Here's that obligatory New Years resolutions list. Although mine is mostly just some of the major goals I plan on accomplishing in 2014.
1. Reach double digits (preferably 98 lbs)
2. Get my GPA over 3.0
3. Get a job (well, another job, but something steady that isn't freelance work like I'm doing now)
4. Figure out where I'm living next year
5. Run a mile in under seven minutes (my all time record for the mile is 6:52) and run a half marathon (not an official race, just the distance- 13.1 miles)
6. Do the splits
7. Make a friend (I don't care how lame this sounds. I never make any friends because I'm painfully shy and have anxiety so this is a big one for me)
8. Eat vegetarian/vegan for a month
9. Write/Edit/Revise/Rewrite one novel enough to show it it people
So those are my top nine as of this exact moment. I did nine because it's my favorite/lucky number.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Mothers on Weight
I have an eating disorder. Online; this blog, tumblr, various forums, I don't hide that fact. I keep my anonymity, but it gives me the opportunity to be more truthful. If something goes wrong, it's easy to cut people or even whole communities out entirely. They don't know you in real life. I can be honest because there's no blow back.
Real life is different. No one knows I have an eating disorder. Not my family, best friend, or even my boyfriend. I have only ever told one person about my ED as myself. He was one of my closest friends, but our relationship ended in the worst way and we haven't spoken in over a year. I haven't ever lied to my boyfriend, but I avoid certain truths, speak in a way that doesn't quite give away everything or implies something else. Ever seen the show Once Upon A Time? Think Rumpelstiltskin.
I want to be honest with him, but it's just hard. He wouldn't understand and, even worse, he'd try to help me. I'm not sure I want help yet. In the years I've been struggling with my eating disorder, I've learned that unless I want to get better there isn't a shot in hell. I can't tell him that I'm basically starving myself to death and then just expect him to sit there and do nothing about it. That's not fair to him. In this situation, it's better he remain in the dark. At least for now.
This was going somewhere way back when I started, but I kind of went off on a tangent. Oops.
Anyway, my mother is pushy about my weight. I'm about 130lbs (I don't know, I haven't weighed myself in like two weeks because I've been on the worst binge ever that's half turned into recovery). I'm 5'5. This is a healthy weight. I'm not borderline overweight, nor am I too skinny. I'm just healthy. Sure, I could be fitter, but my weight isn't bad.
Still, it's not thin enough for her. She's always so concerned about weights. My father is overweight and she picks at him about it. My sister is a vegan marathon runner and tiny which my mother loves. My brother is a teenage boy and the scrawniest thing I've ever seen in my life. He's about five inches taller than me and probably weighs about the same as I do. He used to be underweight and I don't know if he is anymore, but he's definitely borderline. At the very least, the boy's just skinny. Yet that doesn't stop my mother from worrying about him "filling out" and gaining a little weight.
She told me once when I was in high school that she'd rather I be underweight than overweight. I've never been overweight in my life and honestly, unless you're talking morbidly obese overweight, it's probably more unhealthy to be underweight. Even if not, that's just not something you tell your fifteen year old daughter. Isn't there already enough pressure from the media and our peers to be thin without a parent going and saying something like that?
Again with the tangents. I'm so tired, that's probably way. Let's tie this all together real quick so I can flail about upset and then go watch a stupid movie or be needy/clingy at my boyfriend.
My lengthy binge has sort of evened out into normal eating habits. Weird part is, I don't hate myself for it. I mean I hate myself and I feel horrible and fat and guilty, but not like I usually do. I feel normal, almost. Like I can just enjoy myself.
Well today I ate a lot. Like, binge a lot. 3000+ calories probably. But it's Christmas and I was willing and able to forgive myself (!!!!!). That's a huge step for me towards recovery. We were kind of lounging around downstairs with my puppy this evening a few hours after dinner and I was kind of snacking a lot and grabbed a cookie.
My mother looks at me and says "A moment on the lips, forever on the hips".
A moment on the lips, forever on the hips.
What.
The.
Fuck.
Seriously.
What the fuck.
I don't even have words for that. I'm not fucking overweight. I'm in a healthy weight category. My BMI is good. Just because I'm allowed to think I'm fat and disgusting, but as long as my BMI is in a healthy range, everyone else had better keep their goddamn mouths shut. End of story. No comments, no little snide remarks about how I'm bigger than my siblings or I've gained. Nothing. Fuck you.
At the time she said this I was pissed and just sat there and ate the damn cookie. I told her I'd rather be fat and happy than skinny, hungry, and miserable. Which is true, but I'm currently fat and miserable so fuck me. Then I was still upset so I ate more cookies. And Christmas candy. And dried apples and a crap load of nonfat whipped cream. It was delicious.
But instead of feeling okay about eating like I was earlier, I feel like shit. I feel fat and disgusting and all I want to do is never eat again. Starve myself back down to my low weight. Lower. Reach double digits and keep going. Make her regret ever saying anything. Get myself locked up. Go crazy. Starve to death. I don't know. I'm already crazy, so halfway there, I guess.
Just fuck.
Fuck.
That was such a goddamn triggering thing to say. I wish I had the guts to call her on her bullshit like that. I cannot wait to go back to school and get away from her and the rest of my family.
Every bit of self esteem I manage to scrape together through my best friend and boyfriend, every drop is sucked dry by her and I'm left feeling lower than worthless. I don't even know how to explain things like that to the boyfriend. He always just tells me to ignore what my mother says and just be happy with myself because that's all that matters. It's true, but I already hate myself. I don't need anymore help.
I'm just really triggered and feeling lower than shit right about now. Don't have anyone to talk to. Feeling sorry for myself, mostly. Fuck her. Fuck her and her goddamn weight obsession. No wonder I wound up with a fucking eating disorder. Am generally not one to blame my problems on other people, but she's making this too fucking easy.
Real life is different. No one knows I have an eating disorder. Not my family, best friend, or even my boyfriend. I have only ever told one person about my ED as myself. He was one of my closest friends, but our relationship ended in the worst way and we haven't spoken in over a year. I haven't ever lied to my boyfriend, but I avoid certain truths, speak in a way that doesn't quite give away everything or implies something else. Ever seen the show Once Upon A Time? Think Rumpelstiltskin.
I want to be honest with him, but it's just hard. He wouldn't understand and, even worse, he'd try to help me. I'm not sure I want help yet. In the years I've been struggling with my eating disorder, I've learned that unless I want to get better there isn't a shot in hell. I can't tell him that I'm basically starving myself to death and then just expect him to sit there and do nothing about it. That's not fair to him. In this situation, it's better he remain in the dark. At least for now.
This was going somewhere way back when I started, but I kind of went off on a tangent. Oops.
Anyway, my mother is pushy about my weight. I'm about 130lbs (I don't know, I haven't weighed myself in like two weeks because I've been on the worst binge ever that's half turned into recovery). I'm 5'5. This is a healthy weight. I'm not borderline overweight, nor am I too skinny. I'm just healthy. Sure, I could be fitter, but my weight isn't bad.
Still, it's not thin enough for her. She's always so concerned about weights. My father is overweight and she picks at him about it. My sister is a vegan marathon runner and tiny which my mother loves. My brother is a teenage boy and the scrawniest thing I've ever seen in my life. He's about five inches taller than me and probably weighs about the same as I do. He used to be underweight and I don't know if he is anymore, but he's definitely borderline. At the very least, the boy's just skinny. Yet that doesn't stop my mother from worrying about him "filling out" and gaining a little weight.
She told me once when I was in high school that she'd rather I be underweight than overweight. I've never been overweight in my life and honestly, unless you're talking morbidly obese overweight, it's probably more unhealthy to be underweight. Even if not, that's just not something you tell your fifteen year old daughter. Isn't there already enough pressure from the media and our peers to be thin without a parent going and saying something like that?
Again with the tangents. I'm so tired, that's probably way. Let's tie this all together real quick so I can flail about upset and then go watch a stupid movie or be needy/clingy at my boyfriend.
My lengthy binge has sort of evened out into normal eating habits. Weird part is, I don't hate myself for it. I mean I hate myself and I feel horrible and fat and guilty, but not like I usually do. I feel normal, almost. Like I can just enjoy myself.
Well today I ate a lot. Like, binge a lot. 3000+ calories probably. But it's Christmas and I was willing and able to forgive myself (!!!!!). That's a huge step for me towards recovery. We were kind of lounging around downstairs with my puppy this evening a few hours after dinner and I was kind of snacking a lot and grabbed a cookie.
My mother looks at me and says "A moment on the lips, forever on the hips".
A moment on the lips, forever on the hips.
What.
The.
Fuck.
Seriously.
What the fuck.
I don't even have words for that. I'm not fucking overweight. I'm in a healthy weight category. My BMI is good. Just because I'm allowed to think I'm fat and disgusting, but as long as my BMI is in a healthy range, everyone else had better keep their goddamn mouths shut. End of story. No comments, no little snide remarks about how I'm bigger than my siblings or I've gained. Nothing. Fuck you.
At the time she said this I was pissed and just sat there and ate the damn cookie. I told her I'd rather be fat and happy than skinny, hungry, and miserable. Which is true, but I'm currently fat and miserable so fuck me. Then I was still upset so I ate more cookies. And Christmas candy. And dried apples and a crap load of nonfat whipped cream. It was delicious.
But instead of feeling okay about eating like I was earlier, I feel like shit. I feel fat and disgusting and all I want to do is never eat again. Starve myself back down to my low weight. Lower. Reach double digits and keep going. Make her regret ever saying anything. Get myself locked up. Go crazy. Starve to death. I don't know. I'm already crazy, so halfway there, I guess.
Just fuck.
Fuck.
That was such a goddamn triggering thing to say. I wish I had the guts to call her on her bullshit like that. I cannot wait to go back to school and get away from her and the rest of my family.
Every bit of self esteem I manage to scrape together through my best friend and boyfriend, every drop is sucked dry by her and I'm left feeling lower than worthless. I don't even know how to explain things like that to the boyfriend. He always just tells me to ignore what my mother says and just be happy with myself because that's all that matters. It's true, but I already hate myself. I don't need anymore help.
I'm just really triggered and feeling lower than shit right about now. Don't have anyone to talk to. Feeling sorry for myself, mostly. Fuck her. Fuck her and her goddamn weight obsession. No wonder I wound up with a fucking eating disorder. Am generally not one to blame my problems on other people, but she's making this too fucking easy.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Christmas Rant
*Let me preface this by saying I am an atheist and have zero problems with the religious aspects of the holiday if you happen to be Christian and also I'm just annoyed so yeah.*
I hate Christmas. Anyone ever watch the OC? The holidays make everything bad seem worse. Always. Doesn't matter what, they just suck. It's all family time and fake smiles and pretending that you care when really you just want to get away from the annoying assholes and go back to hating them like you do the other ninety percent of the year (excepting birthdays/other holidays, of course).
My siblings and I went to take pictures for our parents' Christmas gift the other day and the photographer kept telling us to move closer together, not to be afraid of touching. I didn't think it was physically possible to pose that close without actually touching the other person. I actually can't remember the last time I touched either of my siblings. Or my parents.
And gods, the gift giving. The gift receiving. I hate them both. I don't like the practice of giving people gifts. Nine times out of ten they'll hate the gift. But they have to hate it with a smile and pretend like it's a wonderful thoughtful gift they appreciate. And you have to do the same. I've basically given up on gifts this year. I'm making them all- food, a snow globe, homemade lotion, a scarf. They'll suck, but at least they'll suck for cheap.
I honestly don't want anything from anyone. I'm trying to talk my boyfriend out of giving gifts without straight up saying let's not exchange gifts. I don't want to deal with that shit. Fuck this holiday. Fuck the commercial bullshit and the forced family time. Fuck the shitty Christmas music that's always playing.
I'm in a cheery mood tonight.
Sorry, I'm mostly crabby because I've had an awful three day binge. Trying to get my eating back under control so I can stop hating myself. Also crabby because I haven't slept more than five hours in a row since getting off from school. And final grades are supposed to come out today, but it's after midnight and they haven't yet. I need to know so I can start lying about them to my parents (or alternatively tell them the truth if I actually did okay for once).
In more positive news, I may have gotten a freelance writing job. That's kind of terrifying, but at the same time really fantastic. I need a job and that's a splendid one. Great on my resume and writing! Also trying to get a regular job since freelance writing work is practically nothing. But to a broke college student, practically nothing is still a lot.
I hate Christmas. Anyone ever watch the OC? The holidays make everything bad seem worse. Always. Doesn't matter what, they just suck. It's all family time and fake smiles and pretending that you care when really you just want to get away from the annoying assholes and go back to hating them like you do the other ninety percent of the year (excepting birthdays/other holidays, of course).
My siblings and I went to take pictures for our parents' Christmas gift the other day and the photographer kept telling us to move closer together, not to be afraid of touching. I didn't think it was physically possible to pose that close without actually touching the other person. I actually can't remember the last time I touched either of my siblings. Or my parents.
And gods, the gift giving. The gift receiving. I hate them both. I don't like the practice of giving people gifts. Nine times out of ten they'll hate the gift. But they have to hate it with a smile and pretend like it's a wonderful thoughtful gift they appreciate. And you have to do the same. I've basically given up on gifts this year. I'm making them all- food, a snow globe, homemade lotion, a scarf. They'll suck, but at least they'll suck for cheap.
I honestly don't want anything from anyone. I'm trying to talk my boyfriend out of giving gifts without straight up saying let's not exchange gifts. I don't want to deal with that shit. Fuck this holiday. Fuck the commercial bullshit and the forced family time. Fuck the shitty Christmas music that's always playing.
I'm in a cheery mood tonight.
Sorry, I'm mostly crabby because I've had an awful three day binge. Trying to get my eating back under control so I can stop hating myself. Also crabby because I haven't slept more than five hours in a row since getting off from school. And final grades are supposed to come out today, but it's after midnight and they haven't yet. I need to know so I can start lying about them to my parents (or alternatively tell them the truth if I actually did okay for once).
In more positive news, I may have gotten a freelance writing job. That's kind of terrifying, but at the same time really fantastic. I need a job and that's a splendid one. Great on my resume and writing! Also trying to get a regular job since freelance writing work is practically nothing. But to a broke college student, practically nothing is still a lot.
Friday, December 13, 2013
Compliments
I fucking hate compliments.
I mean, certain forms are okay and all. "Nice shoes" "good job on the test" and "awesome taste in music" are all acceptable compliments. They're basic, surface level. They mean very little. Often people say things like that to fill the air or because they feel like they ought to say something. They're easy to deal with. You just say 'thanks' and continue on with whatever else you were doing.
It's the ones that mean something that I truly hate. "You look beautiful" "I look up to you" "you're such a caring person" = bad. Very bad. Awful bad. Stop saying nice things. I don't believe you. When people give you compliments, real honest compliments with depth, you have limited choices.
A) They mean it.
B) They don't mean it.
Which is worse?
They're either lying to your face about something that matters or they genuinely think something amazing about you. It's like a lose-lose.
I have self esteem problems so I don't see that stuff in me. When I look at me I see an ugly, self-absorbed bitch who's got the intelligence of a headless chicken. That's about it. I legitimately don't see my positive traits. Even if the person means the compliment, it makes me feel sick. They mean it and I think they're wrong or they don't mean it and they're lying. I honestly feel like I'm being lied to whenever I get a compliment. Even if I believe the person means it. Just because they mean what they say doesn't make it true. I'm a crap human being, what is there to compliment about me?
But then the worst is that after the compliment I feel like I have to live up to that standard they think I am. If they say I'm smart, then I have to actually be smart, even though I'm not. It feels like such pressure. I know people don't mean it like that, they just want to be nice or say what they think, but I pressure myself enough I don't need more impossible standards to reach for.
The reason for this rant is because I was revising an essay earlier. My prof had given me feedback and critiques on it and I was reading through them. His handwriting is atrocious and I'd just finished the revision, so I was trying to decipher the rest of the comments he made. Now he gives a lot of good feedback. He'll mark a specific section and write "Good!" or "Nice imagery!" as well as other helpful critiques.
Now I should say, this prof is special. He's one of the reasons I came to this school. I met him here when I visited the creative writing department in high school and he is amazing. He's my creative nonfiction professor and everything about him is spectacular. He's basically who I want to be. And his writing is the best I've ever read. Ever.
The comment started "I admire your ability..."
He admires my ability.
I'm sitting here crying and feeling physically sick to my stomach. It's nicer than anything he's written on my papers all semester. He gives positive feedback, but that's above and beyond. That's something different. That falls into the second category of compliments, the bad one.
I want to throw up. I want to die. I want to go back in time and never have met him.
I can't handle this.
I mean, certain forms are okay and all. "Nice shoes" "good job on the test" and "awesome taste in music" are all acceptable compliments. They're basic, surface level. They mean very little. Often people say things like that to fill the air or because they feel like they ought to say something. They're easy to deal with. You just say 'thanks' and continue on with whatever else you were doing.
It's the ones that mean something that I truly hate. "You look beautiful" "I look up to you" "you're such a caring person" = bad. Very bad. Awful bad. Stop saying nice things. I don't believe you. When people give you compliments, real honest compliments with depth, you have limited choices.
A) They mean it.
B) They don't mean it.
Which is worse?
They're either lying to your face about something that matters or they genuinely think something amazing about you. It's like a lose-lose.
I have self esteem problems so I don't see that stuff in me. When I look at me I see an ugly, self-absorbed bitch who's got the intelligence of a headless chicken. That's about it. I legitimately don't see my positive traits. Even if the person means the compliment, it makes me feel sick. They mean it and I think they're wrong or they don't mean it and they're lying. I honestly feel like I'm being lied to whenever I get a compliment. Even if I believe the person means it. Just because they mean what they say doesn't make it true. I'm a crap human being, what is there to compliment about me?
But then the worst is that after the compliment I feel like I have to live up to that standard they think I am. If they say I'm smart, then I have to actually be smart, even though I'm not. It feels like such pressure. I know people don't mean it like that, they just want to be nice or say what they think, but I pressure myself enough I don't need more impossible standards to reach for.
The reason for this rant is because I was revising an essay earlier. My prof had given me feedback and critiques on it and I was reading through them. His handwriting is atrocious and I'd just finished the revision, so I was trying to decipher the rest of the comments he made. Now he gives a lot of good feedback. He'll mark a specific section and write "Good!" or "Nice imagery!" as well as other helpful critiques.
Now I should say, this prof is special. He's one of the reasons I came to this school. I met him here when I visited the creative writing department in high school and he is amazing. He's my creative nonfiction professor and everything about him is spectacular. He's basically who I want to be. And his writing is the best I've ever read. Ever.
The comment started "I admire your ability..."
He admires my ability.
I'm sitting here crying and feeling physically sick to my stomach. It's nicer than anything he's written on my papers all semester. He gives positive feedback, but that's above and beyond. That's something different. That falls into the second category of compliments, the bad one.
I want to throw up. I want to die. I want to go back in time and never have met him.
I can't handle this.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Finals
It's snowing and I've still got finals scheduled for the day. Woohoo. They've got about an hour to cancel before I have to leave to take it, but I doubt they will. It's really a hazard, though. I live at the bottom of a steep hill and have no sidewalk to walk up- isn't that a lawsuit waiting to happen? But still. I guess I'm writing this instead of studying so I can't complain too much.
The thing that really sucks is this exam. It's my Shakespeare final, but as my boyfriend said, it's a Shakespeare final as though constructed by a math professor. Seriously. We got a list of quotes and have to memorize the play and speaker for each of them. And then we have to define eight concepts we went over. And then we have to label which sections are by which critical authors. And then a short one page essay. The essay is the only thing that requires more than basic memorization. I expect this shit in high school, but we're in college now. I enjoy Shakespeare. I want to think in depth about it and my professor is just ugh. I'm kind of glad she's taking a semester off so when I take the second half of the class in the spring she won't be the one teaching it.
She also hates Kenneth Branagh. Now that's just bad taste.
Crabbiness is happening all over the place today because (a) I'm pmsing (b) it's finals week (c) it's snowing and I hate snow (I literally wrote an essay for a creative writing class about how much snow sucked and I'll be revising it tomorrow) and (d) my weight only dropped a half pound since Saturday. I need to be under 120 by the time I go back to living with the parents over break. I'm really worried I won't drop the last two pounds in time though because of my stupid period. I can feel how ridiculously bloated I am because of it.
Ignore my whining. I ought to go back to studying in case they don't cancel finals. They should. It's gross outside and I don't want to walk in it. And also I only started studying this morning because I'm lazy as fuck.
The thing that really sucks is this exam. It's my Shakespeare final, but as my boyfriend said, it's a Shakespeare final as though constructed by a math professor. Seriously. We got a list of quotes and have to memorize the play and speaker for each of them. And then we have to define eight concepts we went over. And then we have to label which sections are by which critical authors. And then a short one page essay. The essay is the only thing that requires more than basic memorization. I expect this shit in high school, but we're in college now. I enjoy Shakespeare. I want to think in depth about it and my professor is just ugh. I'm kind of glad she's taking a semester off so when I take the second half of the class in the spring she won't be the one teaching it.
She also hates Kenneth Branagh. Now that's just bad taste.
Crabbiness is happening all over the place today because (a) I'm pmsing (b) it's finals week (c) it's snowing and I hate snow (I literally wrote an essay for a creative writing class about how much snow sucked and I'll be revising it tomorrow) and (d) my weight only dropped a half pound since Saturday. I need to be under 120 by the time I go back to living with the parents over break. I'm really worried I won't drop the last two pounds in time though because of my stupid period. I can feel how ridiculously bloated I am because of it.
Ignore my whining. I ought to go back to studying in case they don't cancel finals. They should. It's gross outside and I don't want to walk in it. And also I only started studying this morning because I'm lazy as fuck.
Monday, December 9, 2013
Me
It's been a while since I had a blogger so I decided to start fresh. New blog, new email and everything. I'm not really an artsy person in any way so the design will probably always suck. This is just a place for me to upload journal entries about my day, life, progress, etc. Feelings. Ew.
So hi, I'm Kallie. I'm 20 and a creative writing major in college. I have an eating disorder (EDNOS, mostly Ana), anxiety, and in the past have struggled with self harm and suicidal thoughts. I'm basically a cheery, well adjusted person. I'm also a dog person (sorry cats), a writer, and sports lover, especially soccer.
Always here if anyone needs to talk, though if I was good at fixing people's lives I wouldn't be such a wreck. Mostly I assume this will just be me talking to myself, though.
Stats:
Height- 5'5
Weight- 122.2 lbs
So hi, I'm Kallie. I'm 20 and a creative writing major in college. I have an eating disorder (EDNOS, mostly Ana), anxiety, and in the past have struggled with self harm and suicidal thoughts. I'm basically a cheery, well adjusted person. I'm also a dog person (sorry cats), a writer, and sports lover, especially soccer.
Always here if anyone needs to talk, though if I was good at fixing people's lives I wouldn't be such a wreck. Mostly I assume this will just be me talking to myself, though.
Stats:
Height- 5'5
Weight- 122.2 lbs
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