So here I am. Again. Back here. I tried real life, I truly did. Real life blows.
I'm sick. My doctor doesn't know what it is yet. I've done loads of tests but everything comes back negative. Now we're thinking it's Celiac disease in spite of the negative result (apparently false negatives are very common) combined with something else. I lose almost everything I eat. I'm not absorbing nutrients properly. I'm on special diet and I'm losing weight without even trying, too much weight.
Of course I'm obscenely pleased about that.
But it's also painful. And embarrassing. It's getting harder to keep it a secret from people around me. It's taking over my life. I'm not dying. It's not a tragedy. It's just disgusting and unpleasant.
So, back to my fictional identity. Jillian. She's only sick inside her head. (The real me? Probably not.) I always come back to Jillian. She's good for me... Right?
...
It doesn't feel right anymore. Being here. It doesn't feel like me. Real life is hard, it's harsh, it's full of things big and small that I cannot control. But I think I'm starting to grow. As a real person. I haven't done that in a while.
I'm not saying goodbye. I'm just lost. I don't feel like I fit in anywhere, even in the places I made up for myseld. But maybe that's a good thing, maybe I'm evolving. It could be time I stopped running away. I mean... I complain A LOT, but life is sort of amazing, even when you're fat and your stomach hurts and you don't understand people. I've been learning a lot about myself and it's good. Sometimes I feel invincible, sometimes I feel insignificant, and both those feelings are incredible. Because we're so BIG and everything else is so BIG too. But enough cheap philosophy.
I'm going to keep trying at life. I think I can do it. It's odd that it took the stupidest, most trivial problem, a BODILY FUNCTION problem of all things, and lord knows I can't stand those, to make me shake things up a little. This is a very weird post, but I'm feeling very weird. A good weird. I mean, terrible for writing, but good in general. Yep. Very bad for writing.
I have no idea if I'll post again. I could be back in two days, or in two years. I dunno if I'll want to talk about starving and hurting and crazy thoughts anymore. Maybe I'll try to be the real me. I'm sure you've caught glimpses of her: a bit goofy, overly passionate about the silliest things, loves you all to bits.
What I definitely WILL do is start commenting again. I have been reading, mind you. I'm a terrible, selfish person for not trying to help but.. I needed to disconnect. I'm very sorry. However, I do love hearing about you girls, because you're all sort of amazing, to say the least, so if you'd like me to follow you, I know I'm nothing special but I'd love to get to know you! Leave me a comment with your web address and you should hear from me soon.
My name is Maxime. I'm 19 years old, 5 foot 6 and I have all ten fingers and thumbs. I want to be a cancer doctor. I like robots, superheroes, Edgar Allan Poe, asparagus, pillows and learning absolutely anything. Being me isn't always easy, because I struggle with strange, sometimes obsessive thoughts that take up a lot of time and energy: however, it's also amazing because I get to do what I love, and I have a lot of qualities to make up for my shortcomings. I have friends online who are intelligent and beautiful and spectacular. It's pretty awesome.
(END OF ABSURDLY CHEESY PARAGRAPH AND STRANGE, SPANNING-FROM-NEGATIVE TO-SUPER-OPTIMISTIC POST. MUCH LOVE!)
