yuck

Dear Blog,

I'm sick of myself. I want to disappear.

Much Love,
M.

...

Dear Blog,

There are some days where I just don't care.


Those are dangerous times.

Much Love,
M.

Sigh

Dear Blog,

These Mood swings are starting to take more energy than I have to give. I felt really nice today. I was flying high. Totally content. I don't know what changed in the past three hours but I am avoiding all mirrors at all costs. I don't feel like looking at myself. I have hardly eaten anything today. Apparently B told another one of my friends that I just don't eat or "forget" sometimes. That friend decided to ask if I ate today. I told them I did. That was a lie.


Right now I'm stressed out. I'm biting my nails. I'm getting a headache. I'm feeling really down and I just don't feel well in general. I feel jittery, pretty bad. What the fuck is going on? I want a cigarette so bad. It's been nearly a month and a half since my last one, but I would kill a bitch for a Marlboro right now. I wanna go to sleep but I can't seem to make myself sleepy enough to actually go to sleep, but my body is just worn out. Every part of me is just exhausted. My brain. My body. My spirit. Its just all done. Ready to throw in the white flag and call it quits.

I'm just done, dude. You don't even know. I don't even have the energy to change my writing style so I don't sound like myself. I think if any of my friends found this and read this entry they'd know it's me. They'd catch it, and you know what? At this moment, I wouldn't care. I would throw up my arms and say "fuck it. I'm done." I don't even know where this came from. I just want to sleep, all day. I want a dreamless sleep too, blog. I don't even want my mind to be active when I sleep. When I sleep, I want my body to shut down and take a break. I want to just be numb, and not feel it for a moment. I feel pathetic. Gimme a day, blog. Just give me a day.


Much Love,
M.

Hm

Dear Blog,

I am kind of pathetic, ya know? Hm. I should work on that.

Much Love,
M.

L-o--s-t

Dear Blog,

I'm so lost. I don't know what to do. The Zantrex-3 is making my stomach hurt pretty bad, and it's only the first day. It's not doing much to keep my appetite down. I don't want to eat. Just looking at the food makes me sick.

I'm pretty good when it comes to not eating when my friends are not around....but when I'm around people...I feel like they're looking at me. I feel awkward.

Anyway...I got to listen to my friends speak of boy trouble today. Hm. I cant explain my way with relationships. I'm too afraid to get into them. I think I just haven't found someone who can push me the way I need to be. Once I find someone who likes me...it's more...I pick at what's wrong with them then try to actually like them. I find small things I don't like. My friends don't even see me as a relationship person. They see me as a-sexual. I guess that's how it works.

Sometimes I just feel like a hole in the wall, a waste of space. With guys, I'm always the friend...it's been that way most my life. I'm not girly. My friends (who are mostly girls) tell me that I am pretty. Maybe I'm missing something. Maybe I just don't see it. I hate being this kind of girl. I hate being this person. I want to get out of my skin sometimes.

I wanna roll under the covers and cease to exsist for a brief moment.

Much Love,
M.

Voicemail

Dear Blog,

You know...I almost broke last night. (I forgot to write this)
I almost called and told someone. I would have told them about you. I would have told them I can't eat anymore. I would have told them everything. I was that weak.

Almost.

You know what though...I didn't, obviously. I don't think they'd want to hear it. I don't think they'd understand. I know they just want to ignore it. It's easier that way. My Mom's seen the pills. I wonder if she heard me crying last night? I wonder if she heard me punch the wall? On my way back from the bathroom, she asked if I was okay. I said yes. Yes Mom. I'm fine. I'm perfectly okay. My eyes aren't swelled. My arm isn't bleeding. My stomach isn't aching. I don't hurt at all.

I don't blame her though. None of this is her fault. I don't want her to know, now that I think about it. I love her too much. I don't want her to know this is what I'm going through. I want her to remain blissfully ignorant. I don't want my room mate to know either. I have always been the Mama of my friends. I've always been the one looking out for them. I don't want my friend's to loose that security with me. I don't want them to notice the giant mess I'm becoming. I don't want them to have to feel any of it. I can't keep them from being hurt by the rest of the world, but I won't be responsible for it. I won't hurt them. I love them too much. I'm glad I never said anything. I've become the good one. I've become the strong one, I think. That's me. I just need a cape now, right? Ha.

I don't know how to be the weak one. I don't know how to be comforted. I don't know how to be okay with feeling this way. I don't know how to tell them I need help. Its okay though, because I have this blog. I can write out everything on here.

I can't believe I almost told them.
But you know, I called, and no one picked up.
That's fine.


Much Love,
M.

xoxo

Dear Blog.

I just want you to know that you will never know me. You won't get to see the way my eyebrow flinches or my lips curve in reaction to what I'm writing. I've decided to indulge in being absolutely anonymous. That's one of the wonders of the internet right? You don't stand out until your display name on Myspace reads "R.I.P" (Which is followed by a rush of comments of people telling you how much they miss you like the next day you're going to comment back..........dead people don't myspace. Sorry. I guess it helps them feel like they're still able to talk to that person...okay...I'll go with it. ) or you expose some naked part of your body for the world to see. Even then I guess you still don't stand out that much. If you won't show your boobs on the internet, there is always another girl who will, and another one who will show more. If you decide you don't want to be friends with someone, then they can quickly find another person who will. If you decide not to buy that magazine, or not to tip the evil waiter...someone else is going to. That's how the world works. There is always someone who can replace you or who will do what you won't, right? It's a real shitty cycle.

Although there is that one moment when you feel like you can't be replaced. That's what it means to be happy, when someone can't get someone else to do what you do or be who you be. That's what it means to be happy. Atleast that's what I think. I'm sure there are many other scenarios that can make you be just as happy, but that is something to smile about.

You know....I know plenty of people may read this and it can go either way...and either way might start with the word "Wow."

I'm either:

a) over analyzing
b) intuitive
c) creative (which can mean the same thing as b I guess in some cases)
d) depressing
or e) for Emo.

Here's the thing blog.
I don't really care what the answer is.
Wanna know why?
They don't know me. Anyone who reads this is only seeing this one side. They're only going to see that one side of me. That's fine. It's the price of being anonymous I suppose. They don't have to know me....or even get to know me...in fact, I'd rather they didn't. I don't mind being the dent in the wall that you only giving a passing glance, or who knows....I could turn out to be the big hole in the dry wall. Don't know, and don't care. We'll see how things go.

Until they either form an opinion, or decide they don't care.........I'll just keep writing and see what I get.


Much Love,

M