some thoughts, i.
5/26/16, 6:19p
Today I’ve eaten 1000 calories, and I’m worried I’m going to end up binging in the evening after a day of doing nothing, mitigating whatever progress I’ve made in reducing the weight and size of my body.
It’s completely within my control if I make the decision to shove more food into my mouth. I just need to keep in mind what I want to prioritize in my life.
On the back of my left hand in pen there’s some letters;
> DNEB
> PPDW
I wrote them last night in a fit of anger to function as a reminder as to be more mindful with my consumption. Obviously, they’re hateful.
> Do Not Eat Bitch
> Piggy Piggy Dumb Whore
I’ve never had sex, so calling myself a whore was really a moment of both internalized misogyny and also self loathing.
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The decision to write those two acronyms was completely within my hands, and yet not. It was an emotional, hate-filled action done on the spur of the moment. In this moment, as the temporarily-tattooed hand of mine is moving across my laptop keyboard, I feel like I’ve slowly risen from the depths of the swimming pool — disoriented and confused about my previous actions and motivations. Or that I’ve awaken from a weekend long bender, or whatever.
Yet, the 8 letters are keeping me from rising from where I sit to snack on popcorn, and drive me to ingest more of the Aspartame-Free-Diet-Pepsi that sits beside me.
Today it stormed throughout the midday and afternoon, breaking apart the hot sun that had greeted the morning. I was a bit disappointed, as I wanted to work on my quickly developing tan by lounging out in the backyard.
(Truth be told, it’s less of a lounge and more of a dance with the risk of developing melanoma as I never wear sunscreen.)
Right now I look more like a half-toasted marshmallow. But, it’s just really uncomfortable to bare the underbelly of my arms to even it out. Plus, I think the pseudo-farmers tan I’ve got going on is a little charming, in it’s own way.
I owe the public libraries 30 dollars, so I must’ve not returned a book at some point in time. My friend checked out ‘Helter Skelter’ for me, so I have to return this copy for him, otherwise he too will owe 30 dollars.
I stole a book in 5th grade that dealt with anorexia, and my sister stole it from me and read it. I think it lead to both of us developing EDs.
6:50 p, a.v.
