Tuesday, August 30, 2011

learn to love the fall

Maybe it's because the alternative to this is studying for exams, but I find myself posting daily and more often than that. But I find myself being more and more contemplative lately. Sometimes I wonder if it is all worth it. This life that I've built up for myself, this swirling mess of papers and professors and academic things that eventually go nowhere and burn themselves out, this outwardly ambitious and hard working and forward thinking life that is taking the piss out of me and making me want to give it all up. I'll take a quiet life, a handshake with carbon monoxide.

But let no one think I gave in. So I keep going and so the cuts keep cropping up as I find it harder and harder to cope. I'm starting to get a bit paranoid now because the harder I have the work, the more tired I get, the more times I slip up and someone gets a wee bit too close to finding out the truth than I'm comfortable with. I'd like people to always think of me as this happy, hard working girl who knows what she wants and is doing whatever she can to get there. And any deviation from that displeases me.

Today I was having a chat with a flatmate about fashion week. I ended up on a rant not dissimilar from a post I did a few days ago about how much I hate plus size models and what size I think women should be. I ended up in a rather angry and indignant state saying that any clothes above size 14 should be banned and replaced with potato sacks. So that if you are that fat you will be forced to wear a potato sack. Then nobody would want to be that fat and lose weight. The way he looked at me, I could tell I had taken it a bit far and the edge in my voice and coupled with my weight loss, I could tell me was worried. He's said before that he will hold me at knife point and force me to eat if I get down to 40kg. My automatic response to that was "ha, I wish!" and he gave me that look then as well. I think he's starting to worry that there is more behind this than wanting to lose a few pounds.

I think that on some level I like being depressed and all that. Which sounds horrendously counterintuitive because being depressed surely by definition mean I can't like it? I'm sort of saying to the world, fuck you for treating me like shit, now I'm going to treat myself like shit and die and then you'll all be sorry!

I feel like depriving myself of food is like another form of self harm. Well, this form has a rather desired side effect of losing weight but at times I'm not sure if the primary goal is to lose weight or is to feel the pain.

I read this quote online that said "refuse to slip, refuse to fall, refuse to feel anything at all, can't be weak, can't stand still, watch your back coz no one else will" and that totally just sums up my constant state of being. Yeah I get sick of it and yeah sometimes I wish I could be capable of being happy in a loving, happy relationship and happy with my lot in life. But I've worked myself into a place where I can't stop being in a constant state of holding on and there is no other option but to keep going like this or die. Which is why sometimes death is such an appealing option.

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