+ t h e b e a u t y p r o j e c t+

there she goes

Tue, 17 Jan 2006 04:32:52 GMT

Where am I going with my life? It seems that these past few days of the new year have been wonderful in all aspects except for one: my fat and disgusting self.

I am doing excellently in school, have got myself a wonderful beau, have been free from major bouts of winter-induced depression; but this is a new kind of depression. It's the realization that I am really fat, fatter like I was before I lost my weight, fatter than that summer when I walked my way through in a summer's daze through an entire month and a half having barely eaten anything...

Why do I have no willpower? My boyfriend has told me more than once now that I am so beautiful, I am not fat, but I could be incredibly and amazingly too-beautiful if I did lose a few pounds...since I am, of course, visibly round around the edges...and it hurts especially when it's that type of person telling you. I felt myself shrivel up the last time he said it; with Aunt Flo coming on and all that, I get pretty edgy about things like my appearance, since everything else seems to be going down the shitter at times. And...well, not to brag, but the boy has a nice body, a really nice body, much harder than my disgusting wonder-bread self.

And we're both Virgos. Go figure.

Actually, seriously, GO, figure. Please, body, go fuck yourself. Please die and fade away. Please learn to control yourself.

Of course, the parody is, it's only me. It's my mind and mode of thinking that I have to change.

Please, please let me get through this. I was not destined to be fat, I have never considered myself completely ugly, but now it's getting really hard to look at myself and not want to die a bit inside. Why? Because it looks like I am already dying.

Our culture is about quick-fixes and celebrities doing cocaine to get thin and McDonalds death burgers and extreme paranoia and all that fun urban industrial capitalist stuff. I am, unfortunately, a part of that system, but I don't have to die by it. And, let's get real; what the fuck else do celebrities do with their lives? Okay, okay, a few have talent; but the lot of them just mope around worrying about the only thing they gotta worry about - how they look - as they get followed by aestheticians and get their noses powdered by the hour.

I am sorry, but I am not a celebrity yet. I am just a young girl in the world looking for a way out of herself, to a better place.

I enjoy my life, I love many people. It's not fair that I should hate myself so much, and though I know I always have a choice, it's about time I just say I'm going to do something and just fucking do it so that by the time I shut down this computer the thrill won't be gone and I'll still be as thrilled about the whole fucking thing because, shit, I fucking deserve to be happy about myself, I have a year left until I'm actually an "adult" and what a terrible thing would it be to still be fat at that point.

I need to preserve the little girl inside me. And I will, at all costs, because I have to.

Short term goal: lose 50 lbs. by April 1st

another day

Tue, 08 Nov 2005 15:45:52 GMT

I ate under 1000 cals yesterday.
I also had a late, late class. And I was all fuzzy-minded.
That's the only thing I honestly can't stand - school. When I fasted hardcore a couple of summers ago, it was, well, summer. Nothing to do/think about, really, so I didn't need to save my sanity.
But things make me insane.
Fasting makes me crazy.
But the results are crazy good. I guess there's no rational explanation for the things we are doing.
Or I'm doing. But who cares.
The vision I have...I can't let it go to waste.
Food is dispensable. The feeling I could get if I liked myself, wouldn't be.

xx

I'm gonna take a couple of apple cider vinegar pills.
They do something, not sure what, but I'm enthused.

morning blab

Mon, 07 Nov 2005 13:25:16 GMT

I have class tonight until ten.
Existentialism.
Which is cool. By the time the whole day goes by and all I'll have had is coffee,
things will run perfectly parfait.
Minus the parfait.

I find that when I'm slightly depressed, I can do much to cut things down.
Which is fine for me.
Better than cutting things up.

fucked up little girl

Sun, 06 Nov 2005 21:59:32 GMT

I am making a journal to track my progress through its ups and downs.
It's such a self-destructive progress that the idea of keeping a journal makes me laugh.
What progress?
Well, I guess I have no choice.
If looking at myself makes me cry, I have no choice.
If sitting down and feeling as if I'm just a MOUND OF FLESH hurts to the point where I want to run away from myself, I have no choice.
If food makes me fat, and I'm fat, I have no choice.
I honestly don't. I'm a fucked up girl,
but I don't wanna fuck up everything.

ressentiment

Sat, 05 Nov 2005 19:28:17 GMT

I went dancing last night and had three drinks, but I also danced for an hour straight.
So, not too bad. Plus, my lover-friend was there.
I hypenated that for a purpose; he really likes me, I kinda like him.
It's not mutual, but he's hot. A great dancer.
I've been trained.
But honestly, there's no greater motivation when your desire to look good for yourself becomes parallel to a desire to look good for someone else.
I like to taunt.
When I'm good I'm good. But when I'm bad, I'm better, baby.

xxx

ps. I've met some really great girls in certain communities, lately. I realized that people who like to lash out at you are stupid. I mean, anorexia is a mental illness with physical effects. I am not ignorant about that; but similarly, just because you aren't about to die from being so thin doesn't mean you don't have those same destructive/constructive tendencies. Plus, it's really not all about food. It's also about control. I DON'T WANT TO BE OBESE ANYMORE.

It's so easy to say. So hard to do.
My spine hurts but my heart is warm.

girl talk

Fri, 04 Nov 2005 15:21:43 GMT

It also struck me today that I have a year until I'm 20,
until I'm fully an adult,
and since I don't want to grow up,
I have to preserve the little girl within me.
I know that sounds cryptic,
but I don't want to grow into a fat person.
I never want to be thought of as a fat person
when I'm so bloody young.

in for the ride

Fri, 04 Nov 2005 15:03:09 GMT

The only thing I can't stand about restricting is that I can't be "regular",
if you know what I mean,
so I get kinda nasty-feeling, which is totally annoying, because on top of the
ephedra
caffeine
chromium
and other assorted ~~candies~~ pills,
I have to take laxatives.
The ones I have are chocolate laxatives.
I find this somehow amusing.

I've been encountering some really sweet girls lately, and even a few who have gone from 175+ lbs. to under 150, which is incredible and inspiring.
And enviable...which is good.
I'm home all day today.
Just gonna work, write, read a bit. Coffee and cigarettes are all I need.
How terrible.
How terribly satisfying it is sometimes.

[200]

burnt

Thu, 03 Nov 2005 16:35:57 GMT

I wasn't accepted into a community today cuz I was "not anorexic enough".
Wow, that hurts.
But it's a good pain, the kind of pain that makes you wanna bitch-slap people and not eat for a week as testament to your hurt.
Honestly, I like it.
I guess all anas are masochists anyway, aren't they?

[200]

the fattest anorexic ever

Tue, 01 Nov 2005 18:01:35 GMT

I figured the day after Halloween would be the day of my first entry.
Cavities, calories, the whole shebang.
Now I just want to bang my head against the wall.
I can't purge. I don't have the talent.
But I do have self-control. Though it causes me a lot of stress, which makes me whirl out of control sometimes.
I would exercise more but I don't have the time.
Or patience.
Or self-constructive qualities.
I'm working on it.

I'm 5'5.
I used to be 200 pounds.
I used to also be 150.
I will die if I don't get it near the 100-range.
I have anorexic tendencies. Or maybe I will call it an ednos.
Not Otherwise Specified.
The void in between where it is a dark dark place.
I see what I want but am afraid to get there.
But it's pulling me in.

niche: fasting
loves: coffee + cigarettes (terrible I know), salad w/ balsamic
demons: sugar
tendencies: breakdowns, suicidal thoughts
successes: no more self-mutliation
contradictions: desire to waste away
idols: Angelina, that Nik girl from America's Top Model -- gorgeous!), Uma, various models with beautiful hip bones and defined cheekbones and thighs that don't touch

I can't wait for my thighs not to touch anymore.

So, that is basically me, or at least the bones of myself.
Har har har.
I'm hoping that I'll make some friends. And some enemies, for competition purposes.
I'm very competitive.
But only (truly) against myself.
It's all about me, anyway.
The beauty project.
Thin, thinner, thinnest.