Sweet Home Illinois.

I'M FINALLY HOME!!!

Going home is such a bitter sweet thing for me.
1.) No more temptations of going out. After this term of partying I just feel like a break is well needed.
2.) I get to get new things...clothes in the form of jammies, sweatpants, and undies.
3.) I get to shop for christmas ideas.
4.) I have to see Dave again.
5.) I have to talk to Dave again.
6.) I am reminded of how insignificant I feel now in my hometown
7.) I encounter a scale.

I went on SL tonight when I got back from dinner and remembered that I used to keep lots of notes and old pictures kind of like an SL diary. Well I found this...

did you forget how it felt?did you forget what i ket telling you? did you forget the tears you've cried over this before?DID YOU FUCKING FORGET YOU HAD ANY GOAL AT ALL?OBVIOUSLY YOU DID YOU FUCKING FAT ASS!I HOPE YOUR FUCKING HAPPY, I HOPE YOUR PLEASED WITH YOURSELF YOU LIAR. YOU SAID YOU'D NEVER DO IT AGAIN, YOU FUCKING LIAR! WHT GOOD ARE YOU?YOU FAKE. FUCKING FATASS FAKER! YOU THINK YOU CAN GO ON 300 CALORIES A DAY AND THEN PIG OUT WHEN YOU HAVE A GOOD EXCUSE?NO, NO NO NO NO NO!FUCKING SLAM YOUR HEAD INTO A WALL. EAT YOUR FUCKING PIG SELF TO DEATH YOU DAMN RETARD. JUST GO AND EAT, YOU OBVIOUSLY CANT CONTAIN YOURSELF ANYMORE.NO FUCKING CONTROL, NO FUCKING CONTROL AT ALL. YOU LIKED IT! YOU LIKED FEELING EMPTY AND HUNGRY AND SICK. YOU LIKED GETTING LIGHT HEADED AND SHORT OF BREATH. BUT NO, YOU ATE BECAUSE IT WAS THANKSGIVING AND YOU HAD NO WAY TO GET OUT OF IT. BUT THAT WASN'T IT. SINCE YOU SCREWED UP ONCE YOU JUST HAD TO FUCKING GO SCREW UP AGAIN AND EAT LIKE A FUCKING PIG. WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU. IF I COULD I'D MAKE YOUFAST FOR WEEKS BUT LUCKY FO R YOU, YOU HAVE DANCE. ANOTHER FUCKING EXCUSE FOR YOU TO DOWN AN APPLE, SOMETHING THAT CONTAINS COUNTLESS AMOUNTS O CALORIES SO YOU WONT PASS OUT AND GET TIRED. YOU DESERVE TO PASS OUT. YOU DESERVE TO BE TIRED. YOU DESERVE TO FUCKING DIE. YOUR NOWHERE WHERE YOU NEED TO BE. I KNOW YOUR NOT SATISFIED WITH 110. THATS FUCKING PATHETIC. YOU'VE HAD HOW LONG TO GET DOWN TO 100 AND YOU DIDN'T! YOU FUCKING FAKE! YOU HAVE NO CONTROL AT ALL! DONT YOU DARE CRY THIS TIME YOUR HAVE NO REASON YOU STUBBORN IDIOT! GO FUCKING EAT SOME MORE AND FEEL "FULL" GO BINGE AGAIN UNTIL YOU LOOK FUCKING PREGNANT AND DONT COME WHINING BACK BECAUSE YOU DID IT. YOU FUCKED IT UP. FUCKING FUCKED IT ALL UP! JUST STOP EATING JUST STOP! STOP SCREWING UP MY FUCKING PLAN. YOU HAVE NO CONTROL. YOU'LL NEVER BE HAPPY. GO FIND THOSE FUCKING LAXATIVES TO GET ALL THE CRAP OUT THAT YOU ATE. WHO CARES WHAT ANNIE SAYS. WHO CARES IF YOUR GONNA GET ADDICTED.WHO CARES IF YOU COULND DIE! MAYBE YOU'LL FINALLY GET TO 100. MAYBE YOU CAN GET TO 90. GOD, GO DRINK A BOTTLE OF ICEPAC. YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF LARD. YOU FUCKING FAT PIG.

That's from '05, when I was about to reach my lowest. Sometimes I begin to think that these little notes prove the exsistence of more than one person in a human's head. It's like switching a light on and off. Now when I write things like this it's like someone else takes over. Someone else grabs my mind and these thoughts come rushing in-then that pesron uses my hands to write them all down so I cant let them go away. And while this goes on I...ME...sits back and watches helplessly. Like I'm really being yelled at by someone. I kick myself a lot for not listening to my friend Annie who told me right away that I needed to get help. Because she knew it only gets worse. Not that I knew it would but I don't think I realized how much.

I need new pajamas. Nice soft ones. I need one pair of skinny jeans. Some sweatpants. Hair dye....still need to figure out what color. I don't know if I want to go black...I just feel like I look mexican when I have black hair.