apologies

I know my posts haven't been very interesting lately, nor did they contain any information at all. I'm stuck in a rut, and I'm not quite sure what to do about it. Lately, my days mostly consist of reliving the past, both the good and the bad times (mostly the bad). It's completely useless, mostly depressing, and it's making me restless with grief... What I wanted to say, is I'm trying to move on, I'm working on it, and I'm sorry if I don't comment or post as much any more. I still love you all, and read all of your posts, religiously. And I will be back to my former self, soon.

This isn't a good-bye or anything, I will still post. I just wanted to make all of this clear.

Food-wise, well, I haven't been focusing on food too much lately. Mostly on self-loathing. Yech.

But I don't loathe you, haha!

self-deprecation, or the proper use of synonyms

I am not fat, I am abdominous, paunchy, pot-bellied, blubbery, chubby, embonpoint, plump, buxom, zaftig, zoftig, corpulent, obese, weighty, rotund, double-chinned, jowly, loose-jowled, dumpy, podgy, pudgy, tubby, roly-poly, fattish, fleshy, heavy, overweight, gross, porcine, portly, stout. Adipose, buttery, greasy, oily, sebaceous, oleaginous, suety, superfatted.

I am not worthless, I am chaffy, good-for-nothing, good-for-naught, meritless, no-account, no-count, no-good, sorry, manky, negligible, paltry, trifling, nugatory, otiose, pointless, purposeless, senseless, superfluous, waste, drubbishy, trashy, valueless.

I am not cruel, I am barbarous, brutal, fell, roughshod, savage, vicious.

I am not unhappy, I am lovesick, miserable, suffering, wretched, dejected, discontented, discontent, dysphoric, distressed, infelicitous, joyless, sad, sorrowful, depressing, cheerless, uncheerful.

I am not polite, I am a liar.

I am not realistic, but I am sincere. I am no longer passive, I am static.

Get me out of here.

" I don't care what anybody says about me as long as it isn't true. " - Dorothy Parker

guilt, or the sudden movements of my conscience

I thought that maybe, if I loved enough, if I listened to enough people, I could be worthwhile.

Was I ever wrong.

How have I not seen this before? How mean and selfish a person I am? How I keep people close and push them away, ever pushing and pulling, always crying because they leave me, when really I am the sadistic manipulative one. When really I am leaving them, I am hurting them. Only because I can. I bite and I snap and I hate, and I wonder why nobody likes me, I pretend I am a martyr, but really all I hate is myself, and I'll do anything to deny I am a failure.

If I killed myself right now, would the people I've sucked into the blackhole that I am be blamed? Even in death, which would be the greatest justice, I hurt those selfless and wreckless enough to care.

I am everything I don't want to be. Especially, I am alive, while other, better people, are dying. Clearly there is something wrong here. And simply being too small for my size zero jeans isn't enough. There is so much more that needs to be done, if I want to be worthy of anything at all.

Don't try to be a hero and save me. Don't. Because I am selfish enough to pull you down with me, I am, I will.

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What would I do without you girls?