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Right. So word on the street (the street being my mother, of course) is that what happened with me last night in the shower is a classic panic attack. I've had panic attacks before but they always were accompanied but inconsolable weeping and just freaking out so I didn't think this is what it was. I told my mom about my heart going stupid and not being able to breathe and then feeling like I was going to throw up. I also mentioned that I had this strange need to pray last night, to tell God that I did in fact love him and to please not let me die in my sleep, that I'd be good. So yeah... I'm having panic attacks. I don't like it. I've seen what my mother's had to go thru with her anxiety disorder and I don't want that to be me. That scares me to fucking death, to be honest. All of it scares me. (I guess that goes w/o saying when it comes to anxiety, right?) I'm @ 700c for today and I feel miserably full. I haven't exactly eaten a lot (a mid-size bow of stewed beef & carrots in V8, 3 cups of coffee, and 8 hershey's hugs) but goddamn... I'm just all, "Blaaaaaaaaaah... Give me water... I feel like shit... I'm so FULL. I never want food again." I weighed this a.m. (as I always do; 2nd thing I do after pissing when I wake up) and while I'm up .8# (a whopping 12.8oz) I'm not fussed because I know it's me taking on the water I lost after those 4 L's. Still, means I'm down 2# since Saturday and I've officially broken my plateau. Only 8.4# to go to reach my March goal. I have 2 weeks. I'm actually going to make it and that makes me ecstatic. I really need to go back and edit my tags for all of my entries and, given that I've stopped auto publication of my entries on Facebook, 86 the FO posts. I don't like being FO. That's just stupid. I need to organize! So I bought brand new jeans and a cute (albeit very scene kid) shirt last month and I finally decided to wear both of them together. I've been wearing the jeans and while I'm happy that they are getting baggy, I'm almost annoyed that I shelled out $45 for pants I'll be too small for in 3 months. Well, the shirt is loose too. I mean really loose. The thing was spot-on perfect in how it fit when I got it (tight but not like, "OMFG I LOOK LIKE A SAUSAGE!" tight) and now it's going to be too big soon. Again, happy but this entire outfit was a good $80. I don't spend cash like that. Hell, I never really buy new clothes and when I do, it's from Wal-Mart and on sale, so now in 6 months I'll be out of a gangsterly awesome outfit and $80. I should be fucking jumping for joy but all I can think of is the cash. I shouldn't be spazzing because I know I'll wear it regardless. Here's what the outfit looks like: 
 Of course, I'm shaped nothing like them (curvier, taller, less stocky, bigger tits) and I didn't do the thin patent belt. That shirt fits way different on me and is shorter because I'm so tall. Hmm... I look like the quintessential lipstick scene lesbian but my gramma couldn't stop saying how good I looked. She even said she didn't know what was different but I was so cute. Since I've been like retarded good with food and all, my mom has decided to eat whatever I eat. (Of course, she actually eats a normal amt of calories while I don't.) She's all like, "Ugh... This outfit just doesn't feel right!"And I'm all like, "Ma... you've lost weight. It's getting too big!" Given that she thinks she's like 2 sizes bigger than what she is, it's definitely too big. Blahblahblah... Get together tonight! I'll shut up now. <3 to whoever reads my blathering. Tags: pic, psych, update
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When people say, "I wish my life was like my dreams," all I can think of is how my life is my dreams - watching everything and everyone like a bleeping hawk yet never really getting into the thick of it, hiding random shit beside my bed because no one should see it, always shutting my door and hoping it stays that way. I mean sure, I'm not part of some weird company that kills people and warns that I can never know anything (but I do) or being 8 working in a circus in the middle of a drought-ridden prairie and owned by some pedophile-old dude. (Fever dreams, mind you.) I'm just... weird and that's okay. It's those times like... NOW... where I'm all "Ummmmm........." and can't think of anything remotely interesting. At least I like to believe that I'm interesting regardless. It's funny sometimes what I notice about my pictures. How a properly placed, lazy hand to the hip shows pride or a weird glance to the left just as the shutter clicks can show melancholy or whatever. I've been paying too much attention to the details I wasn't even aware of it. My brother's in jail again but he had my cell in his pocket so my cell's in jail. Hmmm... I don't care what anyone says about America's Next Top Model but I've really learned a helluva lot watching it. I've learned my angles, how to stage a really fucking great photo, and how to make things look their best. I've learned to appreciate aesthetic more than I did. (I've always been into the aesthetic side of things but still...) It's helped me look at things different and I always feel so empowered when I view a marathon. And my walk is awesome. :) That thing... yeah... you know what... it's good. I'm doing good. Tags: psych, update
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I'm not going to lie and say that I'm looking good - or better as the case may be. In fact, I look quite shit. I'm going to blame the fact that just 5 days ago I was sick as hell but even then, I look pasty and pale and have. I seriously look like I'm still ill but I'm not. God, who knows??? I have problems with [disordered] people posting pictures of themselves yet ragging on their body. Not really everyone, of course, but those who do it and look all happy and cheerful in their cute little short shorts or those who are wearing something super skin tight and revealing everything they own. (Mid-drift out? Check. Boobs showing in all their glory? Check.) How can someone be that... dichotomous? It's almost like a slap in the face - to me and quite possibly others. It makes me want to think these people are fake and I really hate tossing that word around. "Look at me! I'm so fat and ugly. Let me show you these pictures my homey took of me looking all cute and shit so you can say I'm really not! Hehehe..." Blagh. I have a hard time coming to grips with who I am and what I think in terms of my body and food while knowing I still believe in a god who is loving and can say, w/o a doubt, loves cake. (I have a thing about God and cake. Very long story.) I had a strange experience at my dad's church once, where he invited me on a Wednesday night because (I guess) he thought I'd want to enjoy the free grub. Being hungry and declining the food while being in church just felt weird. Like... does God really care if I do this? Does he hate me for it? Does he have sympathy? And I'm not a Jesus banger or anything like that. I'm spiritual, sure, but I'm definitely not religious. It's all the more strange for me when I see others who are devout whatevers (usually Christians) claiming to be heavy into their religion but still harming their bodies. It all confuses me. I've started using my free weights on my arms when I'm watching TV. Makes me feel like I'm doing something constructive with myself instead of being a lazy whore. Now, if only I were to drag the eliptical into my room & could figure out a way to use it while on my laptop........ God my insomnia is getting bad. It's 434 and I'm not sure I could sleep. I was jotting down my classic mental trick of, "Be good; be 2 good," when I kind of went off and was like, "Don't let this consume me. I know I'm asking for the world." I don't want to think about food constantly or whether I should do some calisthenics or if I could manage something small to eat or blah. I don't always want to think about everything all at once but I know that I am asking for the world. I'm essentially asking not to be disordered. (And that doesn't sound like that I mean in my head.) I guess, if it were left up to me, I'd be 100% normal but only eat very, very little - if that makes sense. Then again, I've never been normal in the first place so it's like asking Atlas to show me his juggling skills. I'm getting way too introspective or some shit. I need to stfu now. Tags: psych, rant
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