Song on Repeat...

Be a good girl
You've gotta try a little harder
That simply wasn't good enough

I'm such a fucking wreck...

So it's show week... and I'm fat and disgusting.


I'm only allowed coffee in the morning and maybe some cantaloupe at night after classes...


I need to go tanning every day this week. And workout. Gym and pilates. And I need to do well in dance classes... and actually go to all of my classes (except for bio). I need to have something choreographed for tomorrow for rehearsal for my comp. piece... crap.


I'm waking up at like 6:30am so I can shower before pilates. That means no quickie gym in the morning... I think I have a test... I don't even know.


And my knee is still bothering me. Means it most likely is patellar tendonitis... I think the pain is spreading too... probably cause I keep dancing on it. Crap. 


I feel like I've gained so much weight the last two weeks. It's disgusting. What a great way to finish college... fat, depressed, miserable, scarred, and not a damn thing under control. Cool. I'm really hating life right now...

Ha... shit sucks.

I honestly just feel like I make everyone around me miserable and they'd be better off without me... but I can't do anything about that. I feel like I'm stuck here. Stuck. I don't enjoy life. I don't want to be here. I'm trapped. 

This has been such a terrible week...

I've been triggered and stressed out by so many things and just overly sensitive about the topic of suicide (which of course has just happened to be a major theme of the week). 


I've been cutting for the last 3 days... pretty sure at least two of the girls I dance with saw my stomach... fuck.


I've come to the conclusion that I can either spend my energy on fighting the urges and really trying not to cut or I can just accept it's a part of who I am and use my energy pretending I'm okay so people stop worrying about me.


I just can't do both... it's too much.


And I really just feel... well... defeated. Never in my life have I felt 'defeated'. All of the shit I've been through, all the treatment and doctors and therapists... all the fighting I've done and rejection that's been through my way... all the loneliness and depression and loss of control... all the failure.


It took 22 years... but now I'm here... defeated.

Yup...

This new blade is hella sharp...

It Never Stops...

I want my razors.

90th Day without Diet Pills

I need them so bad right now... and if not now... first thing in the morning.


I don't know how much longer I can do this. I really, really, really just need them.


I feel like I just got hit with a wave of depression and self-hatred. I need to be loose weight. I need to be skinny. I hate this. I hate myself. I hate my body.


Fuck.

I Feel so Fat

I hate this... I feel fat, and disgusting, and gross.


Not to mention I'm in pain.


It's 11pm now... my chest has been hurting since 4 in the afternoon yesterday. My mom thinks it's a muscle. She thinks my potassium got too low and my muscles got tight and I strained or even pulled something in my chest doing a simple movement in class. I'm still not sure.


The pain spread to my neck and has gone a little further down my chest. It's hard to pinpoint exactly where the pain is. It hurts really badly when I breathe.


It's whatever I guess... I took it easy today because of it... no gym OR pilates (OMG WTF) and I sat out of my morning ballet class. I danced in jazz (I did tell him it was hurting) and also in ballet later (he know as well). 


I feel really gross. I'm having one of those "I-just-wanna-crawl-into-a-dark-cave-and-die" moments. I hate my life so much.


And of course yesterday was super stressful. The feedback I got from the director on my piece wasn't good. She doesn't get it and therefore wants me to change like the whole beginning. I got so pissed off and upset that by the time in the meeting I brought up the costumes I just got really upset and started crying and practically yelling at her... not even because of the costumes... just because of everything. Whatever. 


She thinks she know me so well. She thinks I give up easily and just quit at everything. She thinks I'm not going to be able to handle grad school.


If I was someone that gave up I'm PRETTY sure I would've killed myself 8 fuckin' years ago. OBVIOUSLY she didn't get the point of my piece... a life or death situation you're in control of, fighting to stay alive when all you wanna do is kill yourself, never giving up even though it would be easier... uh huh... two hours of crying and a massive headache later...


Whatever. It's my piece. I don't HAVE to make the changes she wants. I made an artistic choice and I'm sticking with it.


Oh... did I mention how she thinks I never stand up for myself?
Yet every time I do (it's usually to her because she's a bitch) she makes me feel guilty for things.


Fuck that. This is my piece. MY creative process, my artistic choices. Mine.


Whatever I'm just rambling now.


Gonna go try to get some sleep.


Oh... but one more thing... I'm fuckin' itchy!! It started like 4/5 days ago... like, I have all these little itchy bumps everywhere!!


Okay... whatever.


Goodnight <3