As I was writing the last post. Antonia called me and we sorted out our rift. I told her the ong stor of my hospitalisation; she became slighly more understanding and commended me for having the constitution to tell her. It was a difficult time.
Antonia wants to think of me as a boyfriend. I told her our relationship s not like that, we are not in a 'relationship'/ as such, but we are friends, and we are close. I can't deal with it being any more than that; but maybe, a thought in the back of my mind; I am like one of those guys who are afraid of committment.
Not so long ago, I though I was unloveable; to some extent, I still believe this. I am in the jaws of a female beast; with the oppurtunity to be hers. But its not Marie...
Marie is dropping out of her degree, she is going into another degree, or moving out to soewhere else. It means that she won't be at the university anymore, maybe I won't either. I'm scared.
Am I going to lose her?
The thought of losing Marie is too powerful for me, I couldn't bear to face a world without her; no matter how beautiful music is, no matter how lovely sunsets are, how interesting my work is and how fulfilling my academic lifestyle is....life is grey without her. Life is just....frames of time, moments of things happening, no string to put them together, no substance, A picure is just a mirror of a thing, not the majesty of the thing it depicts. Life would just be like seeing a film; distant, empty, detached, not me....I am going to have to accept in some way that Marie is going to move away. Maybe she'll meet me from time to time. But her absence is going to drain the colour from my life.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Anger and Antonia
I talk to Antonia quite a bit of late. So much so that she knows my anger about the events that happened to me. I get angry quite a bit about the whole incarceration. Apparently its not cricket to be angry. She says I'm arrogant, self-centred, hateful, and lots of other things.
I used to have this friend, Greg, well, is he really a friend? (Perhaps another post for that...), whenever someone disagrees with him, he talks to someone else with the very same thing, and if they don't agree, he just goes to someone else, he doesn't change, just the person he is trying to talk to. Maybe I am like that.
I said to Marie on Thursday night "I am a cruel person", perhaps I said it in a way that would either affirm or deny this belief, but either way, her assurance would be what I relied upon, not my own constitution or belief or reasoning. Such a dependence upon others as a source of my own self-image is a pretty bad thing. It would mean that if I were around Antonia, she, who would know about the true extent of my anger, would tell me about my cruelty. Marie, who doesn't know, would not have any belief of my cruelty.
I am cruel. Antonia said that she has had enough...so, I've lost her.
It's not the first time I've lost a possible serious relationship
I used to have this friend, Greg, well, is he really a friend? (Perhaps another post for that...), whenever someone disagrees with him, he talks to someone else with the very same thing, and if they don't agree, he just goes to someone else, he doesn't change, just the person he is trying to talk to. Maybe I am like that.
I said to Marie on Thursday night "I am a cruel person", perhaps I said it in a way that would either affirm or deny this belief, but either way, her assurance would be what I relied upon, not my own constitution or belief or reasoning. Such a dependence upon others as a source of my own self-image is a pretty bad thing. It would mean that if I were around Antonia, she, who would know about the true extent of my anger, would tell me about my cruelty. Marie, who doesn't know, would not have any belief of my cruelty.
I am cruel. Antonia said that she has had enough...so, I've lost her.
It's not the first time I've lost a possible serious relationship
Two kinds of throwup
1. The kind that makes you hate vomiting,the kind that makes you feel sad, the kind that burns, the kind that comes out of your nose, the kind that you have as a kid, or before you have an eating disorder.
2. The good kind that makes you ffeel better, and gives you a bit of strength to cope with the world...the kind where there is no acid, because you throw up so much that it is just food; the kind where you have eaten so quickly beforehand, that you can still taste the food, and even feel its warmth or coolness before the acids neutralised it.
Ah, isn't life grand!! (...not)
2. The good kind that makes you ffeel better, and gives you a bit of strength to cope with the world...the kind where there is no acid, because you throw up so much that it is just food; the kind where you have eaten so quickly beforehand, that you can still taste the food, and even feel its warmth or coolness before the acids neutralised it.
Ah, isn't life grand!! (...not)
Culinary habits of late
- Coffee - it helps my concentration and ability to focus; at the cost of anxiety and difficulty sleeping
- Rice cakes - hunger suppressant, also low cal - at the cost of more painful purgings (same goes for coffee)
- Cottage cheese - like real fatty food; but not so bad (150kcals per half tub!)
- Bananas - high energy, moderate cal
Ideal calorie target: 1200 a day (800 would be supreme!)
Calculated 'healthy' calorie intake: 2900 (given my weight, height, sex, and activity)
Realistic calorie intake: 1000-1900: 2500 may happen
Things I crave:
- Pork balls from the chinese shop
- Turnovers, or bake pastries
- Vegetarian Pizza from the takeaway
- Ice Cream
- Non-vegetarian pizza
- Cheesy pizza (but is hard occaisionally)
- Meat, the kind where you can slab it onto the pan and fry it...hmmmmmm
In my next post. I will talk about "two kinds of vomit!" I am pretty fucking bleak in this blog, because I can be. This is what I think about outside my postgraduate work...
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Another trigger
3. When I didn't get elected for the president of that university society. It was the other guy, who keeps flirting with Marie...who marie said she doesn't like.
That's quite a strong trigger. It's a recent memory, and relates to a specific event, what do I feel when I epxerience it? I'm not sure, the feeling is very strong. I don't want to think about it now for that reason; for its pain.
That's quite a strong trigger. It's a recent memory, and relates to a specific event, what do I feel when I epxerience it? I'm not sure, the feeling is very strong. I don't want to think about it now for that reason; for its pain.
My task of introspection
Earlier today, I though about a question my counsellor asks me:
What are the triggers that you have?
I couldn't answer. Why? Two reasons, firstly, I haven't thought about it that much, and secondly, I don't like to think about them, so I purposely try to avoid them. If I enter into my triggers to think about them, will it help me?
Maybe as some perverse knowledge, it would be nice to know what my triggers are...
So, I came up with two.
1. The incompetence of the NHS
2. My downfall to depression in my first year of university
obviously there are more, but as I was walking home from the library now; I remebered those two. I rembered 2. by looking at some ice lollies, they reminded me of a period of time when I used to buy ice lollies like that; that was during summer 2005, first year of university, in halls, no friends, depression started...
What are the triggers that you have?
I couldn't answer. Why? Two reasons, firstly, I haven't thought about it that much, and secondly, I don't like to think about them, so I purposely try to avoid them. If I enter into my triggers to think about them, will it help me?
Maybe as some perverse knowledge, it would be nice to know what my triggers are...
So, I came up with two.
1. The incompetence of the NHS
2. My downfall to depression in my first year of university
obviously there are more, but as I was walking home from the library now; I remebered those two. I rembered 2. by looking at some ice lollies, they reminded me of a period of time when I used to buy ice lollies like that; that was during summer 2005, first year of university, in halls, no friends, depression started...
Running after Marie
It was a society event social thingy on thursday. Marie was helping organising it; I hardly do much now that I am not the president or secretary anymore...
Okay so the day went like this; woke up feeling miserable (not entirely sure why, but I can envisage all sorts of reasons why [with my life being shitty and all]), so I woke up fairly late.. I woke up to late to do the actual reading for the seminar, but it has a lot to do that day, during the seminar I got a text from Marie. She told me that she was having a moment of distress, but I heard that I got very worried about during the seminar, so as the seminar ended, I ran out to call her
She put the phone on answer after two rings, so that must have meant that she put the phone off. I guess that she didn't want to talk to anyone. Not even me. She was too distressed to talk. I can understand, I thought of calling her again, but my better judgement said otherwise, so what I did was I gave a text message instead. I told her that she was strong, and that I wanted to do anything to help her, and I'd do her duties for the university society so that she wouldn't have to feel as much pressure and that she would do what she had to and I'd do my best to ease her burden. I was desperate to talk to her, I wanted to help her in any way that I could.
I went home, after getting no reply from her, and deciding not to wait for her, she probably wouldn't want to talk in her moment of distress. As I got home, I collapsed to sleep. I woke up some time later, quite late, given I needed to go to this event. So, I had an hour to get ready. I felt quite distressed, in my inadequacy and the fact that I couldn't come to terms with my feelings for Marie; I got drunk. Hurrendously so. My dad has given me a big canister thing of good old west country cider, so I had about 2-3 pints of that before I left. The drunkness took the edge off my despair.
So, I went off to the event, waited outside at the benches, my real reason was that I wanted to sit down and just be away from everyone; I was directing people as they came in. Then Marie came, and we talked. She gave me a text as I woke up from my 'siesta' saying that she feels better. She is so amazing, she went through so much in the day and is facing the world again with so much strength. We talked for a while, I told her that I was quite distressed so I got drunk.
As the night went on, we formed a team in the quiz, it went well, and we had a bit of a rapport, and I met some new people who were quite nice and we had a good night. Being around people and forgetting your own ego does help once in a while, pretending to be someone else and making jokes makes life a little easier.
As the quiz ended (we didn't win, but I had fun, which is hard to say in times when I am competitive...I'm the competitive type). Marie left, I was talking to a guy for a few minutes, then I decided to run off, to see Marie. Marie didn't live far, so what I did was run after her as much as I could. I caught her up, or rather, she found me running and panting.
She said to me "what are you doing?! you silly boy!" I was still panting, I went down on my knees to catch my breath, she sat down next to me on the pavement. I can't remember the exact words that were said, or the full details of what happened; but it all came out. I told her how I am worried about her, how I want her to be okay, how she doesn't have to be alone; how special she is to me, how she reflects a part of who I am; how important she is to me; how worried I get about her; and perhaps, most importantly, how I want to have her to help me.
I think she said that I am the one she trusts the most. I can't remember fully. She said lots of wonderful things about me; like how kind I am, how caring I was, which is what she said when I was (not elected) in the society election as a reason to vote for me...not a good enough reason I guess.
So, I finally got to open up to her, I told her how I felt, sitting on the floor, she held me in her arms, I declined my head on her shoulder, her tender caress comforting me, it was like a dream. Her tenderness, her care; it was as if a side of her I longed to see, I was so worried about her, I was too exhausted and distressed and drunk to actually say it, that I was more beaten up physically from the running and being drunk, that I was being tended to by her.
Marie took me home; we talked about lots of things, and she was very sweet, she held me with her arm around my waist, and she held my hand with the other arm. Perhaps I was too drunk and distressed to acknowledge the whole wonder of it. She does care about me. Marie told me that it has to be two way; that she must be there for me as I am there for her. I made her promise me, and I asked her for assurance if this was okay; I wanted her to be there, I didn't want her to go away.
As she walked me home, I talked to her about my purging. I told her I had to reach a target and it is the only thing that I can have as a positive; she forced me to promise her that I will eat. She said she wasn't leaving my doorstep until she promised I would eat. I didn't want to, I told her that that was an unreasonable demand and I really want this, I really want to purge and lose this weight. It is important and somehting I really want to do, something positive to lose all that weight.
I looked down as she asked me to promise her, she was somewhat angry, she grasped my chin with her hand and dragged my face to stare at her eye to eye. She made me promise. "For me", she said. I did it for her, because I dont' want to do it for myself. I want to purge and lose the weight, but she is making me do it. I don't want to eat! I hate eating. I hate it.
As I promised, she was about to go, but then, she gave me one last cuddle. Her hair smelled so beautiful, it felt so right, and close, and warm, and intimate, to hold her, grasp her, caress her, smell her, open up to her...
I'm not sure what is going to happen now. Now that I have opened up to her. What will come of the future?
One thing I do know, there is a little bit of relief from her knowing. I felt that night that the most important thing I held from her she now knows. But now, i feel like there is a barrier again; maybe that is just my anxiety of girls in general, or general anxiety; but Ifeel again distant from her, and a little bit distressed.
I'm not sure what the future holds, but hey; there are no guarantees in life; just a lot of unclaimable IOUs
Okay so the day went like this; woke up feeling miserable (not entirely sure why, but I can envisage all sorts of reasons why [with my life being shitty and all]), so I woke up fairly late.. I woke up to late to do the actual reading for the seminar, but it has a lot to do that day, during the seminar I got a text from Marie. She told me that she was having a moment of distress, but I heard that I got very worried about during the seminar, so as the seminar ended, I ran out to call her
She put the phone on answer after two rings, so that must have meant that she put the phone off. I guess that she didn't want to talk to anyone. Not even me. She was too distressed to talk. I can understand, I thought of calling her again, but my better judgement said otherwise, so what I did was I gave a text message instead. I told her that she was strong, and that I wanted to do anything to help her, and I'd do her duties for the university society so that she wouldn't have to feel as much pressure and that she would do what she had to and I'd do my best to ease her burden. I was desperate to talk to her, I wanted to help her in any way that I could.
I went home, after getting no reply from her, and deciding not to wait for her, she probably wouldn't want to talk in her moment of distress. As I got home, I collapsed to sleep. I woke up some time later, quite late, given I needed to go to this event. So, I had an hour to get ready. I felt quite distressed, in my inadequacy and the fact that I couldn't come to terms with my feelings for Marie; I got drunk. Hurrendously so. My dad has given me a big canister thing of good old west country cider, so I had about 2-3 pints of that before I left. The drunkness took the edge off my despair.
So, I went off to the event, waited outside at the benches, my real reason was that I wanted to sit down and just be away from everyone; I was directing people as they came in. Then Marie came, and we talked. She gave me a text as I woke up from my 'siesta' saying that she feels better. She is so amazing, she went through so much in the day and is facing the world again with so much strength. We talked for a while, I told her that I was quite distressed so I got drunk.
As the night went on, we formed a team in the quiz, it went well, and we had a bit of a rapport, and I met some new people who were quite nice and we had a good night. Being around people and forgetting your own ego does help once in a while, pretending to be someone else and making jokes makes life a little easier.
As the quiz ended (we didn't win, but I had fun, which is hard to say in times when I am competitive...I'm the competitive type). Marie left, I was talking to a guy for a few minutes, then I decided to run off, to see Marie. Marie didn't live far, so what I did was run after her as much as I could. I caught her up, or rather, she found me running and panting.
She said to me "what are you doing?! you silly boy!" I was still panting, I went down on my knees to catch my breath, she sat down next to me on the pavement. I can't remember the exact words that were said, or the full details of what happened; but it all came out. I told her how I am worried about her, how I want her to be okay, how she doesn't have to be alone; how special she is to me, how she reflects a part of who I am; how important she is to me; how worried I get about her; and perhaps, most importantly, how I want to have her to help me.
I think she said that I am the one she trusts the most. I can't remember fully. She said lots of wonderful things about me; like how kind I am, how caring I was, which is what she said when I was (not elected) in the society election as a reason to vote for me...not a good enough reason I guess.
So, I finally got to open up to her, I told her how I felt, sitting on the floor, she held me in her arms, I declined my head on her shoulder, her tender caress comforting me, it was like a dream. Her tenderness, her care; it was as if a side of her I longed to see, I was so worried about her, I was too exhausted and distressed and drunk to actually say it, that I was more beaten up physically from the running and being drunk, that I was being tended to by her.
Marie took me home; we talked about lots of things, and she was very sweet, she held me with her arm around my waist, and she held my hand with the other arm. Perhaps I was too drunk and distressed to acknowledge the whole wonder of it. She does care about me. Marie told me that it has to be two way; that she must be there for me as I am there for her. I made her promise me, and I asked her for assurance if this was okay; I wanted her to be there, I didn't want her to go away.
As she walked me home, I talked to her about my purging. I told her I had to reach a target and it is the only thing that I can have as a positive; she forced me to promise her that I will eat. She said she wasn't leaving my doorstep until she promised I would eat. I didn't want to, I told her that that was an unreasonable demand and I really want this, I really want to purge and lose this weight. It is important and somehting I really want to do, something positive to lose all that weight.
I looked down as she asked me to promise her, she was somewhat angry, she grasped my chin with her hand and dragged my face to stare at her eye to eye. She made me promise. "For me", she said. I did it for her, because I dont' want to do it for myself. I want to purge and lose the weight, but she is making me do it. I don't want to eat! I hate eating. I hate it.
As I promised, she was about to go, but then, she gave me one last cuddle. Her hair smelled so beautiful, it felt so right, and close, and warm, and intimate, to hold her, grasp her, caress her, smell her, open up to her...
I'm not sure what is going to happen now. Now that I have opened up to her. What will come of the future?
One thing I do know, there is a little bit of relief from her knowing. I felt that night that the most important thing I held from her she now knows. But now, i feel like there is a barrier again; maybe that is just my anxiety of girls in general, or general anxiety; but Ifeel again distant from her, and a little bit distressed.
I'm not sure what the future holds, but hey; there are no guarantees in life; just a lot of unclaimable IOUs
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Guy at the chinese takeaway
There is a favourite takeaway I like to go. About 4-5 roads down; there is this lovely chinese takeaway. I love to go there and get pork balls, chicken and sweetcorn soup, and sometimes the special fried rice. It's a bit pricey adn I don't have that much money to burn.
Nice comfort food.
What I feel is a penetrating jdugment frmo the man who owns the place. I go there and the guy always asks if I want more rice; or he talks to me in this somewhat impersonal, demeaning way. Why does he do it? It sort of makes me feel self conscious, makes me feel judged. Makes me feel...shit, shit like the feeling of rejection I experienced from that new president guy from that society...the kind of rejection that Marie doesn't like me.
I want to purge. But I shouldn't. Perhaps it is better punishment to just starve to death. Not going to that chinese takeaway, and the next place being 30 mins travelling makes things encouraging in a pragmatic way. But I feel so hungry...
Nice comfort food.
What I feel is a penetrating jdugment frmo the man who owns the place. I go there and the guy always asks if I want more rice; or he talks to me in this somewhat impersonal, demeaning way. Why does he do it? It sort of makes me feel self conscious, makes me feel judged. Makes me feel...shit, shit like the feeling of rejection I experienced from that new president guy from that society...the kind of rejection that Marie doesn't like me.
I want to purge. But I shouldn't. Perhaps it is better punishment to just starve to death. Not going to that chinese takeaway, and the next place being 30 mins travelling makes things encouraging in a pragmatic way. But I feel so hungry...
Essential me
- Yesterday I heard a bit from Marie. I mentioned the university society that I am involved with that I got dethroned from (well, more like a not being president thing). She (in my former position) is organising an event; it pains me so much to see her occupying the seat which I once had. I am a little bit angry; at her? not her individually, but its hard not to find expression to this feeling in a way that manifests itself towards a way that associates resent to her actions there. I then feel resent at myself for feeling resent at her; then I want to purge. Also adde dto that is the feeling of inadequacy to the guy who took president; he's better than me in every way. I am nothing compared to him...
- Before I feel a triggering occuring, I shall now ponder upon a thing that happened today. Went to the student GP. New guy this time, don't know why, it was the admin staff's decision, don't care. Okay things we talked about were: painkillers, being angry at a previous doctor cos she got my hopes up; the loser doctor saying how it makes him feel uncomfortable about hte way I am talking. I did not mean to express resentment to him in the way I did with the psychiatrists who hurt me. But, it's sort of a kneejerk thing; he's a doctor and I will treat him with scrutiny. I don't think I was able to express to thim this feeling; I tried to use polite and descriptive terms.
- The feeling I felt was that in feburary I called the GP for a doctor's note for an extension for an essay; the doctor emphasised that she could help and that she would medicate me in a way that would be helpful, trying to assure me. Funny enough she was the first doctor who I contacted when this whole mentalhealth ordeal started. Do I feel anything about it? No, well, maybe just that I found her partially sexually attractive; now I don't care. I don't care if doctors are good. They are supposed to be! They are Doctor's not GNVQ holders or Magisters. I only get rattled if they are not doing their job
- Went to counselling today; told the guy about my ordeal. I was talking and talking and talking. The thing I like aobut counselling is that I can swear and stuff. And I also elaborate, in a way that makes it presentable to a stranger, or a person not familiar with my biography, a story about me, and what is happening with me, from scratch. I used to fantasise, during times when I was in great pain, what it would be like to explain the whole workings of my life in a way wherewhich a stranger would come to know me. I would be, as the narrator, in a priviledged yet potentially biased situation; I tell the story of my life in the way that I want to; I keep control of the world I try to pain when I tell them the story; I emphasise some things and maybe even ignore others. I can make my life seem as unreasonable as possible, or overblow it.
- I guess that is something I like about the role of the narrator. I like blogging in this blog because it is a diary for me; my other blog is more about my academic studies and topical issues. But the thing I found was that after I established a highbrow academic tone; I couldn't cry. Furthermore, I'm public about who I am in that blog. Here, I am anonymous. I am conatus. All my baggage about my academic life (which I must say, is important to me), is lost in this blog; this is perhaps a better way.
- I think that in the world of expression sometimes deception is important. I don't tell you about my academic thoughts or what certain intellectual figures, movements and such mean for me; I just want to express myself. Yes, my work is a big part of me, and indistinguishable from my real life self. But to understand the persno is to go into many different layers, many of which are inter tangled and artificially seperated. Perhaps the reality is in the mix, the confusion. The life we live is that of being in angst; constant angst.
- Moving back to the biography of my day; the doctor seemed to emphasises this component of the cnosultation where it was important for a two-way relationship where I would seem not to be so belittling; I said 'anyway...' and continued on about the treatment plan. I will not acknowledge his weakness; I will not acknowledge him as a man. This man felt so pathetic, he was old; an old man who was past his day. He was feeble, the kind of person I could crush with my mind. I represent youth and verility, the furore of intellect, he represents the last of the summer wine, the one foot in the grave, and other such quaint English shows (Dad's army, anyone? :p).
- I feel like a small victory is made; this man was an elderly doctor; clearly a man of exerience, but lacking in intellect; but i'm sure that makes him a better GP to treat people; but not a good reasoner. I learned today that I feel an exhilaration from challenging people bigger than me. I'm like the opposite bully. I am going to help the small guy by fighting the big guy.
- I sometimes can be the little guy...its important to help out the little guy...In my fit of anger to this doctor. I try to rmember where the real me is in all of this? Am I the academic? Am I the angry passionate youth? Am I the suffering bulimic? I am all, and yet, none of these things; where is the real me beyond all the archetypes: where is the pure, essential me?
Monday, April 21, 2008
June 28th 2007
At least, I think it was June 28th.
I was told on Blackboard, an internet university teaching thing, that I got an upper second. Seeing my student examination candidate number on the list under "Upper Second". It was a moment of joy, of relief, of success, yet of only lukewarm success. I was meant for a first when I was doing my A-levels; I was seen as that kind of guy; but I never lived up to the hype that was made around me. I disappointed myself...I guess, that is the source of my depression.
Another source is this; my inability to make friends in my first year.
I just remember this now; cos I am using google calendar to do odd jobs that I have planned, and at 1am I am just doing a backlog of things. And I am sifting through my old online diary...
Odd...
Its a revelation, after college in 2004; university wasn't the life that I hoped it to be; i didn't have many friends and go out clubbing and did crazy things; nor was it the academically gruelling yet rewarding life of success and toil and intelelctual discovery....it was disappointment and regret, failure and not living up to the standards I set, and the standards of society of being a uni student.
Life is so much different now...with being a postgrad, and purging...should I say now that things have improved?
(silence)
I was told on Blackboard, an internet university teaching thing, that I got an upper second. Seeing my student examination candidate number on the list under "Upper Second". It was a moment of joy, of relief, of success, yet of only lukewarm success. I was meant for a first when I was doing my A-levels; I was seen as that kind of guy; but I never lived up to the hype that was made around me. I disappointed myself...I guess, that is the source of my depression.
Another source is this; my inability to make friends in my first year.
I just remember this now; cos I am using google calendar to do odd jobs that I have planned, and at 1am I am just doing a backlog of things. And I am sifting through my old online diary...
Odd...
Its a revelation, after college in 2004; university wasn't the life that I hoped it to be; i didn't have many friends and go out clubbing and did crazy things; nor was it the academically gruelling yet rewarding life of success and toil and intelelctual discovery....it was disappointment and regret, failure and not living up to the standards I set, and the standards of society of being a uni student.
Life is so much different now...with being a postgrad, and purging...should I say now that things have improved?
(silence)
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Things that make me anxious
- Wanting to leave in the pub/conversation/phone call social interaction
- Talking to my lecturers in the department
- Marie
- Remembering being rejected from being president in a university society...relates to feelings about Marie; and that also makes me want to purge
- Organising uni work
- Organising life
- Thinking about money
- Thinking about life after my Masters
Saturday, April 19, 2008
48
Okay; I purged again.
Note to self...learn to say no; don't eat too much, and find food that is low in cal but high in appetite filling...quorn is good.
Note to self...learn to say no; don't eat too much, and find food that is low in cal but high in appetite filling...quorn is good.
Thursday night/friday morning
A night of sexual discovery with Antonia.
She is quite wonderful; but I am still in love with Marie; and she knows that. She said what we do is just 'playing'. I like it, we are intimate; she says I am a gentle and considerate lover.
I am going to list the kinky things that I have done:
I still feel quite low as well...so now I know...sex doesn't bring happiness!
She left her underpants in my room, as I just found now...i sniffed them, and...I felt a bit nauseous, it has a very very strong vaginal smell!
Anyhoo, now that I've gotten up early. I might as well get on with the academic work...
She is quite wonderful; but I am still in love with Marie; and she knows that. She said what we do is just 'playing'. I like it, we are intimate; she says I am a gentle and considerate lover.
I am going to list the kinky things that I have done:
- Penetration
- Oral (on me and her)
- Handjobs for me
- Fingering for her
- Fingering clit and G-spot to orgasm
- Wax play
- Tying me up
- Blindfolding and feeling me up with soft and varied texture things like velvet
- Putting her finger in my bum
- Playing with my bum with a vibrator
- Rimjob
- Sideways penetration
- On top
- Missionary
- From behind
- Nipple sucking
I still feel quite low as well...so now I know...sex doesn't bring happiness!
She left her underpants in my room, as I just found now...i sniffed them, and...I felt a bit nauseous, it has a very very strong vaginal smell!
Anyhoo, now that I've gotten up early. I might as well get on with the academic work...
Thursday, April 17, 2008
The punishment of the fifty
I've decided to be proactive and aggressive about my weight loss.
Assume every vomit will lose me 1lb. I will vomit 50 times which should (hopefully) represent a loss of 50lbs. My current weight is 178.6 lbs.
Last week it was a glorious 162.2lbs. So I put on 15lbs? FUCK! That's like the weight of a whole baby.
49 purges to go.
Perhaps this is the only positive I have in my life
Assume every vomit will lose me 1lb. I will vomit 50 times which should (hopefully) represent a loss of 50lbs. My current weight is 178.6 lbs.
Last week it was a glorious 162.2lbs. So I put on 15lbs? FUCK! That's like the weight of a whole baby.
49 purges to go.
Perhaps this is the only positive I have in my life
Friday, April 11, 2008
Favourite foods (before purging)
Before I started purging, I used to have a relationship with food.
I loved Mackie's double cream ice cream. God that was lush.
I love cod and chips
I love £5 pizza and chips from the local down my road.
I love pork balls from the cchinese shop
I love chicken and sweetcorn soup
I love burger king bacon double cheeseburgers with king fries,
I love mcD's burgers, KFC chicken, ribs from the takeaway, apple pie, chicken kebab, I love milkshakes, BBQ wings, garlic dip from dominoes, pizza crust with cheese inside, fried bread, bacon, sausages, pork scratchings, skips, quavers, calamari rings and lamb shish.
I am learning one positive thing from purging. I am learning to say 'no' to those foods. Its gradual, and not complete. but I'm getting there.
Hopefully, one day...I'll be skinny and beautiful.
I hope that if I am more attractive then I will finally have someone who will love me for who I am, who I love back, and will accept me and be my best friend.
Probably not though, but better to be thin and alone, than fat with no chances.
I loved Mackie's double cream ice cream. God that was lush.
I love cod and chips
I love £5 pizza and chips from the local down my road.
I love pork balls from the cchinese shop
I love chicken and sweetcorn soup
I love burger king bacon double cheeseburgers with king fries,
I love mcD's burgers, KFC chicken, ribs from the takeaway, apple pie, chicken kebab, I love milkshakes, BBQ wings, garlic dip from dominoes, pizza crust with cheese inside, fried bread, bacon, sausages, pork scratchings, skips, quavers, calamari rings and lamb shish.
I am learning one positive thing from purging. I am learning to say 'no' to those foods. Its gradual, and not complete. but I'm getting there.
Hopefully, one day...I'll be skinny and beautiful.
I hope that if I am more attractive then I will finally have someone who will love me for who I am, who I love back, and will accept me and be my best friend.
Probably not though, but better to be thin and alone, than fat with no chances.
Fat days
Lots of people back in the 90s talked about 'bad hair days'. Now that my hair is longer, I don't have bad hair days; my hair looks lovely, especially that it is messy and curly; it sort of suits me I feel, to have messy thick volumous curly thick hair. I feel quite attractive about my hair. But its my belly I don't like.
Body image is a constant dialectic of feeling fat and feeling thin. Today, I'm having a fat day. Some days, I wear my sleek black tight crewneck shirt and walk down the street. I see how lots of the guys are quite fat. I feel like if I were thinner, maybe I would get more female attention, apparently any personality that I do have isn't good enough for them.
I feel fat. One thing I sometimes do is look in a mirror, and inflate my belly (by pushing my diaphram or whatever out as far as I can; then I push it in as far as I can. I'm imaginging one of those adverts on informercials where the guy is fat and then he is lean. If I push myself out as far as I can, I look to myself and say 'this is what I am'. I see whether my most fattest is acceptable. Sometimes it is, my tummy when I push it out looks quite alright, quite normal, even when I make myself look fat.
Pushing it in, however, is another issue; I feel ambivalent about that, I care about 'not being fat'. I don't care about 'being skinny'.
I do feel like I don't want my big shoulders to go away. I like that I have wide shouders. People used to say I had wide shoulders, I thought either this was a genuine trait of me, or it was something that came about by me being fat. I am investigating the legitimacy of this claim in my extreme slimming.
I'm lonely, I MSN'd Marie yesterday (twice, actually) she didn't reply. I feel a bit low.
I thought to myself, could there be any other girl that could do it for you? Its hard to think of anyone who could be as wonderful as Marie....
So I guess I'm stuck then. Fuck...
Still, I'll try to remain optimistic. One step at a time...
I do kind of just want to cry a bit, I wish I had a shoulder to cry on, if I did, I'd probably ruin the moment by wondering if iit was a wide or slim shoulder structure of the person.
Academic work i'm very behind. Kind of not in my thoughts right now...just the fact i look fat.
Body image is a constant dialectic of feeling fat and feeling thin. Today, I'm having a fat day. Some days, I wear my sleek black tight crewneck shirt and walk down the street. I see how lots of the guys are quite fat. I feel like if I were thinner, maybe I would get more female attention, apparently any personality that I do have isn't good enough for them.
I feel fat. One thing I sometimes do is look in a mirror, and inflate my belly (by pushing my diaphram or whatever out as far as I can; then I push it in as far as I can. I'm imaginging one of those adverts on informercials where the guy is fat and then he is lean. If I push myself out as far as I can, I look to myself and say 'this is what I am'. I see whether my most fattest is acceptable. Sometimes it is, my tummy when I push it out looks quite alright, quite normal, even when I make myself look fat.
Pushing it in, however, is another issue; I feel ambivalent about that, I care about 'not being fat'. I don't care about 'being skinny'.
I do feel like I don't want my big shoulders to go away. I like that I have wide shouders. People used to say I had wide shoulders, I thought either this was a genuine trait of me, or it was something that came about by me being fat. I am investigating the legitimacy of this claim in my extreme slimming.
I'm lonely, I MSN'd Marie yesterday (twice, actually) she didn't reply. I feel a bit low.
I thought to myself, could there be any other girl that could do it for you? Its hard to think of anyone who could be as wonderful as Marie....
So I guess I'm stuck then. Fuck...
Still, I'll try to remain optimistic. One step at a time...
I do kind of just want to cry a bit, I wish I had a shoulder to cry on, if I did, I'd probably ruin the moment by wondering if iit was a wide or slim shoulder structure of the person.
Academic work i'm very behind. Kind of not in my thoughts right now...just the fact i look fat.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
April, 2004
Just now, I have been playing the piano.
I am reminded of the old days. Most of teh small parts of my playing remain in my mind, as if the music and practice was engraved in my soul.
The passionate side of me, the emotional side. The rational side, the calulative and determined side. The man, and the woman, combined into one, in music, I was complete, unified. Perfectly expressing me.
I remember the old things from back then. I was playing some Chopin just now, and I even remember the mental 'post it notes' of things to remember when I was playing; small markers to reflect the notes, that i associate with my life at the time. SO I called this one part the 'vivienne passage'.
Why did things change? I used to ask myself that for two years after then, then I was so terrified by anxiety the past faded away. Now, I am living in the moment. It took a long time...
I am improving. But like I say always. One step at a time. But I am making steps forward, maybe not as big as I wanted, but hey, its something.
I am reminded of the old days. Most of teh small parts of my playing remain in my mind, as if the music and practice was engraved in my soul.
The passionate side of me, the emotional side. The rational side, the calulative and determined side. The man, and the woman, combined into one, in music, I was complete, unified. Perfectly expressing me.
I remember the old things from back then. I was playing some Chopin just now, and I even remember the mental 'post it notes' of things to remember when I was playing; small markers to reflect the notes, that i associate with my life at the time. SO I called this one part the 'vivienne passage'.
Why did things change? I used to ask myself that for two years after then, then I was so terrified by anxiety the past faded away. Now, I am living in the moment. It took a long time...
I am improving. But like I say always. One step at a time. But I am making steps forward, maybe not as big as I wanted, but hey, its something.
Coming home, and the piano
I came home today from university.
Coming home used to be very depressing. There used to be anxiety about leaving the city, because, well, all things that were organisational on occaision, gave me anxiety. I felt the overwhelming weight of the world and the pressure to have a future, and the many inadequacies I had come down on me.
I thought a more successful man would have a girlfriend, would have nice looks, good grades, money, he wouldn't be going on the bus like a loser, but would drive in his car! Well, I kind of like the bus now. Especially as it means I can think while sitting on it, and just stare; it also costs like £1 sometimes.
When I used to go home from university I used to listen to some song; it represented a 'leaving the city' song, or 'coming home' song. The song always represented the moment I was in, and I wwas very attentive when I listened to it. The song represented a moment for when I returned to listening to it as well.
So; anyhoo, that was how things used to be, and now, I never thought I could say this, but those dark days of the undergraduate past, although not to say I don't have dark days, are over.
Walking home, it used to be familiar thing. Now I just dont care. I feel detached now, I'm a stranger in my own home city.
When I got home, I was just lying down a bit, following that, I randomly got an idea. What if I got the manuscript for a song and then played it on the piano? The song was While your lips are still red, by Tuomas Holopainen.
I haven't played the piano properly in 4 years. I printed the sheets out from the internet, and then, I sightread. I noticed there were imperfections:
1. My fingers were insenitive to the touch, partly due to RSI and lack of practice. I could feel those two factors seperately and distinctly.
2. The manuscript had inappropriate time signatures and poorly written: I then realised that my sight reading school is still inside me
3. The harmonic structure of the song itself was lacking, it was just using primary and secondary chords! No chromaticism, or even dissonance, I decided to spice it up by making french 6th chords, and inputting 7-6 suspensions -- that means my music theory knowledge is still inside me.
I realised as I played, that there is this part of me, a part inside me that yearns to still play the piano. Yearns for that kind of expression that I used to have, feeling warm and captured by the music that I play....
I returned briefly to that part inside me today; then I lost concentration and motivation and suddenly got tired. I guess things are different now...but those were wonderful days.
Maybe it was the piano that gave me balance emotionally...
I'm still not ready to return to it...
I used to feel empty when I returned home to find I have left an old life behind. I have a new life now, and a new body and self--image. The piano was deeply loving to me, it was like a girl that I loved, but not a person, an ideal of expression, of my own self discovery and introspection.
I need to search deep inside myself; academic work doesn't express who I am fully in the way piano used to...
Coming home used to be very depressing. There used to be anxiety about leaving the city, because, well, all things that were organisational on occaision, gave me anxiety. I felt the overwhelming weight of the world and the pressure to have a future, and the many inadequacies I had come down on me.
I thought a more successful man would have a girlfriend, would have nice looks, good grades, money, he wouldn't be going on the bus like a loser, but would drive in his car! Well, I kind of like the bus now. Especially as it means I can think while sitting on it, and just stare; it also costs like £1 sometimes.
When I used to go home from university I used to listen to some song; it represented a 'leaving the city' song, or 'coming home' song. The song always represented the moment I was in, and I wwas very attentive when I listened to it. The song represented a moment for when I returned to listening to it as well.
So; anyhoo, that was how things used to be, and now, I never thought I could say this, but those dark days of the undergraduate past, although not to say I don't have dark days, are over.
Walking home, it used to be familiar thing. Now I just dont care. I feel detached now, I'm a stranger in my own home city.
When I got home, I was just lying down a bit, following that, I randomly got an idea. What if I got the manuscript for a song and then played it on the piano? The song was While your lips are still red, by Tuomas Holopainen.
I haven't played the piano properly in 4 years. I printed the sheets out from the internet, and then, I sightread. I noticed there were imperfections:
1. My fingers were insenitive to the touch, partly due to RSI and lack of practice. I could feel those two factors seperately and distinctly.
2. The manuscript had inappropriate time signatures and poorly written: I then realised that my sight reading school is still inside me
3. The harmonic structure of the song itself was lacking, it was just using primary and secondary chords! No chromaticism, or even dissonance, I decided to spice it up by making french 6th chords, and inputting 7-6 suspensions -- that means my music theory knowledge is still inside me.
I realised as I played, that there is this part of me, a part inside me that yearns to still play the piano. Yearns for that kind of expression that I used to have, feeling warm and captured by the music that I play....
I returned briefly to that part inside me today; then I lost concentration and motivation and suddenly got tired. I guess things are different now...but those were wonderful days.
Maybe it was the piano that gave me balance emotionally...
I'm still not ready to return to it...
I used to feel empty when I returned home to find I have left an old life behind. I have a new life now, and a new body and self--image. The piano was deeply loving to me, it was like a girl that I loved, but not a person, an ideal of expression, of my own self discovery and introspection.
I need to search deep inside myself; academic work doesn't express who I am fully in the way piano used to...
Monday, April 7, 2008
Appearances changing - but what is permanent?
After the night with Antonia; and after a little photoshoot I did with my friends, I feel quite positive about my body.
1. I have bought these new vests (size S) I look quite nice in the tight vest
2. Antonia has waxed my back - she said it was a nice gesture of bonding...she's a good friend :)
3. The photoshoot we did with my friends make me look quite sexy. I almost live my own life in the eyes of others; that who I am is defined by how they talk of me...that is true to a point (that point being my identity as 'academic' - which is from inside me, my innermost self)
4. My tummy hurts a little from purging today. I only did a little bit, mind.
5. I am 162lbs today. That's like 10lbs less than when I did it last time. I should be at the target of 140 pretty soon :) (maybe 2 months)
6. Question is...will I continue purging below 140lbs? Marie said that that's just an excuse for me to currently purge, and I won't be able to stop it even if I reach my target weight...that it will control me. I feel like she understands this, because she goes through similar pain. I trust her because of that, and I feel connected to her because we are so similar at heart...
1. I have bought these new vests (size S) I look quite nice in the tight vest
2. Antonia has waxed my back - she said it was a nice gesture of bonding...she's a good friend :)
3. The photoshoot we did with my friends make me look quite sexy. I almost live my own life in the eyes of others; that who I am is defined by how they talk of me...that is true to a point (that point being my identity as 'academic' - which is from inside me, my innermost self)
4. My tummy hurts a little from purging today. I only did a little bit, mind.
5. I am 162lbs today. That's like 10lbs less than when I did it last time. I should be at the target of 140 pretty soon :) (maybe 2 months)
6. Question is...will I continue purging below 140lbs? Marie said that that's just an excuse for me to currently purge, and I won't be able to stop it even if I reach my target weight...that it will control me. I feel like she understands this, because she goes through similar pain. I trust her because of that, and I feel connected to her because we are so similar at heart...
[because there are no words]
Saturday, Antonia came over to say; I was doing her a favour as she was in town.
We talked a little on IM about it; she was quite excited. Through the day up to the point she came over, I wasn't thinking about her very much, but she was nontheless in my thoughts, just little things like my errands, I cleaned up he room for her and thought about buying special food for the night.
So, I went to collect her to tkae her to my place; we got a pizza, she was holding my hand while we were walking, and I met a friend from Grad school when we buying wine. This colleague of mine was quite surprising, what I mean is that I was surprised to see her in the part of the city that I was currently in; I associate her more with the university precinct.
Another thing was that I was in my personal mode, rather than my academic mode; people in grad school know me as the historical all-rounder guy, the guy who has a very specific specialist area, but knows lots of other stuff too; also a little shy, but friendly with the over-macho guy, Dick C, which most people must find odd.
Anyhoo, I lost face a bit because I don't want people in grad school to know I have a life outside the books; mainly for my own security, I don't want them to find out about my 'issues' (purging, depression, anxiety, shyness, sexual frustration, body image issues, fears etc.).
When I came home with Antonia; we talked, then, I guess a lot of firsts happened that night...
I perhaps shouldn't say what I did; I have been thinking about it. You see, even though this blog is candidly me, what I experienced was so personal, so intimate, so unique. Even if I told you, perhaps it could not be captured of the fundamental subjectivity and 'this'-ness of the moment.
My first kiss? It was kind of by accident. I was kind of holding out, I didn't really want to kiss, although my body wanted it, my heart kept thinking of Marie. Antonia, in part knew that this was he case, but she also knows that its very difficult with Marie; that I hardly hear from her and, there is an undeniable sexual attraction between myself and Antonia; she kept assuring me that this was okay, that we both want it in some way and just to ejoy the moment. All there is is now, she told me. Just see it for what it is, she said. Try not to over-intellectualise it.
My first kiss.
I should say, I'm a little dissappointed with what kissing is like. And, yes, I did have sex with her. It was very much a 'one thing led to another'.
Sex?
I am not sure. It was so wonderful engaging in the physical intimacy, and the emotional bond that we did have, even if I didn't feel as strongly about it as she. I did it mainly to pleasure her, to make her feel good; I felt so overwhelmed by it, it made me feel special, wanted, beautiful; she constantly told me how gorgeous I was.
We went on for quite a while, I, apparently am quite good at pleasing her. I was worried about the bed creaking too much, and her screaming a lot. I feel so overwhelmed, I was good at having sex? This seems most most unbelievable, I was in constant disbelief the whole night, i felt like I detached myself from my body and was just seeing it all as if it was someone else, my actions motivated by a desire to please her, my touch motivated by my care for her, but still, I felt this emptiness, this detachment, I know what joy feels like; joy is when I am in a research seminar and I am understanding something, joy is the mutual learning of others under my words when I talk about my work to them, joy is the reading I do in the library and my dreams to become an academic.
Joy is my self-discovery as the man I want to be. I did not feel much of this self-discovery in sex; even if i 'learned' about myself a little.
Although I made her orgasm many times...I wasn't able to...
What the hell?! I have no Idea why; she said it was because I am used to stimulating myself, and letting go to someone else is different and they need to get used to those things that I desire.
I kind of feel like I am cheating myself by talking about this in the blog. But, you don't know who I am, and I really need to express these thoughts and feelings of mine. Although I don't want to shout in the rooftops (I feel a little dirty, actually), my life has changed forever.
Although she was very good at touching me, very beautiful, very sensual, and most of all, very sensitive to me, I fulfilled her fantasy, her desire, but mine are hardly even close to fulfillment...my dream of beoming an academic and returning the world to those academic golden years when people invented mechanics and economics and political philosophy.
My dream doesn't involve my own happiness; for what an empty persson I would e if I were to desire the state of the world to fit my own wants; no, i want the world itself to improve. I am reminded of my first conversation with Marie; we talked about changing the world, we both agreed about a lot of things. She used to say "Stop agreeing with me!" and smiled...
I love her.
But maybe this experience has taught me, there is more to the world than what I want. Maye I can try to live without romantic love, and seek my own innermost desire of academia, the innermost joy and delight of learning.
We talked a little on IM about it; she was quite excited. Through the day up to the point she came over, I wasn't thinking about her very much, but she was nontheless in my thoughts, just little things like my errands, I cleaned up he room for her and thought about buying special food for the night.
So, I went to collect her to tkae her to my place; we got a pizza, she was holding my hand while we were walking, and I met a friend from Grad school when we buying wine. This colleague of mine was quite surprising, what I mean is that I was surprised to see her in the part of the city that I was currently in; I associate her more with the university precinct.
Another thing was that I was in my personal mode, rather than my academic mode; people in grad school know me as the historical all-rounder guy, the guy who has a very specific specialist area, but knows lots of other stuff too; also a little shy, but friendly with the over-macho guy, Dick C, which most people must find odd.
Anyhoo, I lost face a bit because I don't want people in grad school to know I have a life outside the books; mainly for my own security, I don't want them to find out about my 'issues' (purging, depression, anxiety, shyness, sexual frustration, body image issues, fears etc.).
When I came home with Antonia; we talked, then, I guess a lot of firsts happened that night...
I perhaps shouldn't say what I did; I have been thinking about it. You see, even though this blog is candidly me, what I experienced was so personal, so intimate, so unique. Even if I told you, perhaps it could not be captured of the fundamental subjectivity and 'this'-ness of the moment.
My first kiss? It was kind of by accident. I was kind of holding out, I didn't really want to kiss, although my body wanted it, my heart kept thinking of Marie. Antonia, in part knew that this was he case, but she also knows that its very difficult with Marie; that I hardly hear from her and, there is an undeniable sexual attraction between myself and Antonia; she kept assuring me that this was okay, that we both want it in some way and just to ejoy the moment. All there is is now, she told me. Just see it for what it is, she said. Try not to over-intellectualise it.
My first kiss.
I should say, I'm a little dissappointed with what kissing is like. And, yes, I did have sex with her. It was very much a 'one thing led to another'.
Sex?
I am not sure. It was so wonderful engaging in the physical intimacy, and the emotional bond that we did have, even if I didn't feel as strongly about it as she. I did it mainly to pleasure her, to make her feel good; I felt so overwhelmed by it, it made me feel special, wanted, beautiful; she constantly told me how gorgeous I was.
We went on for quite a while, I, apparently am quite good at pleasing her. I was worried about the bed creaking too much, and her screaming a lot. I feel so overwhelmed, I was good at having sex? This seems most most unbelievable, I was in constant disbelief the whole night, i felt like I detached myself from my body and was just seeing it all as if it was someone else, my actions motivated by a desire to please her, my touch motivated by my care for her, but still, I felt this emptiness, this detachment, I know what joy feels like; joy is when I am in a research seminar and I am understanding something, joy is the mutual learning of others under my words when I talk about my work to them, joy is the reading I do in the library and my dreams to become an academic.
Joy is my self-discovery as the man I want to be. I did not feel much of this self-discovery in sex; even if i 'learned' about myself a little.
Although I made her orgasm many times...I wasn't able to...
What the hell?! I have no Idea why; she said it was because I am used to stimulating myself, and letting go to someone else is different and they need to get used to those things that I desire.
I kind of feel like I am cheating myself by talking about this in the blog. But, you don't know who I am, and I really need to express these thoughts and feelings of mine. Although I don't want to shout in the rooftops (I feel a little dirty, actually), my life has changed forever.
Although she was very good at touching me, very beautiful, very sensual, and most of all, very sensitive to me, I fulfilled her fantasy, her desire, but mine are hardly even close to fulfillment...my dream of beoming an academic and returning the world to those academic golden years when people invented mechanics and economics and political philosophy.
My dream doesn't involve my own happiness; for what an empty persson I would e if I were to desire the state of the world to fit my own wants; no, i want the world itself to improve. I am reminded of my first conversation with Marie; we talked about changing the world, we both agreed about a lot of things. She used to say "Stop agreeing with me!" and smiled...
I love her.
But maybe this experience has taught me, there is more to the world than what I want. Maye I can try to live without romantic love, and seek my own innermost desire of academia, the innermost joy and delight of learning.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Something I found on Wikipedia
I wonder how much this fits to me...it rang a bell when I read it...it even reminds me of Marie...I don't think I have' bullimia'; I am not a doctor so I don't have the credentials to diagnose myself. How would I feel if there was a name for what I was going through? I felt this way 3 years ago...the word they told me was 'depression'...was it appropriate a concept? To this day I question it...they don't answer me anymore
[Bullimics] are more pessimistic, more ambivalent towards others, strive for less recognition in areas that are socially significant or require leadership. Many bulimics, like anorexics, binge eaters and others with eating disorders, at one time were considered over-acheivers, highly intelligent and true rising stars among their peers. Yet, bulimics eventually become so consumed by food and/or weight that they, like anorexics, binge eaters and other individuals with eating disorders, have little time for the normal ambitions they once had.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
The new me
I keep a few photos in my google account; google has this picture storing service called "Picasa". I have kept various photos; when I graduated, relatives visiting etc...
One thing that I keep is a gallery of pictures of me. It dates back to 2004. The first picture is from my last day of college. Later pictures include me during the first year of uni, some of the second, and a lot of the third.
It goes like this
2004 - weight neutral, short hair
2005 - medium hair (depression beginning), weight eventually goes up
2006 - anxiety period, longer hair, weight neutral, but gain weight in the summer (due to stronger medication) -
2006-2007 (before my masters) - getting fatter and fatter...look ugly
2007-present day...losing weight consistently.
As I looked at the pictures of the past, I thought to myself: I am so ashamed of how fat I used to be. I hope no one finds out of this shame.
My current dress trends are that I wear as revealing and tight clothes as possible. This makes more sense because in the past, I used to dress to hide my fat.
I used to wear a dress shirt to hide the fat, wear blazers, wear thick long jackets, and wear black,
I still wear black, and long jackets, but now I want to have it in small size.
I do feel better about my body. Maybe it doesn't count as an eating disorder, cos things are actually getting better, in terms of my looks.
I still have more work to do. I want to be maybe 9-10 stone, or 140lbs
I see how people dress, and I wonder if it correlates to their weight. What kind of clothes do fat people wear? for instance. I think there isn't a clear line of distinction as I want to make. I guess I have been around people who do not dress with the same correlations that I make.
There is one guy (I mentioned him in a previous post); who I lived with in the past. We were good friends, and now we are in grad school now. I always felt comfortable with him, and I thought to myself that we were the same size, so I felt comfortable. What I found, however, was as I slimmed down, this man who I saw as 'the same size as me' is now looking exceptionally fat, and ugly to me.
I think I was blinded to him. Not only that, this guy encouraged me to eat unhealthily, and he forced me to leave parties and made me feel bad for making new friends and meeting new people. I think he's a guy I don't want to be around.
I am constantly worried about selling out, I guess I cannot corrupt my personality if I am isolated from the world.
I suppose you, the reader, don't notice how much more recluse I am from the world; or perhaps, you suspected I was recluse all along...
On the other hand, things have changed. Antonia is coming to stay the night with me. There might be sex. I'm a virgin. She loves me. I don't love her, I love Marie.
One thing that I keep is a gallery of pictures of me. It dates back to 2004. The first picture is from my last day of college. Later pictures include me during the first year of uni, some of the second, and a lot of the third.
It goes like this
2004 - weight neutral, short hair
2005 - medium hair (depression beginning), weight eventually goes up
2006 - anxiety period, longer hair, weight neutral, but gain weight in the summer (due to stronger medication) -
2006-2007 (before my masters) - getting fatter and fatter...look ugly
2007-present day...losing weight consistently.
As I looked at the pictures of the past, I thought to myself: I am so ashamed of how fat I used to be. I hope no one finds out of this shame.
My current dress trends are that I wear as revealing and tight clothes as possible. This makes more sense because in the past, I used to dress to hide my fat.
I used to wear a dress shirt to hide the fat, wear blazers, wear thick long jackets, and wear black,
I still wear black, and long jackets, but now I want to have it in small size.
I do feel better about my body. Maybe it doesn't count as an eating disorder, cos things are actually getting better, in terms of my looks.
I still have more work to do. I want to be maybe 9-10 stone, or 140lbs
I see how people dress, and I wonder if it correlates to their weight. What kind of clothes do fat people wear? for instance. I think there isn't a clear line of distinction as I want to make. I guess I have been around people who do not dress with the same correlations that I make.
There is one guy (I mentioned him in a previous post); who I lived with in the past. We were good friends, and now we are in grad school now. I always felt comfortable with him, and I thought to myself that we were the same size, so I felt comfortable. What I found, however, was as I slimmed down, this man who I saw as 'the same size as me' is now looking exceptionally fat, and ugly to me.
I think I was blinded to him. Not only that, this guy encouraged me to eat unhealthily, and he forced me to leave parties and made me feel bad for making new friends and meeting new people. I think he's a guy I don't want to be around.
I am constantly worried about selling out, I guess I cannot corrupt my personality if I am isolated from the world.
I suppose you, the reader, don't notice how much more recluse I am from the world; or perhaps, you suspected I was recluse all along...
On the other hand, things have changed. Antonia is coming to stay the night with me. There might be sex. I'm a virgin. She loves me. I don't love her, I love Marie.
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