Eugh

It's come to light that I have severe food allergies.
Cool.

Did you know about this wonderful thing? pt. 2

CIAO BELLA GELATO



it is the tastiest thing ever
Thank you and good night.

Wazzupwitdat?

So.
Chinese diet tea.
Wu-Yi or whatever it's called.

What's up with it? Every time I drink it I throw up.
It's not like it's particularly un-tasty.
With some honey, it's quite good. But, like, what?

The weird thing about me is I'm heat-sensitive.
If I eat something hot, I have a moment of free floating depression. If I'm in a room with the heat on, I'm uncomfortable and irritable.
Maybe hot Wu-Yi makes me throw up?
I know hot tomatoes do that to me. I can't stomach them for the life of me. Don't ask me why.
But it's what I imagine brains tasting like.

Saw The Unborn last night. And honestly, it's worth seeing.
It's got nazis, ghosts, demons, zombies, exorcisms, and camel toe.
Seriously. Lots of camel toe.

I bought a lot of asian candy yesterday. The packaging makes me smile.

i can pay all my own debts
i can rip off my own tights
i can humiliate myself to your face
i can weep through my own midnights
(hello from eau claire)

Must be a devil between us (for Zeke)

I keep going back and forth with this.
I think what I'm going to do about the Zeke situation is just leave it alone for a few months and hope he changes.
He's changed a lot since I first met him.
He takes a lot of things too seriously. He's no fun for me to be around anymore because he's lost the witty, awkward charm that made me want to know him in the first place. I mean, it's still there, I just never see it anymore. His sense of humor has changed from doing stupid, funny things to "Never let me run when I'm high!" which I guess would be funny to me if I actually had the same juvenile pleasure from pot that everyone else seems to get. He treats me like a burden now. And he does certain things to go out of the way, it seems, to make me uncomfortable, i.e. Me: "Remember that time when [insert memory here]" Zeke: "Remember that time when...oh wait, you weren't there." I keep my mouth shut most of the time when we hang out. Every time I say something, he shoots me down (Also, quoth him "Shut up, be quiet, stitch your fucking mouth closed or something" I'll have you know, that made my cry when I read that.)
It's painful. I haven't been through this since about 5th grade, I was elated to be past that point.
I know I've done annoying things but I'm making an earnest attempt to get better and stop hurting myself.
Not for you, Zeke, not for Jesse, not for Mary, but for me. I know you hate to hear about this, but getting over the disease I've had since I was a kid is the hardest thing I've done. I talk about it so much because being thin has been my only raison d'etre for years. You don't understand, and I wish you did, because I'm sure you could help if you did.
But you're too busy being "happy" with your new-found friends who's only concerns involve how high they can get. If that's what you want, fine. I am happy for you. I'll miss you, and I hope one day you'll come back to me. Because if you do, you will come running in to open arms. You are a good person. You're a confused person, though, and a mean, mean little bitch of a boy when you want to be.
I remember you said to me once that things were going to change when Emanuela got back. I knew you were right, it just made me sad. Things changed for the better at first. We had parties, fun times, things were nice. It is pointless to give examples of the nice things, because our jokes are no longer funny to you.
You were my safe haven. If I wasn't inebriated, you were there to laugh with me.
The week Jon was here was honestly one of the best of my life, because of you. I remember so many things fondly about you. But you've changed, and shit happens.

The title of this entry is taken from the song "Hey" by Pixies, which reminds me of you. More specifically, Christmas with you, Jesse, and Alec, and sitting in your living room listening to that song and talking with hushed voices about punk rock music, drinking your wonderful "strangely good" creation of wine, coke, and ginger ale (I think that's it.)

I'm sorry I write about you so much, but you were a big part of my life for a good 7 months or so. This is my last entry about you.

I want to try again.

I'm done hating Zeke.
Like, I really really hated him for a while there. Things are still kind of awkward but I really missed him. It came to me when the bums who have a mini living room set up on the sidewalk were watching Thundercats and it gave me a slight tinge of longing. Then, I heard the words "snarf snarf" and almost cried because I missed him so much.
Ironically, I had seen him earlier that night (by complete accident, no less) when I was out with some friends. It wasn't as horrible as I expected, although when they told me he was meeting up with us, I got really nervous.
*Let me clarify that I have no feelings for him other than a friend. And I was nervous about seeing him the same way I would if my other best friend (Mary. Who is a girl.) had been in an intense stand-off and it was my first time seeing her.

I've been looking in to taking classes at community college to get my GED. Even though I don't really want to be a professional ANYTHING when I'm older, it would still be a nice thing to have on a job application. And I don't like joining the statistic of high school drop-outs who never got their GED.

Obama is our president now. It's official. And for the first time ever, I want to refer to my president as "MY president" and not by last names.

I remember the day that the Phillies won the world series. I had forgotten this, but it was the day I got out of treatment. Zeke and I bought a big bag of candy corn and hung out at the park and ate half of the bag and threw the rest at each other and my little brother. That night, the IMs and phone calls and Facebook wall posts and horn honkings came simultaneously and my mom and I went out to Broad St. and for the first time in months I had a soda and I couldn't help but smile.
This is relevant because it was the same situation when Obama won, sans the candy corn and getting out of treatment.
This country is finally beautiful to me and I think I might seriously consider patriotism for the first time in my life.

I have a new friend. He goes to school with my ex boyfriend, which is in Wayne, which is a half-hour train ride away. It's worth it though, in my opinion.
We hung out last night and sat at Starbucks and talked for a good hour and a half or so before he walked me back to the train station. It sounds a bit lame, but it was really surprisingly nice, circumstances considered. We've gotten really close really fast, but I don't mind it, as he is a good person, and not quite what I'm used to in people that I know.
He gave me a little red star badge that I'm wearing as an earring because it's so nice and fits perfectly.

I pierced my nose the other night, as well as my cartilage and two more holes in my ear. I think I've become a germophobe because I suddenly have all of these new orifices to keep clean.
I regret nothing.

(Obviously I prefer rings to studs.)

He's back.

And the second I saw him my arm started hurting, like a heroin injection.
Why isn't he dead yet?
Why can't he just go away and stay there?
My mom says she won't let him back in
But we all know how that turns out.

Night of the Living Dead

My nightmares (save for anxiety dreams) are exclusively about zombies.

Now, I'm not completely petrified of zombies like some people. When I'm awake, I'm fascinated with them. I love zombie movies. I love zombie comics. I have two copies of the Zombie Survival guide (one actually belongs to my brother). But nightmares about them are scary.
The fact that, when I have them, they're always really realistic is probably a large factor. The fact that I can feel my back against a door and them pounding, trying to get in (and succeeding), and how I can feel dead flesh dripping off of rotting bone grabbing at my leg, and occasionally, warm dead mouths biting down on me.

Needless to say, I have harrowing nightmares

Sleepover with Gabby tonight. I am ridiculously excited.

I also like The Cure. Please don't make fun of me.

But for now, we are young, let us lay in the sun and count every beautiful thing we can see

I made another collage box.
This time, there really was no intent purpose, I just really felt like making one. Collages are ridiculously therapeutic. And it gives me a sense of accomplishment seeing the cute things I can do.



I've been keeping my stationary/stickers/etc. in there until I figure out something else to put in it. I would put jewelry in it, but I don't really have enough jewelry to necessitate a box.
The bottom of the box was all fucked up so I put some furry red zebra print fabric in the bottom to make myself feel fancy.
God DAMN I love Mod Podge.

I wish I could stay up all night all the time. It gives me a strange accomplished feeling. And I like talking to people on said all-nighters. It makes it quite a bit more fun.
I kind of like being manic. It's going to stop soon because I'm on a new mood stabilizer that makes me sleepy so I have to take it before bed. But being manic, for the first few days, is nice, especially on weekends when people don't have classes in the morning and can stay up and be manic with you.
I've learned that I like being alone. I used to be really afraid of being alone but I think with everything that's happened the past few days, I've come to embrace it and learn to live with it and still be productive.
And I'm not even entirely alone. My old friends are my new friends. I've made some new (really new-new, not old-new) friends. And I'm getting along with people now without lashing out.
I'm fine with not going out at night anymore. Because right now, I'd much rather be sick at home watching Dr. Strangelove and making cute crafty things. (Now you know my plans for the night)

I've decided to pierce my nose. And get a cute little ring, not a stud. I like rings better.


Have I ever told you about Matthew?
He's my brother, one of three. He's two years old right now. But is it weird that when I look at him I just want to have deep, intellectual conversations with him?
I think he's the second coming of me.

I've grown 5 years in a day

Have you ever just woken up one morning and realized that everything you thought, everything you felt, everything you assumed you knew, was different?
I finally let go of those who hurt me.
Zeke and I are over. It was a whirlwind friendship full of running from authorities, sneaking back home late at night, parties filled with sex and drugs and rock and roll. And now it's over. Which is alright. Because things change. And maybe when I'm better I'll change my mind and things will be fun again. But he's unhealthy for me because he makes me so mad I can't see straight.
Zeke, if you're reading this, I don't harbor any bad feelings towards you. I just need you to get away from me.

The shapeless romance I had with Jesse is over. And I was hurt at first, but it's really okay now. It's not a big deal. Maybe someday it'll matter to me again but right now it doesn't and it's nice.

I commissioned one of my dearest friends to tutor me on everything I never learned in high school. So I can go to college next semester.
I love Gabby. I love her so much. She fills my heart up with nothing but pure love and I just wish I could show her how much she means to me.

I realized that one day, I want to grow up and have a baby. Is that ridiculous? I think when I get my shit together I'd be a really good mom. I've had a maternal instinct ingrained in to me from the time when I was very small.
Maybe I want to get married, too. Weddings have always been the most exciting thing ever for me. Even if it doesn't last, it'd still be a fun party.

I have a friend who's been in my life for years. I think since I was about 10 or 11. And we'll go through intervals of not talking for months, and then talking every night until the wee hours of the morning (I remember once we talked from about midnight until 7 AM). I think we dated briefly somewhere along the lines, but it's never felt like such. At any rate, he called me the last time I was in MA, having a bit of an identity crisis. I talked to him for hours, and I forget the context, but he told me spontaneously that I was wise, well beyond my years. And that has always stuck with me.
I may not be very smart, but if anything, I am wise.


I'm eating again. It's not very much right now, but I'm eating again.
And since I've stopped purging, I've gained back a good 10 or 15 pounds, which is fine.
I think I'm manic depressive right now. I feel strangely happy and content and I stay up all night doing productive things.
When I went to see the doctor, she advised my mom to keep the meds she prescribed away from me, because "if I take too many, I could fall asleep and not wake up". Basically, she put me on suicide watch.
Which I understand, but I promise I'm not suicidal. I'm optimistic. Slightly manic at the moment, but optimistic.

Words can't speak as loud as actions, but keep this as an update on my progress.
I will get better, and I shall come out of it all the more wiser.


P.S. If anyone who follows my blog has any information on the ED support group at St. Julien Rose MSW in Plymouth Meeting, please send it my way. I was referred to them but I can't find any information about them online. Cheers.

P.P.S. Nico does a really nice cover of "I'm Not Sayin'" by Gordon Lightfoot (I think). I highly recommend it.

Hello from Eau Claire

Hi!
I have adenovirus! I'm really really sick! I don't want to get out of bed until I'm all better!
I have pills that do the same thing as Benedryl called Vistaril and they're really pretty.
They look like Steve from Blue's Clues' sweater. It's just to take the symptoms away until I'm better so I won't need that many and I want to make earrings out of them.
I'm sad right now but everything's going to be okay soon. Everything works in circles. I've been sad before. I'm going to be happy again soon (I promise this isn't a metaphor for suicide, I'm just kind of happy right now.)
I'm not going to die when I'm 30
I'm going to get old old old old old
And save everyone.
I gained a lot of weight back since I've been sick but it's okay, I don't care. I'm not afraid of it anymore because it happens.


I wish I was three years old again!