It is so damn warm here.. So, I just found a blog of an "anorexic" girl.. At least, that's what her name says. Her blog title is something like "Starvation diary" bur in Romanian. She weighs too much to be anorexic. She'd have to be 6'6" tall to reach a BMI of 17.5, so yes, she is definitely not "truly" anorexic. Despite that, she's only just started her blog, so I have no idea of her background. I don't know if she's ever been anorexic, but she sure as fuck wants to be. If I find she's a wanna, I don't know.. I'll either stop commenting or post negative comments, but hopefully she's not a wanna. I have already left her a comment in which I told her what "awesome stuff" eating disorders come with, she might not give a damn fuck, but I somehow give a lot of fuck about people who are trying to "catch" an eating disorder that will make them all shiny and pretty and get them thrown in the pool by Chad (hat off to anyone who knows what I'm talking about.)
Yesss, ramble over. I had a therapist appointment today. We came to the conclusion that my parents are somewhat stupid for humiliating me in public. Then we came to the conclusion that it's good to let go of him. Theeen, we somehow came to the conclusion that I'm not doing "all this stuff" to be thin.
I could write an entire book on that. It's not for being thin, definitely, because I know damn well that throwing up and taking lax (this is my 3rd day off them!) won't make me thin. So, if I know this, why don't I "just stop"?
Because I fucking can't and am not ready to let these go. The therapist said it's all about my feelings that I need to get out, about the way I censor myself way too much, about the control people want to keep me under and the way I want to escape that control.
I don't necessarily fantasize about being thin. I fantasize about "being dead, so fucking dead, like a corpse.. white skin, tired eyes, not being able to walk or breathe or speak or concentrate or even live. Ashes, ashes.."
It's a little weird, I know.. "Why in the world would you or anybody else wanna like that?"
Don't ask me, ask the other me, ask my schizo imaginary friends, my bipolar rats, the homicidal monsters under my bed, my paranoid brain and my cannibal tongue and teeth. Mwhahahaha.