a picture

Here are my legs.  Last year.  During the time the scale was taken away.  So I'm guesstimating I weighed around 90 pounds.  Maybe less.  Maybe more.  The jeans are a 0.

I'm just a fatass now.  Stuck at 115 and can't seem to do a damn thing about it.  Donated those jeans.  Ha.

I hate me.

alive

just in limbo

getting rejected from uni sucks

i'm 4 out of 5 acceptances now

always failing at perfection

inspired by Isobel

Please give your opinions - do I revamp this blog?  Make it pro-health?

Clarification: I am not pro-ana.  I am pro-me-not-giving-a-flying-fuck-about-myself.  But I want to change that.

Maybe if I change my blog I can change myself.  I don't know.

Comment please?

love someone

who will hold your hand,
kiss your neck, shoulders, anywhere,
look into your eyes,
stroke your hair, and tuck it behind your ear,
bite your lip while kissing,
watch you instead of the movie,
put their head in your lap,
catch your face and kiss you,
tell you you are beautiful and really truly mean it.

Love someone who will love you back - mind, body, and soul.

Love someone who doesn't care that you hate yourself,
because they love you enough for both of you,
someone who kisses your scars,
knows your story,
holds you when you cry,
protects you from yourself,
and loves you all the same.

Love someone.

HELP

All my lovely followers:  I try not to do things like this often, but Isobel is special to my heart.

Head over HERE please, and help her out!

Many thanks darlings,
Posie

my anything

If I could have anything, what would I want?

I would want to be happy.

I would break the mirror that lies behind my eyes, telling me nonono, you're fat fat fat, all the time.  I would mute the never ending scream of uglyworthlessfatbitchwhorefatfatfat that plays in my head.

I would be happy.  I will be happy.  I can be happy.

But I don't know how.  I don't know how to stop this sick merry go round.

Within a year, I lost and gained the same 30+ pounds.  I went from healthy to dying to "healthy" and fat again.  I have cut myself, from my face to my ribs to my wrists to hips to my thighs.  I have burned, punched, pinched, scratched, hurt myself.  I have scarred myself, inside and outside.

I have lost love and gained love.  I have hurt and been hurt.

But most of all, I have broken me.  Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.  Words didn't hurt me, words have helped save me.  Numbers.  Numbers have hurt me.

82 is my number.  It haunts me.  It lurks behind my eyelids, whispering.

Just three more pounds to 79, just three.  You weak fuck, you couldn't even do that.  Three more pounds and maybe you would have been happy.  You disgust me.

If I could have anything?  I would erase what I've done.  I would be happy.

I would be happy.

sorry this is so rambling

if you could have anything

and I mean ANYTHING, anything at all

what would it be?

nothing to report

still a fatass whale

but doing my best

LOL JK

Still crazy