Im having a bowel-emptying session, the toilet smells like a cowshed.
I wonder if the fact that I eat like a cow ("What? Like eating a lot? Or like eating their food?" Both) that makes me poop like a cow.
Today I'm making my favorite drink from Italy, that I drank everyday after skiing, which is espressino!
It's the wonderful taste of coffee, a little bit of foamy milk, and cacao powder that's added above each layer.
And then I'd drink some iced mocha, because I can.
Today we don't have school anyway, and it's because of the holiday that I didn't go to, Lag Ba'Omer.
I smell the smoke in my room.
....
I wear my (36 euro size) shorts from Castro, I was trying another pair of shorts in fox, and wow, I am a fucking hippo.
I need to lose weight. Big time.
I bought the shorts in the end, it's size 34 euro. Maybe I lost a size, but not enough to consider myself "legitimately skinny", I feel like a freak.
I just stared on a guy's butt and crotch because I was so amazed by how thin he is.
This is awful.
I hate being pear shape.
Oh at least some fatter girls passed by made me feel better.
But being a pear shape is fucking awful, I love many women that are pear shaped, but I'm just a freaky monster, I'm a calorie monster, marshmallow monster, the new Godzilla. It's funnier because that's how the japaneese described the new Godzilla, fat.
I want to cry.
I fit perfectly a size 8 in boys clothes (ten is slightly loose, like I like them) but I fit a 34 on women sizes or 00 depends where.
My bmr just dropped.
It's 1100 or something.
Do you understand how strange it is?
...
I want to cry.
Seriously, just curl up in a ball shaped and just roll from side to side and cry, sadly, I'm incapable of doing so, because I'm not a good cryer when it comes to feeling sorry for myself.
My tears are a weapon, I use it when I'm afraid or that I need something.
Yesterday I cried because I didn't want to go to the beach after nobody called me, because nobody cared about me, even though that they knew that I was there.
Fucking fun.
Right now, I consider watching two movies.
A. Suicide room.
B. mean girls.
Suicide room is something I watch frequently (not a good sign), and the last time that I watched it was at Passover, mean girls, wow, can't even remember I I watched it his year!
I don't want to go to school tomorrow.
I'm glad that this hell is going to end soon.
Only to start again for another exhausting ten months.
Can't there be an option for being homeschooled online? I don't want people near me, they judge me, they don't like me, and when I'm too afraid (like today and yesterday) to interact, I just avoid them, and I'm ending up hurting them.
Like I did yesterday and today.
I'm sorry Yael and Dabush, I just couldn't.
I don't want to hurt you, but sometimes I wonder if this friendship, is just me, understanding you, and you, trying to figure me out.
I'm sorry, for hiding all of my stuff away, for not fully explaining my "art class" on Tuesdays, and why I'm crying sometimes so hard and mumble that I just can't take it anymore, and why each time that somebody grabs my phone I freak out, unless I'm sure that this person might understand (so far the person that I'm still in relationship with, that I trust the most, is Sappir), and why each time that somebody is trying to look on what I'm doing on my phone I hide it and press to the home screen back.
I'm sorry that I haven't answered at all in the last two days, I don't hate you, not at all, I'm just afraid, that I might hurt you, and only after the first twelve hours, I understood that I'm hurting you even more when I'm trying to not to.
I'm sorry that I'm not always answering normally, or that sometimes I'm behaving oddly, including times of being an euphoric-positive-energy-bomb, and times of being soggy and slow and blank.
I'm sorry that I don't always know what to say, and that I can't always hear and ease your sorrows, but that's me.
I'm not proud of myself, and I don't know if you know it.
I'm sorry that sometimes I shatter, and even that I usually fix myself up quickly, and sometimes I can't. Sorry.
But, don't get me wrong, I'm now blaming myself, it's time for you to see a deeper side of me, while you are who you are.
I remember that day, when You, Dabush, asked me why can't I do something, and I explained it, as simple as possible that will still explain my point, and you said that you understand me, but can't understand why won't I do it anyway, and I repeated it, multiple times, and you did the same, after a while I couldn't go with this repetitive silly conversation, and I said, sure of what I'm saying, like always (I'm insecure, but I don't do anything if I don't think about them a lot before), that if you understand me when I say it, then you should probably understand why I can't, just simply do it.
I remember that time, that you, Yael, said that you never saw me eating in school, and asked me if I even eat in school, I told you that I don't, and lied when I said that I just eat a lot later, sometimes I do, and sometimes, I don't at all, and I hope that you don't immediately understand why I constantly ask others their weight, even that you are severely underweight, and you don't have an eating disorder, I had one, an awful one, it's a deadly combination of overeating, and binge eating disorder, maybe you never heard of those, don't worry, I'm just in the other end of the spectrum, but I assume you heard about bulimia, and anorexia, didn't you? Well, at least now it'll make more sense, I taught myself how to purge in a way that fits me, and I fasted almost each time that I could on a Sunday, because it's so easy when I don't eat lunch and breakfast and school meals. I'm sorry, Yael, that I made it so long, but I was just driven crazy by your special weight.
I remember that day, after you, Dabush, got into a strange argument with Yael, and I sat next to you, and heard you out, for over an hour and a half, since the moment that the first math period started, through the second, and even afterwards, when I cycled with you to your home, I listened to every word you said, and I remember that you said "Thanks Dvash, you're a really good listener, I think that you're the only one who understands me." And I remember how great I felt, for finally being able, to make somebody, to feel, understood, and I remember how sincere your words were, but then, I expected to be greeted with the same "wholeness" after somebody listens to you.
Needless to say, that I never felt this way by you, or Yael, or Maya, or everybody but Gal, and my therapist.
I remember, each time, that you, Yael, complained about something, and in the same manner of the previous paragraph, that I wrote to our friend, you never heard me, didn't you? Let me answer that rhetorical answer, in case that it wasn't obvious, you did not, you tried to sooth me, once, and did it help much? Nope, you tried to calm me, just to make me stop crying, maybe I was too embarrassing to you.
One lasts thing, that's dedicated for you, your tales of "I tried 5-6 year olds size, and it fitted my waist and didn't fall off, but it was too short, I hate being underweight" doesn't help anybody who was previously overweight, after being a small, petite, confident girl.
I don't want to communicate with anybody now.
You understand me better, at least you listen.
You don't answer at all, so you don't even cut me in the middle, or that you overpower my ranting with thousand times even worse story.
Sometimes I wonder if it's all worth it.
I guess it doesn't.
You might think it's funny, but at some point on those two days, I was so sure that I was going to just commit suicide at some point, when I didn't answer them, after all, why would I want to stay alive? I have proved myself that I'm going to continue suffering.
I'm trying to read about homeschooling, I know, it's weird, but as always, I firstly research everything.
Why do my eyes starting to get watery? All I did was reading about social anxiety, and I understood her, it was awful, I just could feel myself, in her world, and the answers that tried to help her, one was awfully tactless, and the other was that all she needs to do is to get out of her comfort zone, and after a while she'll see that it isn't that bad, and the answerer says it as a person that previously had it.
Now, may I tell you that it will never work for me, at least not in this case.
When I was in this anti-panic/anxiety course, for not being such an "overrating" cunt each time I see a bug, they said that there are two kinds of people, the ones that become paralyzed, and the ones who bolt out, and they also said that if you stay near your extreme fear for a while, after a couple of time units (can change, so I don't know) the fear level will drop.
I'm a bolter, that stays only if I don't have any other option, and if I'm able to flee, then I would.
Well, I'm going to keep on reading, at least I posted.
Good night, you lovely silent people.
I don't want to hurt you, but sometimes I wonder if this friendship, is just me, understanding you, and you, trying to figure me out.
I'm sorry, for hiding all of my stuff away, for not fully explaining my "art class" on Tuesdays, and why I'm crying sometimes so hard and mumble that I just can't take it anymore, and why each time that somebody grabs my phone I freak out, unless I'm sure that this person might understand (so far the person that I'm still in relationship with, that I trust the most, is Sappir), and why each time that somebody is trying to look on what I'm doing on my phone I hide it and press to the home screen back.
I'm sorry that I haven't answered at all in the last two days, I don't hate you, not at all, I'm just afraid, that I might hurt you, and only after the first twelve hours, I understood that I'm hurting you even more when I'm trying to not to.
I'm sorry that I'm not always answering normally, or that sometimes I'm behaving oddly, including times of being an euphoric-positive-energy-bomb, and times of being soggy and slow and blank.
I'm sorry that I don't always know what to say, and that I can't always hear and ease your sorrows, but that's me.
I'm not proud of myself, and I don't know if you know it.
I'm sorry that sometimes I shatter, and even that I usually fix myself up quickly, and sometimes I can't. Sorry.
But, don't get me wrong, I'm now blaming myself, it's time for you to see a deeper side of me, while you are who you are.
I remember that day, when You, Dabush, asked me why can't I do something, and I explained it, as simple as possible that will still explain my point, and you said that you understand me, but can't understand why won't I do it anyway, and I repeated it, multiple times, and you did the same, after a while I couldn't go with this repetitive silly conversation, and I said, sure of what I'm saying, like always (I'm insecure, but I don't do anything if I don't think about them a lot before), that if you understand me when I say it, then you should probably understand why I can't, just simply do it.
I remember that time, that you, Yael, said that you never saw me eating in school, and asked me if I even eat in school, I told you that I don't, and lied when I said that I just eat a lot later, sometimes I do, and sometimes, I don't at all, and I hope that you don't immediately understand why I constantly ask others their weight, even that you are severely underweight, and you don't have an eating disorder, I had one, an awful one, it's a deadly combination of overeating, and binge eating disorder, maybe you never heard of those, don't worry, I'm just in the other end of the spectrum, but I assume you heard about bulimia, and anorexia, didn't you? Well, at least now it'll make more sense, I taught myself how to purge in a way that fits me, and I fasted almost each time that I could on a Sunday, because it's so easy when I don't eat lunch and breakfast and school meals. I'm sorry, Yael, that I made it so long, but I was just driven crazy by your special weight.
I remember that day, after you, Dabush, got into a strange argument with Yael, and I sat next to you, and heard you out, for over an hour and a half, since the moment that the first math period started, through the second, and even afterwards, when I cycled with you to your home, I listened to every word you said, and I remember that you said "Thanks Dvash, you're a really good listener, I think that you're the only one who understands me." And I remember how great I felt, for finally being able, to make somebody, to feel, understood, and I remember how sincere your words were, but then, I expected to be greeted with the same "wholeness" after somebody listens to you.
Needless to say, that I never felt this way by you, or Yael, or Maya, or everybody but Gal, and my therapist.
I remember, each time, that you, Yael, complained about something, and in the same manner of the previous paragraph, that I wrote to our friend, you never heard me, didn't you? Let me answer that rhetorical answer, in case that it wasn't obvious, you did not, you tried to sooth me, once, and did it help much? Nope, you tried to calm me, just to make me stop crying, maybe I was too embarrassing to you.
One lasts thing, that's dedicated for you, your tales of "I tried 5-6 year olds size, and it fitted my waist and didn't fall off, but it was too short, I hate being underweight" doesn't help anybody who was previously overweight, after being a small, petite, confident girl.
I don't want to communicate with anybody now.
You understand me better, at least you listen.
You don't answer at all, so you don't even cut me in the middle, or that you overpower my ranting with thousand times even worse story.
Sometimes I wonder if it's all worth it.
I guess it doesn't.
You might think it's funny, but at some point on those two days, I was so sure that I was going to just commit suicide at some point, when I didn't answer them, after all, why would I want to stay alive? I have proved myself that I'm going to continue suffering.
I'm trying to read about homeschooling, I know, it's weird, but as always, I firstly research everything.
Why do my eyes starting to get watery? All I did was reading about social anxiety, and I understood her, it was awful, I just could feel myself, in her world, and the answers that tried to help her, one was awfully tactless, and the other was that all she needs to do is to get out of her comfort zone, and after a while she'll see that it isn't that bad, and the answerer says it as a person that previously had it.
Now, may I tell you that it will never work for me, at least not in this case.
When I was in this anti-panic/anxiety course, for not being such an "overrating" cunt each time I see a bug, they said that there are two kinds of people, the ones that become paralyzed, and the ones who bolt out, and they also said that if you stay near your extreme fear for a while, after a couple of time units (can change, so I don't know) the fear level will drop.
I'm a bolter, that stays only if I don't have any other option, and if I'm able to flee, then I would.
Well, I'm going to keep on reading, at least I posted.
Good night, you lovely silent people.
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