WHY CAN I NOT MAKE AN LJ-CUT???  The laptop is dangerously close to being thrown into the street, and my dog keeps looking at me like I've lost my mind. 

I've done it before, long long ago, and had no problems with it.  I can't get it to work on the Semagic client that I use to post with, or with the LJ-cut button on the rich text editor, or just by using the html.  What am I doing wrong?  ARGH.

Omg y'all, I'm getting married in a week and a half!!

!!!!!!

Oh my god. I totally cannot take the eating disorder thread being revived over on the OMB. Some of the comments being made are just so fucking triggering. And I can't make myself stay away.

I talked to my photograper today about engagements and bridals. I think we're going downtown to the old railroad tracks for the engagements, which will be pretty cool. He likes to work in your interests/hobbies for the bridals. Like, my BF is having hers done in a gym since she was a gymnast all through high school and college. I told him, umm, I don't actually have any hobbies or anything like that. He said, well, what do you like? "Books." And we're going to do my bridals in a LIBRARY with BOOKS and Joey is going make so much fun of me but SQUEE I am so excited!

Tuesday is my last day of classes, and I'm off for two weeks. I'm going camping with the family and fiance and puppy. I really need the break. I would be happy to do nothing by lay around the house the whole time, honestly.

I am so disgusted with myself, for reasons I'm not comfortable even broadcasting over LJ. These are valid reasons that I'm entertaining, and all I can do right now is transfer the disgust for my thoughts and actions into disgust and hatred for my body. Oh my god. And this has nothing to do with my body, and it's just so fucking fucked up that all I can think to do is make it about my body. I think it's the only way my mind can deal with anything.

I've been doing well, managing so much better than I thought I could. It's been hard. And this...I just can't think reasonably right now. I want to starve and exhaust and beat my body into submission so badly that I'm shaking right now. I want to run or I'm going to go fucking insane, and of course I'm not going to be allowed to because of the fucking thunderstorms and fucking tornadoes.

There are endless punishments (and rationalizations) speeding through my mind. I need an escape button.

I don't think the realization that I'm so screwed up has ever hit this hard before.

Um. I did not know that it took SO DAMN LONG to get a passport. How was I suppsed to know this?! Oops. And since I haven't bothered to replace little things that were lost in the fire like, oh, you know, my BIRTH CERTIFICATE and SOCIAL SECURITY CARD, it's going to take even longer to obtain the passport. So I have to get a birth certificate so that I can get a SS card so that I can a passport.

kslslakghlaKghdfkhljd;a.

Weddings are bad, bad things. I'm so regretting not just having a tiny beach wedding. Also my mom has nicknamed me "Photo Nazi." Silly me for being concerned about one of the most important and lasting parts of my wedding days.

And my future mother-in-law booked our rehearsal dinner at a steakhouse with almost no vegetarian or vegan options. I do not eat meat. She has known this for years.

I Know It's Over - Jeff Buckley
Because this version is so much prettier than the original (which is still great!).

I'm so tired of these feelings of inadequacy and doubt. I could have nothing to do with an issue, and I still feel like it's somehow my fault. Which is very self-centered, I know.

I know I shouldn't feel this way...but I can't help but think that if I could just have a little bit of control, if I could just weigh X pounds, everything would be fine. I KNOW that's ridiculous, but I can't help it and I can't make the conviction go away. So what am I supposed to do?

I've been on a lovely regimen of energy drinks and diet pills. Jordan, a sweet boy who works at the restaurant on the weekend, picked up my Redline today and said, "you know this is a heart attack in a bottle, right?" Before I could compose a reply, "At least I'd be skinny when it happens" slipped out of my mouth. Oops. But I love that nervous energy those drinks give me.

Joey's all watching what I eat, but he's more concerned about my not eating meat than my not eating at all. Well, he doesn't know how much I eat during the week since he has night classes. But on the weekend it's all, "maybe if you ate a steak you wouldn't be so tired/weak/cold." What's fucked up is that I think he sees puking over a toilet as more safe and accectable than just not eating. He played several sports in high school, but he was an excellent wrestler, and they had terrible eating and exercising habits. I mean, the coaches would encourage them to purge before stepping on a scale if that would help them meet that weight class they were aiming for.

Grah. My head is just all in a jumble today.

My friend's husband just called me a godhater. Because I refuse to go to a Baptist church.

When I pointed out that there's a difference between God and organized religion, he told me "that's what Satan wants you to think."

...

And this all started because somehow the fact that I like Hillary Clinton means I need to attend church.

I hate Alabama sometimes. Though this is kinda sorta funny.

So here's the thing. Why try to get "better" when I'm miserable either way? I know that I should want to get better and heal and blahblahblah. But I honestly don't want that anymore. (Did I ever?) I tried to want it. I tried to make an effort. I felt worse. I was still unhappy, and I also felt fat and on my way to fatter.

I did fairly well over the holidays. I ate indiscriminately, and there was only one episode of purging. And an incident on Christmas day where I spent about two hours trying on clothes and crying in a heap on my floor.

I've gained weight. Between trying to develop healthier habits and new birth control I've gained ten pounds. Which is HUGE on me. HUGE. I can't even look at myself in the mirror right now. I don't want to go out when I feel like this, I don't want to dress up and put my body on display, and I don't want anyone to look at me or touch me. I don't want to touch my own body. I don't want to be in it. I don't want it. I feel absolutely worthless and god, I just can't stand it.

One of my New Year's resolutions was to eat healthy and ease my way into veganism. Took less than a week to screw that one up. My version of veganism is an excuse to eat pretty much nothing. I started out okay, eating what vegans are supposed to eat to stay healthy. Didn't last. For me, it turns into viewing everything as a poison that I can't put into my body.

You know what I want? (This sounds terrible and I'm somewhat ashamed of it.) I want to be a "good" anorexic. I don't want to have my fingers down my throat all the time. I don't want to work and work and work and obsess and puke my guts out and still fuck it all up and never get the end results that I want. I just, I don't know. I just want to be skinny. I don't want to have to stare at a muffin for half an hour, debating what to do with it. I don't want to finally cave and eat it, only to end up in the bathroom throwing up and sobbing. I just want to not eat it. To not want to eat it.

This quarter is kinda bad for me. It's stressful on my part; so many tough classes and higher speeds and longer days. But Joey has night classes, so it's incredible easy for me to engage in whatever bad eating habits I want and to hide it. One part of me is celebrating, and another part wants to smack him hard for not being here to help me and to take care of me. Which is ridiculous.

Ugh. I have all kinds of self-hate going on. And I don't understand myself. I do not get how I can know what I'm doing and be so aware that it's wrong and still want it and still do it. How can I just ignore that part of me? It's disturbing.

But really. My body. I don't think I've ever, ever hated it so much. And there's been a lot of that in the past. Something has to be done. I don't think anyone can understand how much I literally want to crawl out of my body. It's there and it's disgusting and I'm always aware of it.