Melancholy is such a pretty word.

"I don’t know if rape jokes encourage rape culture. I don’t care. You still shouldn’t tell..."

Sun, 29 Apr 2012 12:03:10 -0500

“

I don’t know if rape jokes encourage rape culture. I don’t care. You still shouldn’t tell them.

Statistically, if you have told a rape joke to a group of more than five people, one of the people you told it to was a rape survivor, possibly of multiple rapes. They will not necessarily disclose this to you; rape apologism is endemic in society and most rape survivors are cautious about whom they tell. Some may even be too ashamed of their rape to admit it to anyone, or because of rape-minimizing narratives like “men can’t be raped” and “I consented to oral, so I couldn’t have been raped” may not admit it even to themselves. The fact remains: if you’ve told dozens of rape jokes in your life, then you have almost certainly told a joke that minimizes or trivializes rape in front of a survivor.

And if you put as your Facebook status “I totally raped at Halo today” for your two hundred Facebook friends to see, statistically, you have just reminded thirty-three people of one of the worst experiences of their entire lives.

To describe how well you did at a video game.

Good job!

”

-
An Addendum, On Rape Jokes. (via transformfeminism)

This week in prose, and the cycle of bulimia.

Sun, 29 Apr 2012 12:02:10 -0500

This week was wretched. Every day I would wake up, go to school, come home, eat, throw up, nap, wake up, eat, throw up, maybe even do it again before bed. Take that routine, pepper it with about a shazillion little lies to caulk the cracks and quell the suspicions, set it on a loop, and that was my week.

My first reaction to that is the natural one - that this is a truly horrific way to live one’s life. Hours of feeding the rapacious, ravenous demon that has possessed me, then doubling over and heaving violently into a plastic bag, a sink, a toilet, a cup, as if the demon itself is forcing my head down. But that’s not even the end of it. Oh, the carnage. So much detritus, collateral damage. The wrappers, the silverware, the tissues, the towels, the vomit. Such an ugly reminder, such an interruption of how you’ve glamorized or romanticized your own self-destruction.

Then there’s the reaction that so frightens my parents, friends, doctors, therapists, and the small, underdeveloped part of me that wants to change. This reaction is not natural; it is the reaction you only have when your perception has been distorted by the virus eating its way through your brain, screwing little lenses on your eyes that turn the world into a heaping pile of psychedelic mush. It is the reaction that tells you, Congratulations. I am proud of you. You are such a good girl. It coos at you, lauding your “self-control”. What self-control?, you think. I was never in control, you were. And it will smile, and let its lips curl into a razor-sharp snarl, and knowingly tell you that that is control.

And the problem is, a part of you believes it. A part big enough and influential enough to let it happen again, and again, and again, and again.

You know you're getting to be a pretty serious bulimic when you have over 2 gallons of vomit hidden in your room, just from the past 4 days.

Sat, 28 Apr 2012 12:08:00 -0500

The barf currently hidden in my room, about to be thrown out:

- 5 tall drinking glasses

- 2 bin liners

- 1 large, full-size trash bag with several puke-loads in it

…that’s not even counting what went down the toilet and sink.

I'm still in the throes of my ED, but my depression has passed.

Tue, 17 Apr 2012 16:13:15 -0500

I take this as a good thing, but in the absence of depression my new “clarity” has made me aware of several things:

Wanting to hurt myself makes less sense now that I’m not incredibly depressed. I want to enjoy life, but this desire is contemporaneous with the drive to pursue thinness. And in my ED journey, I have not only pursued aesthetics, but poor health as well. Yes, I have pursued poor health, and even I think it’s illogical! But the feeling is taking precedence over the logic, and it always has in mind vs. disorder.
I still have unresolved insecurities about whether or not I am loved, by whom, whether I ever will be, etc.
Purging is no longer tied to an emotion. I’m numb when I purge. I have accepted it. This is both concerning and thrilling to me. Now, bingeing is different. And let me say, I have had a better grip on the bingeing. But when I do slip, damn, I feel horrible.
While it was real at the time, and very intense at that, the melodrama of my depression was ridiculous. No longer do I dramatize/glamorize/rationalize my behaviors. They are what they are, and I will (attempt to) present them justly.
I haven’t felt the need to cut myself in a while now. As in about 2.5 months or so. I welcome this, but I also feel guilty, like I SHOULD be cutting myself. Obviously if I haven’t given in yet, it’s not too overwhelming of an urge.
My behaviors/thoughts are not godly at all. I should have rejected this stuff a long time ago. It’s not what God wants for me, what Jesus wants for me, what my parents want for me. I’m glad I can at least recognize this, but I still struggle with the thought of actively recovering. I still don’t feel deserving. But I have taken heed - what I am doing is NOT in align with what Jesus would do or have me do. :\

Oh, and I still think falling in love and most of all, BEING LOVED, is one of the only things (if not the only thing) that will ever motivate me into true recovery…

What I've eaten today:

Mon, 16 Apr 2012 17:29:18 -0500

Breakfast: 150 cals

Greek yogurt, approx. 1/2 c: 60 cals
Weetabix crumbs: 30 cals
Coffee w/ Sweet ‘n’ Low, 2% milk: 60 cals

Lunch: 185 cals

sandwich thin bread: 100 cals
ham slice: 35 cals
avocado slice: 50 cals

Snack: ~800 cals (binged…and purged D:) / maybe 300 cals retained, not sure how to factor in purges, though

approx. 1 c mixed nuts: 680 cal…OHHHH NOOOO!!!!
1 banana: 120 cals

I have to eat dinner because I have family visiting, and I don’t want to purge because I already have a pounding headache from purging the nuts and banana from my binge. I don’t know how much was retained from the nuts, but in a conservative estimate I’d say I got up about 2/3 of what I ate. That leaves snack time as a little less than 300 cals.

Counting the purge: 635 cals so far

Not counting the purge: 1135 cals so far

I plan to eat a dinner of 200 cals or less, so…

W/ snack purge: 835 cals for the day

W/out: 1335 cals

While I would much prefer the 835 count, I’m pretty sure my daily burn from living is equal to or greater than 1335. I plan on doing calisthenics later today.

Hopefully tomorrow is better…

My intestines hurt from purging. And my stomach lining burns. Blechhh.

Mon, 16 Apr 2012 17:17:47 -0500

And oddly enough, I feel like I deserve this. Even though I know I don’t.

not that my 3 followers care, but I haven't cut or purged in 3 days

Mon, 16 Apr 2012 17:14:57 -0500

^Reblogged from www.c-u-t.tumblr.com

Congrats, girl! I care. Just hold on to whatever helped you get through these past 3 days~

Update: It's been a while...as in 6 months.

Mon, 16 Apr 2012 16:42:44 -0500

Hello,

Last time I posted here was October 5, 2011. Sheesh! A lot has happened since then.

Since then I’ve had periods where I binged/purged twice a day, everyday
My longest run without binge/purging was 30 days, if I’m not mistaken
Since the above record, I have been bingeing and purging regularly
For a while I didn’t feel too severely sensitive about my body, but now, what can I say? Back to square one…
I recently recommitted myself spiritually, noticing how far I had strayed from the convictions God and my parents taught me. While I am improving my behavior, and trying to set a good model for others, my private life is still deplorable.

——————End ED stuff———————————————————————————-

In other personal matters…

I had a good guy friend that I liked…then loved…and he said he loved me, too. We had a few great, really intimate moments. After one particular instance in which we discussed our relationship, its potential, etc, he asked out a mutual friend…the very next day. The rejection hurt enough. What’s worse is that this new love of his looks about 40 lbs thinner than I am. My self-esteem has been more than a bit affected.
I have actually been more emotionally stable, though. I still experience moments of intense melancholy, but as a whole my days are neutral. I am able to enjoy more things more intensely. Thanks, lexapro! (Heh, I kid.)
My mother and I have repaired out relationship from HELLISH to the best it’s ever been since I was a little kid. The secret: she started taking lexapro, too! Haha…true story, dude. True story.
I am moving across the country! This I am excited about. I’ve wanted to live in this particular state for so long. I look forward to new beginnings there, though I know wherever I go, my problems go.

Well, that’s all that I can think of now. Other than small things like getting another dog. I don’t think I’d be alive if it weren’t for my sweet dog #1…ahh, she’s my bestest friend in the whole wide world. And my parents. Whoo, I am such a dork. Heh.

Hasta la vista~

P.S. I do plan on posting here more regularly. Expect introspective entries, musings, updates, chronicles, etc.

I’m told I’m pretty. Everyone says I’m so smart - I do seem to know an awful lot....

Wed, 05 Oct 2011 22:52:49 -0500

I’m told I’m pretty. Everyone says I’m so smart - I do seem to know an awful lot. People supposedly like my style - I receive what I think are compliments.

But I guess none of these things are actually true, because few people actually want to listen to me.

Warning: Triggering Post

Wed, 05 Oct 2011 22:19:01 -0500

MUHWAHAHAHA.

I finally took the time to figure out and disassemble a shaving razor.

The cuts are so clean and so deep.

I have a question for my fellow crazies on Prozac!

Tue, 20 Sep 2011 19:20:08 -0500

Every time I sleep, I wake up drenched in sweat. Gross, huh? It’s not even because I’m hot. I just sweat. For no apparent reason.

Has anyone else on Prozac experienced this?!

You said you need encouragement, and I just wanted to say that you should just breathe and take a glass of water then lie down, if you are trying to not purge. If you want to purge, then I would do it rather than sitting there in even more self hatred thinking about what that food will make your body. After you purge, or if you don't just drink, breathe, relax and don't try and cut back tomorrow or this week. Tomorrow IS a new day, you will make it through. If you are in recovery, good luck! :)

Mon, 19 Sep 2011 16:18:45 -0500

Thank you. =)

Portugal. The Man rocks my invisible socks.

Sun, 18 Sep 2011 21:44:16 -0500

Portugal. The Man rocks my invisible socks.

Does anyone know any really encouraging, motivational songs?

Sun, 18 Sep 2011 20:57:00 -0500

I need a song that’ll make me feel more motivated to achieve, to overcome, make it through this, etc.

I’m sort of looking for a song with the bottom line, “screw you, world, I will win!”

Sort of like Eminem’s “Not Afraid” but without all the nasty references, like the part about the dude with his dick in the dirt. That mental picture just kinda ruined that song for me.

It can be any genre, any time period.

Preferably clean, like I mentioned earlier.

Oh, and NO TAYLOR SWIFT, MILEY CYRUS, SELENA GOMEZ, DEMI LOVATO, ETC. PLEASE. NO.

Thank you. =)

so anxious right now...

Sun, 18 Sep 2011 20:40:47 -0500

anxietythings:

my medication isn’t working…

i have major tremors and i’m tingling

Dude, same.

It’s hell.

I need encouragement, stat!

Sun, 18 Sep 2011 20:33:07 -0500

Oh my God. I just had a really freaking bad binge. Food…I can’t even think about it. It looks disgusting now. I can’t believe I did this. I HATE THIS.

I have to stop.

I’m freaking out here…ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Food is involuntarily coming up my esophagus.

I hate BULIMIA.

Screw you, Mia.

I can't do this anymore. I NEED HELP. No more bulimia, please!!!

Sun, 18 Sep 2011 20:21:32 -0500

I am ready to tell my parents that in spite of the outpatient treatment and 3 months clean, that I’ve been bingeing and purging like crazy for the past 2 weeks.

I thought I could fix it myself. I can’t.

I am ready to kick bulimia’s ass.

…but I still want to be thin…really thin.

I’ll get there WITHOUT Mia.

I really hate how you can go, say, 100 days clean, and then you mess up just one time, and it's back to 0 days.

Sat, 17 Sep 2011 22:00:10 -0500

succumbtothevoices: seems so appropriate ^Well said.

Tue, 13 Sep 2011 22:26:08 -0500

succumbtothevoices:

seems so appropriate

^Well said.

Well, this only happens…every day. My poor...

Tue, 13 Sep 2011 19:43:39 -0500

Well, this only happens…every day.

My poor “friends”. Sucks for them.