I'm looking out at the reservoir water, just watching the little waves roll into the small beach, feeling the cool air and listening to them roll in.
I don't think I feel much. Just staring at the flames of the bonfire we started and trying not to calculate how many calories there are in each beer I drain.
I fake dropped my brat in the dirt so that my dog could eat it and not me.
Don't worry, I had like six marshmallows to make up for it.
It's beautiful here, though.
My stepbrother is playing in the water despite it being only 68 max at the moment. Cold front rolling through the Midwest and all.
To tell you the truth, my thoughts are bouncing between feeling like I don't feel anything and how that upsets me, my stomach and how it looks with my legs pulled up, beating myself for eating, and the fact my good friend is sitting next to me and I can't help but feel like he's more than my friend, my happy ending, but I can't let go of my current ending.
I really hate myself.
I know I'm going to smell like camp fire smoke when I get back and I love it.
Reminds me of all the times we went when I was younger. Before things crumbled further.
There's something about listening to the water roll in, the chill of the wind, and the warmth of the fire that blazes that makes me feel comfortable.
My hair has gotten long since this time last year and I love the way the wind takes it perfectly.
Slithering over my shoulders.
I've got inches to go.
I watch his fingers as they grab his beer. He plays the guitar as well as our favorite metal artists.
Pride, even though he isn't mine.
I hope he thinks I'm beautiful and I hope he notices the way my eyes look so green today.
Quiet. What are you thinking that for?
I'm not staying tonight. This is because I'm working out in the morning. Thank God he's here and has to go back (a convenient excuse to drive home.)
There's only so much self hatred a person can take.
Sometimes I wonder if this is part of the human experience, that feeling we don't belong anywhere.
It is, of course.
I'm so naive.
The eternal optimist.
Negative for a day or two at a time then back on hope's soap box.
I believe every word of it too, except if it pertains to me. Or the circumstance. I'm not immune, truly. No matter what, because hope is real.
Lately I've come to believe I exist for the soul purpose of loving others but not being loved.
Serving but not allowing others to do for me.
What sense does that make?
To tell you all the truth, sometimes I feel like I wasn't meant for anything. That sounds so out of place for me. Too out of place, actually.
"You haven't ridden in my new car!" my friend exclaimed last night.
We drove it to the next town over. I took one hit and was stoned. And thoughtful.
There were a few houses falling into ruin and I thought to myself, I wonder if the houses that have seen the most sadness fall into decay?
But we're all decaying.
Slowly. Rapidly. At whatever pace our frantic hearts allow.
There is no true atrophy for the soul. It always goes in some direction.
No matter if it's fading or igniting.
Two nights ago I sat at the table with my dad and asked if I died if he would have to pay for my loans since he cosigned them for me.
That was a mistake.
"So even if I'm in a car wreck and died, say, you would have to pay for them?"
...pause..."Yah, they would default to me since I cosigned."
...cheerful.."Well, I better not die then!" All smiles. Just a joke.
That leaves me screwed for accidental death, unless I win the lottery and can pay off my college loans.
Maybe I wouldn't feel so guilty about living if I was doing something "life worthy."
I love my job, I really do. I make dessert, do food prep, and am a dietary aide for the elderly.
One man took six of my cookies. I felt honored.
My only true passion in life is helping people, that's why I chose counseling.
If I'm not at the gym or work I don't really know what to do with myself.
Who am I?
Feel so empty.
I strayed from God for a bit and now I find myself praying fervently at times to fill the hole.
He always lets me know things will be okay, but I doubt.
That, or I'm afraid of the pain that will take to get there.
Trust and faith.
Those things are hard to do.
I fear pain so much.
Why? I've been so resilient to it. So numb.
I know someone will tell me that these feelings will pass. It's what I would say because it's true.
I keep feeling reassured in the fact that my design was to self-combust.
I'm fallible, everyone.
The heart tries to stay strong to nourish the soul.
I keep hoping I'll have a heart attack on the treadmill though.
I eat too much for that.
I'm going back to the 600 calories a day plus gym goal.
We'll see how it goes.
Something inside me says I let people down by admitting I'm going to do everything in my power to go back to restricting tighter again.
I just feel so empty every day..
I feel so conflicted about the unconditional love from my friend, patiently waiting, and my current relationship.
I just want to be bone and leave it up to God if I should die before I wake.
"Don't do it."
Don't tell me that.
I know the risks. The psychology behind it. I know.
My counselor even told me the last time I was in a year or two ago that I had great insight, I just needed to do the doing part.
Where is my flame?
Was it a lie? I didn't think so. Maybe it's just hazy now.
The crazy feeling is coming back though. The need to weigh everyday and lose. Restrict. Burn. Purify.
Who am I? Not this girl, I think.Or I am, but just struggling.
But why do I think about death like I'm worthless and it's simple, the logical end? Not because I want to commit suicide, not because I want to die. No, just Russian Roulette with God. Just seeing if I deserve a punishment for nothing in particular. Existing maybe.
Crazy. That's what I sound.
In between something.
Just please don't think I'm pathetic.. I know I am..
"If I should die before I wake, I pray thee Lord my soul to take."
Begging.Doing everything I can to make a difference and be successful and then finding out if I really am worth a life. Because I don't know if I was meant to be the one that is supposed to be married happily with kids, a career, all that.
I wonder with horror if I'm the example.
No one should be ungrateful for the life they were given and I take it for granted. Still I will press on. Don't you worry.
Every day I fear failure, a loveless marriage, never committing to God like I need to, failure.
125. Can I do it? We'll find out.
Burn it out.
Make me not need this life anymore.
What do you fear?