Guys, We Didn’t Talk About Resolutions

January has been crap, but my number one resolution for this year is TRYING to stay positive. I have a fun little positivity book I’m supposed to update daily and everything. I’m not updating daily… but I’m trying.

Other resolutions:

  • No internet dating
    • Read: {embrace that I’m not emotionally available to anyone}
  • Exercise more
    • Read: {be able to walk around without having an asthma attack}
  • Eat better
    • Read: {stop binge eating Chipotle when I’m sad}
  • Spend Less
    • Read: {stop buying art supplies, books, and Coca Cola on the daily}
  • Hydrate
    • Read: {drink something besides Coke and Sweet Tea}

So, I decided to cut internet dating because it doesn’t work and it makes me feel bad about myself. Also, though, I don’t make it easy for people to get to know me or even talk to me. I’m abrasive, closed off, and historically I prefer to make boys cry than let them violate me. So, I think in my year of preparation for being 30 (because 30 is death when you’re a woman, you know /s) I should just deal with that. I know who I am, and I know that I’m fine being alone, but I’ve grown so accustomed to the pursuit of a significant other that life without internet dating, even as terrible as it is, feels new and different. And I could definitely use some new and different in my life.

My ultimate goal with exercising and eating better is weight loss, and ideally I know I want to get back to high school weight (which is still fat, btw… like 60 lbs overweight still) but I don’t want to pin myself down to that number. I want to be able to walk without getting winded and I want to feel better physically more than I want to wear a certain size or see a certain number on the scale. I’m excited for my stationary bike to get here, because I’m motivated to do a thing. (It’s so rare that I’m motivated to do ANYTHING.) It’s supposed to come at the beginning of February. My mom also got me an Instant Pot for working so hard, so I’m excited to see what I can make with it and hopefully manage my caloric intake/expenditure better. I have this tendency to make everything about my weight, and while I am ENORMOUS (I’m not gonna sugar coat it, cuz then I might eat it) {as a fat person I get to make fat jokes guilt free} these resolutions aren’t inherently about my weight: they are about my health and my sense of well-being.

I finally got to really test out my Instant Pot that mothership got me, and I’m living for it. Today I made supa bomb green chili steak with rice and black beans, an amazing chicken soup, and a veggie side dish thing that’s essentially broccoli and cauliflower rice with peas and corn cooked in sofrito. It’s intended to be a side to whatever I make for dinner the next couple of days, which will probably be some chicken or fake turkey roast (Quorn brand non-meats are just tasty, y’all.)

Spending less is a resolution I often have, because I live in a comfortable debt. I have a mortgage, car payment, student loans, credit card debt, etc. I live pretty comfortably, and I don’t think too much about money most of the time, but I do buy things needlessly and I’d prefer to get out of debt instead of just repeatedly feeding it. Most notably, I have a tendency to put out a ton of money for art supplies and books. Of the things I could waste my money on, these aren’t the worst things, but I have stockpiled a supply of both. So, my goals are not to buy anymore, the exceptions being that if I use all of an art supply I can buy ONE more and if I take five books to sell or donate, I can buy one book (in theory using the money from selling the book). I also tend to overspend on groceries, so I’m hoping eating in a more health-conscious way will also help me spend less. Portion control can bleed into money, right?

Saying I want to hydrate for a resolution sounds like a very millennial thing to say, but the truth is that I have a tendency to avoid drinking actual water, and for a long time last year I was drink gallons of water a day, and it does wonders for everything from my skin to my appetite. Recently I got back into the habit of drinking Coca Cola and Monster, as well as a copious amount of iced teas. The teas don’t bother me that much, because it’s only 1 cup of sugar to a whole pitcher of tea, which I think is about a gallon and a half. The coke is out of hand, which is a startling sentence. I really gotta stop drinking so much processed crap, though. While I drink zero-calorie energy drinks, I can tell when I’m dehydrated because I get all swollen and wanna take a nap. I don’t know what I’m going to do to replace my caffeine intake… caffeine is definitely the hardest thing I’ve ever tried to kick, but I know I can do this since I’ve done it before.

Also, I’ve quit smoking. I don’t really know how long it’s been since I smoked… which is not something most smokers will tell you, but I never really smoked on the daily. I always smoked when I went out, and I haven’t been going out, so that made it an unconscious decision to quit. I’ve decided to stick with it, though. I often find myself wanting one, but I just push it down. It’s been really hard recently, because I’ve found it’s really hard to live without a vice.

I don’t have that many vices, and it’s unfortunate that the one I have makes me feel terrible. With the obscene amounts of stress I’ve been under since the new year started, I could really use a vice, but…I don’t drink alone as a rule (cuz I have been known to develop a real bad drinking habit), I quit smoking, I can’t bring myself to become a stoner (I live in Denver, it’s legal, but I still might wanna find a new job at some point and have no idea how to detox, and in my industry we still follow federal regulations), and actual drug use (like abusing my stockpile of Xanax) has never really appealed to me. So, I’m often left with eating as a vice. Even if I make the healthiest food, I have a severe problem with portion control and as a result I’m fat and suffering physical ailments related to my size. Honestly, I have toyed with the idea of living on zero-calorie Monster and cigarettes and just giving up food… but I already had my battle with not eating, as well as the vicious binge-and-purge cycle, and I’m not sure I could win again.

My hands have suffered in place of my lack of vice, too, because I had stopped biting my nails for most of 2017, and I’ve just massacred them since the new year started. THEY ACTUALLY HURT. It’s not even just biting on them, either. I have a tendency to take clippers to try and “fix” the damage and cut them so much shorter than I even ripped them down to. I clip till they bleed, and to be honest that part is so satisfying. It’s like tiny self-harm that’s 100% socially acceptable. It really is just a self-harm substitute, cuz I end up biting and clipping when I’d prefer to squeeze tacks or jab myself with safety pins, etc. Fortunately, I don’t have to fight the cutting feelings a lot anymore, to the point I don’t even know how I used to do it, but the baseline compulsion is still there.

I guess one of my resolutions is to also try to leave my mental illness alone, as well. I’m aware I just talked about my eating disorder problems, and my self-harm problems, and that they were 100% unnecessary statements. I do that a lot. At some point I took my mental illness (bipolar I with anxiety, paranoia, delusions, and sociopathy if the doctors are to be believed) and made myself a chrysalis out of it to distance me from my life. I stopped going out, which is a thing I really enjoyed doing and often even did alone, but that’s not my fault because I have anxiety and staying home was just self-care. It’s a lie, but it sounds nice, right? I have awful paranoia surrounding other people and their perceptions of me, so I just started rejecting ANY thoughts people MIGHT have about me, to the point that I just stopped exhibiting any empathy toward other human beings at all and shut myself off from all people emotionally. Not to mention that my rejection of their perception of me is so strong I stopped wearing makeup or trying to take pride in my appearance. I’ve just been phoning it in for years under the pretense that the feminist movement allows me to not wear makeup, even though I like makeup and really kind of miss having the motivation to put it on. I could go on, but my point is that I’m using my mental illness like some kind of bubble to keep myself from being responsible for my life.

I’m not the kind of person to do that. I’m not the kind of person that gives myself permission to check out because of my crazy. I’ve never taken an actual mental health day. I’ve rarely lost control of my emotions outside my home, because normal people don’t mood swing, so I’m just not allowed to do it. You go home, have a break down, get up, and go to work the next morning, because that’s what normal people are supposed to do. The few times my emotions have gotten the better of me, I just bottle it back up as fast as I can, claim I threw up a lot and that’s why my face looks this way, all tear-streaked and spotty, and continue with my day under the guise of illness. I do not give myself permission to hide behind my mental illness like it’s a reason to be different, and I know that people with mental illness will tell you how unhealthy my approach is, but it’s how I get by in life.

Anyways, I want to stop using my crazy as an excuse for the things I’m doing to myself. I’m secluding myself from people I was good friends with. I’m using my mental illness as an excuse to look proper shite. My house has never been “clean” but it’s gotten worse and my excuse is just that I’ve been depressed…. I’m depressed every damn day for some amount of time, so that’s not a great excuse for me. I have to learn to deal with that shit. I’m… I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to ever open up emotionally ever again. I reserve that for having mental breakdowns on the phone with my mom. Still, I could get over the rest. I have before. Will I be happier? Fuck no. I’ll be miserable. But… I’m fucking miserable everyday anyways. So what’s the difference between miserable and gross or miserable and eyeliner sharp enough to cut someone? At least one of those projects a sense of wellness, even if it’s an illusion built on Smashbox.

So. That’s where I’m at, guys. It’s not a great place, but it’s not the worst I’ve been.

At least we finally hired a biller…
Well… technically she’s the second biller we hired, but the first one didn’t pass the drug test and wasn’t comfortable stopping her THC meds long enough to get a clean test. For what reason, I don’t know, but I sympathize. People are using THC and other weed products for a lot of things these days. It’s unfortunate, cuz I liked that biller, but she has to do what’s best for her. This other biller seems good if she stays. Typical car industry gal, but I think she’s teachable.

Aight, I gotta go to bed. It snowed a fuck ton and I will prolly have to drive in it tomorrow since Mothership has the norovirus I had over New Year.

Peace.

EDIT: I almost forgot! How could I forget?! Rick Died.

My mom’s best friend has been living with, but not married to, her significant other for 20+ years, and one day last week she went home and found him dead in the front yard. We went over immediately, obviously.

He was still lying in the yard when we got there, surrounded by a fire truck and cop cars. You’d be amazed how long it takes to get a body removed. He was out there in the cold for hours… almost three hours from when we got there. Probably three and a half hours total from being found and called in. They have to call people and take pictures and you have to see the grief counselors and stuff… it’s a lot.

We went to the viewing Friday after work. He had to be autopsied. Because she wasn’t married to him, our friend doesn’t know how he really died, though. It’s weird you can live with someone for 20+ years and not be entitled to be their next of kin at all. It didn’t seem to be the fall, so he probably had a heart attack or another stroke. He gets cremated tomorrow, and I hope that gives her some real closure, especially since his friends and family seem to be such fucks. Weddings, funerals, and holidays always bring out the absolute worst in human beings.

I haven’t seen a dead body since my grandfather died. I was really emotional about it at 14, but this time it was nothing. It’s not like I didn’t know the guy, or that I was in shock. I just… didn’t really care about the body. It was there. It was Rick. He was dead. People were crying. I just felt nothing about it, other than it was really unfair to not let the spouse sit with him. I get the investigation portion of body removal, but it was three hours of being told you can’t touch the body in your yard that used to be someone you love, and that feels so wrong. At the viewing I staid away from him, cuz, tbh, the mortuary made him look like a bad Tussaud figure. I just knew that if I got too close I’d wanna poke him or something else completely inappropriate for when you’re viewing a dead body.

So… not sure what to do about my total lack of feelings about a dead body. Makes me a little more serial killer than I’m entirely comfortable with, but maybe it just means I’d make a good mortician. I’ve considered it.

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Dear Diary

Today, I’m having problems with sobriety…

Let’s be clear, I am not an alcoholic or an addict in a traditional sense. I find it quite easy to go forever without drinking, I’ve never done drugs, and even though it’s legal I don’t regularly smoke pot… The problem is that occasionally my brain decides that we should go on a bender of some kind. Apparently, today is that day.

I don’t know what triggers it. I’m not under stress. I’m not anxious about anything. I’m not fighting with anyone. Work is pretty slow. By all rights there’s no reason for me to feel like I need to send myself into oblivion, but here I am fighting the urge to drink, or smoke, or SOMETHING. I think it’s correlated to my mania, but I can’t figure out the trigger… and so here I am.

I’ve been enjoying my sobriety. I had developed some habits for dealing with my depression that I didn’t like… and while none of them were illegal, I dislike anything I have to do daily just to avoid the blue, including prescription drugs. Truly, I’ve been enjoying not running home to cover up my feelings. I like that I feel like myself and I’m not… harming(?) myself. Granted, I’m still binge-eating, but I deserve SOME habit, right? Right.

I dunno. I’m just struggling and I can’t peg why and it bothers me so hard.

I have an eating disorder.

I watched a YouTube video over a week ago, and I’m still thinking about it. I don’t usually watch a lot of The Gabby Show, but it popped up and I was interested. It’s interesting to me how many people are struggling, especially the number of people willing to voice their struggles. I like Gabby; she’s full of stories. I didn’t expect her to be the kind of person that would have an eating disorder, much less talk about it openly on YouTube. I knew Shane Dawson struggled with food and weight and liking himself. I know that Hannah Hart speaks a lot of about how she deals with negative feelings and trying to just feel better. I know Markiplier goes out of this way to let his fans know that he’s got problems and he has to deal with them, but that he hopes his fans have to deal with less. I like these YouTubers for these reasons. I like people that are amazing in spite of being fragile. It’s important to me.

It was hard for me to think about Gabby having an eating disorder, but I wasn’t sure why it was so difficult to think about. It wasn’t until later when I was in the grocery store that I realized it’s because she doesn’t LOOK like she has an eating disorder. She’s not crazy thin. She doesn’t look gaunt and drawn. Her teeth aren’t rotting out of her head. She doesn’t look like she’s in trouble. I fell victim to the most basic denial reasoning, and I should know better. I should know better than anyone that you can look totally fine and be dying inside. Your outside appearance doesn’t have to dictate anything except that you want to seem normal.

Let me take you through a trip to the grocery store with me.
A, I’m a fat girl. Let’s start with that, so you can picture me appropriately. I’m not just fat in the middle, or just have a large bottom half… I’m fat in an all over kind of way. On top of that, I’m self-conscious as shit, so I spend an inordinate amount of time looking around to see if anyone is looking at me an judging my food choices.
B, I always get a small cart, because there is less room to put things in. Plus, I always start in the produce section, because if I fill my space with vegetables I have less room for danger foods. I pick up fruit and stare at it. If it’s a banana, all I can think of are the calories. If it’s citrus or apples, I think about the sugar content. If it’s berries or grapes, I think about how well I can portion eating (which is NOT WELL). In the end, I usually put the fruit back. From the produce section we go to the bakery.
C, I only shop the clearance section. If nothing looks good, I move on in disappointment. If something smells like garlic, I pick it up. In the meat department I only shop clearance, trying to find things that freeze well. I can spend twenty minutes at both clearance spots pondering if I really want or need anything, usually just to pick something up and come back to drop it off later.
D, The rest of the store is me picking things up at random, agonizing about everything I even think of touching, and then trying to be sure I have what I actually came for. At the end of the trip, I circle back through the store again and put back as much of my cart as I can.

In theory, it probably doesn’t sound like a bad idea. You pickup what you think you want, look at your cart at the end, and empty what you don’t need. My cart usually ends up with celery, some kind of fried or sweet item I don’t need but convinced myself I deserve, and Gold Peak Diet Tea.

When I’m out with friends, if they’re going to get food before something, I make up an excuse for being late. If we’re out late and they wanna grab a bite to eat, I make up a reason to go home immediately. On dates, I dodge any dinner invitation. This has lead to a few people being insulted that I want to go out instead of going to their place for dinner… but to those people I say, “Bitch, even if I ate in front of people, I wouldn’t go to your house! I don’t know you! This is how horror movies start, you stupid oaf!” But I digress… I don’t eat in public, unless it’s with my mom, and even then I try to eat the smallest bites possible so as not to look like “that fat girl wolfing down a burger without chewing.”

Don’t get me wrong. I’m under no delusion that I’m eating healthy. After buying my celery, I almost always pop over to Chipotle, ordering a bowl and some tacos under the guise of taking food to my mom, and then go home and binge eat everything, including the celery. I then spend as long as I can afterwards trying NOT TO EAT ANYTHING AT ALL. The point is that if you observe me… you’d have no idea how I got this big or maintain it. No one ever sees me eat.

I dunno where I’m going with this…

Don’t let someone’s outside appearance make you think they’re not hurting.
Everyone has problems… and they manifest in different ways.
Just let people be.

Also, if you are suffering, seek help.
I’ve sought a lot of help, and I’m very self-aware… I’m not cured, but I’m better than I’ve previously been. Don’t be scared of help… It’ll be okay.

Charts

So… Back in 2009 I joined a weight loss site. That year looked like this.

2009-2010

I started at 235, developed the habit of either not eating for days, or going on a binge and then spending the next 30 minutes throwing up as much as possible (even though I later learned that once food hits your mouth, you’re fucked). It wasn’t at all healthy, but everyone was so proud of me when I dipped down into the 190s. It didn’t matter to them how I got there, since they didn’t see it. They saw me drink a coke everyday. It’s weird how no one even questions how someone might drop weight so fast.

As you can see, it didn’t last. It got to a point where my body just threw up every time I ate. It scared me, and the weight started to creep back toward the end of the year.

I kept the account that I signed up for in 2009, and would update it. Not to a whole lot of purpose, but just occasionally felt like making myself want to die, I guess. There were a few times I tried to lose weight again, but I couldn’t commit to eating nothing anymore. I didn’t relish the pain in my guy anymore. It was just reminiscent of that horrible place where I would throw up every time I ate… so over the years (2009-2015) my chart looked like this.

2009-2015

So where I started at 235, which was 35 lbs above my high school weight in 2006, I topped out earlier this year at 280.

280 is officially unacceptable. I know some people will say that over 200 should have been unacceptable, but to those people I say fuck off. You don’t know my life. The point is that I came within 20 lbs of being a 300 lb person and that, for me, is unacceptable. I’ve been a fat person my entire life, but something about 300lbs just floored me.

Was it my rock bottom? Was it some kind of wake up call?
I dunno. I’m pretty sure I could get substantially lower (fatter) before I’d call it my end all rock bottom moment of absolute change. It was a shitty moment, though. I don’t know how I let it creep up so high. It’s like waking up one morning to see a strange looking back at you… and that stranger wants donuts.

So, in June I started looking into diets. Over the course of my life I’d tried them all. From Ana and Mia diets, to fad diets, to beach body, to weight watchers, to coffee and cigarettes, to paleo, to vegan, to whatever. It seemed to me that finding a diet that worked for a long run of life was impossible. How are you supposed to stick to all these thing when you’re also trying to live your life. Yes, being thin would terrific, but I also really like tacos… and when my friends and I go out, we like to drink and get tacos… so, your diet of “you can never drink alcohol again or eat anything that may or may not have touched a fryer” wasn’t going to work for me. I get that you can’t do that shit everyday, but what is life without cheat days?

After a lot of investigation, I settled on Slim Fast. I associated it with older women that say they’re dieting, but really just drink themselves to death, but when I looked into it, it’s a pretty sound kind of diety thing. You’re getting good nutrition intake… and if you’re going out you just skip your shakes and snacks to use the calories for whatever. It even had good longevity, since people can go off it and if they feel they’ve gained it’s not going to wreck your life to start it again. I had always liked the concept of calorie counting, but this was easier since I was only calculating a 500 cal meal and some 100 cal snacks.

And so, I present to you my chart from when I started dieting in July to now.

June-Oct

Yeah, there’s been turbulence. That’s not a straight line. It’s not the most direct path. But anyone can see the trend, here. I’m losing. I’m losing without starving myself. I’m losing without even sticking to Slim Fast or a constant calorie intake.

At this point, I keep Slim Fast around, but I’m not strict with it. Mostly I track my calories. My goal for the day is 1200. If I’m under 1400 I’m happy with it. If I’m under 2000, I live with it. Not everyday is a winner. Some days I want Coke and Chipotle. Some days I eat a cucumber and drink a lot of water, and come in crazy under calories. But… I’m losing.

As of this morning I’m under 260. 20 lbs down.
I also fit in a smaller pant size. So… that’s pretty cool for me.

This shit is hard. I can’t honestly tell you if dieting or quitting smoking is harder for me. Both make me feel like life is empty and pointless when I think about them too long.
I am, admittedly, doing substantially better at dieting than quitting smoking, though… >_>

So… there ya go.

I Have Binge Eating Disorder

I’ve always been fat.

Let’s start there.
It’s not new to me. It’s not something that happened after high school and I have no idea how it happened. It’s not something that snuck up on me. It’s not something I’m unfamiliar with.
I was born a 9lb baby. That’s a big ass baby, if you didn’t know.
I was a chubby toddler, then a fat kid, then a fat teenager, and I topped out at a fat adult.

I wasn’t really aware that being fat was a bad thing for a long time. It was a non-issue as a kid, and remained one until I transferred into public school. Lots of thing happened when I transferred to public school:

  • I had problems making new friends
  • I was WAY ahead of the class
  • I had no sense of style, because up till then I had to wear a dress to school everyday, so I was really into jeans
  • I realized that I was kind of a nerd

Also, it was brought to my attention that being fat was something unacceptable. It didn’t get better in middle school, and actually progressed to the point that people hurled rocks at my head. They were also good shots, so I took more than one to the back of the head on my walks home from the bus stop. It was earth-shattering. I don’t think anything, in my whole life, including my shitty ass father, has made me so upset. No one ever did that before. I was just me, and people were just them, and we had all been friends, regardless.

Still, I managed to take those feelings, push them down, purify them into a gooey black substance, and coat my soul with it. I called that my goth phase, because that’s how I chose to show my frustration with the world. I still wasn’t pretty. I still wasn’t thin. I still didn’t seem acceptable. I was, however, scary and Columbine was still a really big thing, so people were wary that any day I might come to school and shoot them all in the face… so the bullying stopped there. I was cold, introverted, confused, hurt, and angry on top of all those other feelings adolescence already throws in your face. I still am, truth be told. I’m just less confused, now.

Somewhere in high school I started trying to diet. I wasn’t good at it. My friend’s mother also consistently fed us a diet of Gushers and French Bread Pizza every single time we came over, so that made dieting hard. Still, I was back in a circle of friends, and we varied in size and shape from “naturally meth-addict thin” to “whatever, I-love-cake fat” and I didn’t mind myself so much.

After high school I tried some other kinds of diets. The most effective was “don’t eat, smoke a lot, drink ridiculous quantities of espresso, and spend any and all free time at the gym so you don’t eat.” You might recognize that as an eating disorder. It definitely was. I lost a substantial amount of weight, but being a fat girl, people congratulated me. Eventually, though, I reached a point in my life that was hard. I have no coping mechanisms for hard… except eating. Thus ended my streak.

I didn’t used to binge eat like I do now. I can’t say when eating transitioned into something I could use to cope with unpleasant emotions. It’s just something I noticed I did. So, when my life got hard, and I got upset, and I realized I was binging, I did the natural thing… I purged.
Seemed logical: If you eat too much, just pull some back out.

I couldn’t keep up with that. It freaked me out when every single time I ate I became violently ill involuntarily. That’s when it dawned on me that normal people don’t pack themselves to capacity and then throw up to feel semi-normal again.

I’ve tried really hard to be normal since then. Reasonable diets, and reasonable exercise… but reasonable doesn’t show any results, and I still binge when I’m upset. I’m upset A LOT. I’m crazy, unmedicated, and have an excess of free time by myself. It seems to me that unless I totally stop eating and workout 4+ hours a day, I’m never going to lose any weight, just because that’s how I’m wired, now.

I’ve tried Paleo, Vegan, Vegetarian, Pescatarian, Weight Watchers, Adkins, HCG… You name it, I tried it and it failed me… or I failed it… None of those programs are designed to deal with someone that is incapable of dealing with themselves without using food to shove down all the bad feelings. You’d think vegan would work, because you’re eating just veg, so maybe you could binge on veg and not feel bad about it, but here’s the thing… veg is not a satisfying food unless it’s deep fried. When you’re attempting to push something like self hatred down into your stomach and you’re packing it down with carrots… it doesn’t work. I have eaten so many god damn carrots, just to get fed up, get in my car, go to whatever drive thru was closest, and then further pack grease on top of carrots… to the point I made myself physically ill. It was obscene, and I’m glad no one I know witnessed me eating… prolly close to 7 lbs of food… 5lbs of which were totally unsatisfying carrots. It was miserable and not at all good.

So how do normal people cope with feelings? Seriously, I’d love to know. As an unmedicated bipolar with a myriad of co-morbid traits from EVERY personality disorder, all I do is wade through the shit of the emotional lottery. Will going to work make me want to brutally murder and dismember everyone I see because they’re morons and worthless sacks of flesh that just contribute to the overpopulation of the earth? Am I going to have that feeling where I want to crawl under my desk and die, today? Am I going to start crying because I can’t add up a ticket correctly? Maybe my pants don’t fit right today. Maybe I keep dropping things. Maybe it’s one of those days that the boss asks me a bunch of questions I can’t even begin to answer and then gets frustrated when I need some time to investigate answers. Maybe absolutely nothing is wrong, but I just burst out into rage and tears, and have to figure out what to do instead of hurling things at people and windows.

How the fuck am I supposed to cope with that?

Know what triggered today? Know why I’m angry and frustrated and sad and want to either binge eat Mexican food or smash things into little bitty pieces or possibly even smash someone’s face in until they’re just unrecognizable wet bone? Want to know? I was supposed to go have my Well Woman physical today. Quite the unpleasant day, but then the doctor’s office moved my appointment to tomorrow and didn’t tell me. So I took time from work, got my mother to drive me to my appointment (it snowed… I can’t fuck with certain levels of snow) only to find out we’d been waiting for 15 mins for no reason, and that I have to get back out there to BFE tomorrow.

So I’m mad. And I want to eat or hurt someone. I can do neither. I’m freaking out. I hate everything. Part of me wants to die.