Monday, 27 August 2012

Glasses and Cigarettes

I feel as if i am on yet another self destructive path.
I have spent the last week or so chasing highs.
Maybe its not self destructive and i just need to accept it as some fatal flaw of my personality.
But I just want to be numb.
I know I drink too much, smoke to much.
I am perpetually inebriated, or not.
maybe that is the problem.

This weekend we had a small get together with a few friends,
I polished off two bottles of wine,
barely felt fuzzy, and then proceeded to chase different forms of inebriation.
Which just left me feeling ill, and even worse in the morning.

I am at a time in my life where things are fairly uncomplicated,
I am happy, as happy as i am capable of being.
yet i still feel dark, and grey, and smothered.

My weight is some unfathomable number of height.
I am not even going to disclose the number,
It is too high
and too disgusting.
I just want to tear the flesh from my body,
store it some jar on the other side of the planet
and never have to look at myself again.
It is a constant anxiety that just presses down on every aspect
It is ruining all sense of reality.

I want to feel empty.
and full.
conflicts that i am just losing the will to fight anymore...

Friday, 17 August 2012

Sometimes, but not really

I am partaking in piggy's challenge, and I have gone down 1lb.
1 measly lb.
I suppose that it is better than a gain
and I did fast for 2 days...
and then binged yesterday
and then purged
followed by some more purging,,,,

So it has been an exciting week
I want to have one day, when I don't obsess over food, weight... everything
I want just one day where I can eat what ever I want.
and there will be no consequences, and I will not be overwhelmed with this darkened sense of guilt.
Just one day.
But that is all fairy tales and love stories. they don't exist
except inside the minds of romantics.

Shit is getting serious with this boyfriend and I.
I am afraid of what I feel for him, or even worse, what I think he feels for me.
I love and indulge in every second i spend with him.
and I miss him when he is not around...
and that terrifies me and angers me and makes me happy all at the same time.
I still shiver when he takes my hand, or kisses me,
and feel nauseous when he tells me im beautiful.
I know I am not, but I like that he thinks so.
I think that he adds to me, stimulates me in many ways
He is constantly trying to make the world a more beautiful place.
And what more could one really ask for?

Thursday, 2 August 2012

A letter to my soul

This is a lonely disease
A lonely disorder
A Fuckup of a mess.
It is funny how there is always one person that just keeps pushing you on.
Something to live for.
When that disappears
The Heavens cave in
tumble down.
Drum rolls and crashing thunder.
It feels as though life is moving on around my little insignificant world.

I think that my best friend has finally stopped giving a fuck about me.
Curtains closed
The last sad little monologue.
She is my life. My love. My sister. My soul-mate.
We have been through everything together.
She has wiped my tears,
filled my wine glass
Put up with the endless insanity.
Until now that is.
people grow older, this i understand
It is a beautiful thing
It is life
I think That I am getting all the more fantastic with age
I embrace it, when i was younger, it used to terrify me.
It is the situations i detest
Stress. Loss. Marriage.
Her and her other half are talking about the big M.
and im utterly thrilled for her,
But it is like she is trying to start a clean slate,
Starting with this blackened spot.

We had this tradition
Once a week, meet up for a glass, or ten, of wine
And catch up,
No matter how hectic our schedule, or lives
We would make time out for each other.
I guess tradition is lost,
and I am the only sad fuck left behind trying to be sentimental.

I feel like kicking and screaming like a child,
begging for some ounce of forgiveness for a crime i am not even sure i have committed.
This hurts more than any breakup ever has.

I want her to still need me in her life.
I want to be 16, fuck even 18, pissed out of brains in her bedroom,
talking about the amazing things we are going to do with our lives.
How we are going to live in NY and live in a shabby apartment,
living off tinned spaghetti and cigarettes.
finding ourselves in tears over some love lost that we will "never have back"

It is so selfish.
But fuck
I am a god damn selfish person