let guys do this to me. I’ve said that a lot in my life, but not for the past thirteen months. Normally Sterling is there for me. I don’t understand why he’s not anymore. I guess all we’ve done for the past few months is fight. But I can’t even call it fighting. It’s more like I yell and he says he’s sorry and that he really does care…even though every single thing he does or doesn’t do shows that he doesn’t care at all. He won’t get a job. He won’t go to school. He’s a cokehead, and he lies to me about it. About everything. He told me he had a job on two different occasions… both resulted in him finally admitting that he lied about it. He lies to his friends, he owes people money. He owes me money. He owes me love. I guess he could take my concern as being a huge bitchy anchor stuck in his shoulder, telling him to get a job and to get up and do something with his life.

When I’m alone, I’m only more aware of everything I hate about myself and my life. I hate my job so much.. I hate my weight. I hate my nose. I hate my hair. I hate feeling like there’s this lump in my throat and an uneasy weight in my stomach. I hate the fact that Sterling has been my only best friend for a long time. I let everyone else get away. I have no one to talk about these things with, because I drove them all away. I didn’t care, because I had Sterling as my best friend, my boyfriend, my lover. Now I have nothing and no one except 20 extra pounds on my thighs, my stomach, my chin, my ass, but more importantly an addiction to alcohol that I can’t fight by myself. And I have the sound of his voicemail going over and over through my mind. I know if I just leave it alone, accept the fact that I broke up with him last night through a friend, since he wouldn’t pick up his phone… then maybe in a few months I can move on and get my life back to what it was before I let him in it. I had my parents and my sisters, plenty of friends, amazing grades, and I was going somewhere with my life. Because of him, I lied to my parents, I stayed out till 4 in the morning on school nights, snapped at my friends, and gave myself to him completely. I don’t know what to do.

Link | Leave a comment {2} | Share

(no subject)

Nov. 21st, 2005 | 02:45 pm

I guess lately I've been letting myself get obese. I just got a comment on how big my boobs are today. And I hate boobs. I'm at 111 right now. I need to go puke up my intestines. I wish I could find a doctor who would staple my stomach. I got some real motivation this weekend though. I had sex with my boyfriend after we hadn't for about 2 weeks, and my theighs were so gross I was completely turned off the entire time and felt like crying. I think he thought it was him. I wanted to tell him so badly that it wasn't, but I knew if I said anything more about my weight he would get annoyed by it and I'd hear the dreadful words, "You're already skinny enough." And I hate that he doesn't get it... I hate it that there is never an "enough" for me. I want a BMI of 13% or lower by Christmas. But what with Thanksgiving coming up and that means turkey and rolls... I don't know. I'll do a lot of speed and coke to help pave the road. Speed's great for losing an appetite. I want to just slice off the fat on my legs. I'M SO FRUSTRATED AND FAT. FUCK. And I hate it that people think that I say that so I can get comments like, "Oh you're not fat at all... blah blah blah" but I'm not even listening to that. I HATE THOSE WORDS.

And I'm getting ugly in the face too. Something's changed. My eyes are smaller. My stomach is bigger. My cheeks are puffy, and I have big bags under my eyes all the time, which are red and dry from crying. And no one understands, and I don't know how to make them understand. My life went from perfect at 102 lbs to complete shit at 111. If I ever get under 100 again I'm throwing myself the biggest coke and sex party ever.

Link | Leave a comment {7} | Share

(no subject)

Oct. 10th, 2005 | 08:02 pm

oh god. reasons my life sucks:

1. i broke my hand
2. it was my right hand
3. i'm right handed
4. i didn't cause sara any known or obvious brain damage
5. i almost died on the treadmill today because i tripped and tried to grab onto the rail with my right hand
6. i heard my hand crack when trying to grab on
7. must i go on?

Link | Leave a comment {3} | Share

(no subject)

Oct. 4th, 2005 | 03:17 pm

ApplicationCollapse )

Link | Leave a comment | Share


Sep. 19th, 2005 | 02:26 pm

i hate my life i want to die. the end.

quelle est la pointe du la vie?

i dont know. no one knows. shoot me. and then eat my fat for food. it'll last you about three months.

Link | Leave a comment {1} | Share


Sep. 9th, 2005 | 02:00 pm

I remember when I used to write all these suicidal poems in eighth grade and one day I turned one in to Mrs. Walsh, my journalism teacher. She pulled me aside and asked me if I needed counseling. I said no. She believed me. A couple months later in ninth grade I tried to commit suicide. Shows you how much intuition “intelligent” adults have.

Sorry… I was just strolling down memory lane and trying to remember how many stupid fat people I’ve come across in my fifteen years of living. Did you notice that? There are hardly any intelligent obese people. They are too lazy to even read books. I never want to be lazy like that.

I’m listening to the great Oberst. “I realized that I need you, and I wondered if I could come home. Mhmm mhhmm. Remember the time you drove all night just to meet me in the morning? And I thought it was strange you said everything changed. You felt as if you just woke up. And you said this is the first day of my life. I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you. But now I don’t care I could go anywhere with you, and I’d probably be happy. ”

Sorry. Had to sing along and type along. Did you notice how it seems so easy to make goals and you truly feel as if you’re going to accomplish them, but then it comes time to start and you think well I’ll do it another time. It’s the same with trying to quit something. I hate how there’s always blood in my snot. My throat always hurts. I get random nosebleeds. I always feel feverish and shaky. People always tell me I’m shaking as if I didn’t know it. I think these are going to be the last couple grams for a while. I don’t know. It seems like whenever I cut back I start gaining weight again. It could all be in my mind, but I doubt it. I just read this girl’s recommendation not to start the coke diet, and she said she was addicted when she only did 4-5 grams a week. I do on average a gram in one sitting. I must have a high tolerance because I’m really not addicted. I just hate the comedowns and I always want more when it’s happening. I think tonight I’ll have some vodka with my coke, bartender. (Sterling.) hahah. He has vodka in his fridge that he wrote “Katie, my baby’s.” on just for me because I called dibs on it. I get to drink the whole bottle tonight. And he’s got two grams for me to do as well for this lovely evening. God I love him. Doesn’t ever ask me for money. Just for sexing up. And normally it’s me who’s asking for both. Haha. I’m a shallow, selfish, anorectic. And an alcoholic and coke addict. I think I may be losing my mind as well. But I have to go, mes amis biens. Au revoir!

Link | Leave a comment {4} | Share


Sep. 8th, 2005 | 08:07 pm

I'm down two more pounds since I last weighed myself. 104. Going on 95. I can't wait. It's actually starting to pay off.

Today I went and bought an exercise ball and a new exercise DVD. I worked out with that for two hours, then ran for 20 minutes because that's all I can stand. And I just got home from riding my bike two miles. I'm making progress. Even though I spend almost the entire night working out, it's for the greater good. And I didn't eat since the apple I ate this morning. YESSS!!!!

Link | Leave a comment {2} | Share


Sep. 5th, 2005 | 12:50 pm


Link | Leave a comment {4} | Share


Sep. 4th, 2005 | 11:46 pm

I just don’t know anymore. It’s become a constant obsession. I don’t even think about Sterling half as much as I think about my arms, my thighs, my ass, my stomach, my chin. I wish it would just fucking stop. When I was taking a shower I wondered if I really was that bad and if my thinking I was a lardo was justifiable and then I thought of course. But then I thought what if I’m just seeing fat and it’s all in my mind. But THEN I thought why, then, would my mom constantly give me subtle hints not to eat any more and what I should do to get rid of the flab on my arms? And why would sara constantly feel she could use fat jokes on me and yell in front of entire stores that YOU CAN’T FIT IN THAT SHIRT WHAT ARE YOU THINKING YOU’RE WAY TOO FAT. I’m not crazy and I’m not starving for attention and I’m only happy lately when I feel completely empty. If I can even feel the water moving around in my stomach it makes me want to puke. I fixed up my bike today so I can ride around while sitting on my ass but at least it will be working my legs, or so I tell myself.

FUCK. I fucking hate being human. I hate bowel movements and I hate fatty cells and I hate cholesterol levels and I hate BMI and I HATE HATE HATE WEIGHING MYSELF. 106 lbs. and I’m only 5’7” that’s over 16% BMI. And I blame school because when I was at home the constant rumbling of my stomach didn’t matter to me because I had other things to think about and do, but when I’m in school it drives me insane and I eat the fucking goldfish. WHAT THE FUCK. I sneak FOOD in class. I eat goldfish when I think no ones looking but in my mind I know they are and I keep telling myself they’re not. and in their heads they’re thinking put down the goldfish. And what is she thinking the last thing she should be doing is eating. And I hate pretending that lunchtime doesn’t bother me at all. And I hate that I have to eat a banana in the morning to wake my body up. I hate everything. For the first time in months I really do just want to die. I’m just so sad and I really don’t like it. I actually cried today and laid in a way that I couldn’t feel my legs touching and didn’t have my hands on any of my fat so I could make myself feel better. That’s not fucking NORMAL. And I fucking HATE IT. fucking fuck fuck. And I have so much stress from other things and to be perfect in every other way and now I have to be perfect physically. I set my 2 month goal weight at 100 lbs. that’s more than enough time. I just have to figure out how I’m going to do it. HELP ME GET CONTROL OF MY LIFE. Please….

Link | Leave a comment {2} | Share