Will I ever fit in anywhere?
Even in the world of disorders, I don't belong.
Too fat for anorexia, not fat enough for binge eating, don't purge enough for bulimia.
I suppose, in a way, it could be a good thing.
I can justify what I'm doing.
I don't have a problem, I've never been diagnosed.
I'd almost welcome a diagnosis.
At least then I'd know I belonged somewhere.
I certainly wouldn't be taken as seriously by a doctor as someone who had an official diagnosis.
Who knows, maybe I will go see a doctor and pour my heart out and be completely brutally honest...
I doubt it.
They wouldn't take me seriously.
I have this voice in my head that tells me
"Hey, you don't have a problem.
You haven't been diagnosed.
Just keep going.
Maybe you'll find where you belong someday."
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Of Control
I pace the room, my footsteps echoing in the silence.
The room is dark, the only source of illumination coming from the candles flickering softly.
My mission is simple: avoid food at all costs.
Food is the enemy.
Food is the tormentor.
The low rumbling of my stomach begs to differ.
I glance down at my thighs and that familiar feeling surfaces again.
Disgust.
Repulsion.
The flesh should not be touching.
So why is it?
Am I really that weak?
No. I know I'm stronger than that.
I continue staring at the flesh, half hoping that if I stare long enough, it will melt away.
I know that isn't possible, but I can dream, right?
Sway on my feet, holding my hand out to stop the fall.
Bones on the left wrist stick out.
Smile slightly.
How do I make the other match?
Calorie intake improves. Smile again.
I stare at my thighs, held in by the tight fabric of my jeans.
Too tight. Too fat. Shouldn't have eaten those crackers.
Stupid. Stupid.
Look in the mirror. Smile pretty. Deny at all costs.
Perfection.
Standing on stage, the clothes smothering me. Suffocating.
99.
Too fat. Way too fat.
Just 7 more pounds and I'll be perfect.
Maybe.
Maybe 92 isn't enough.
88. I can be 88 pounds.
I can. I will. I have to.
The hunger is calling to me.
I fight it every day and every night.
Too fat. I fight it to feel alive.
"Maybe you should eat," Aaron says.
He looks worried. I smile.
"No. It's fine. I'm fine," I reply.
101. How? I've been good.
I've been very good. Why?
How?
Erin smiles at me. Something's going on.
"You used to be so pretty, Anya."
Used to? What does she mean?
I hold my breath. Hide behind a smile.
Sip my water and hold the smile.
See? Nothing wrong here, baby. Everything's perfect.
I remember the world from the eyes of a child.
I want to go back to believing in everything.
To knowing nothing. The sun is cold.
Aaron watches me from the chair.
I feel his eyes on me.
Meet his eyes. He looks away quickly.
Doesn't want me to know.
What's wrong? Doesn't he see how happy I am?
Need to be perfect. For me. For them.
One rib, two rib, three rib, four.
Check the hips. Jeans barely hanging on.
I smile.
95.
95.
Not enough. Not enough.
I don't want it, Erin.
I said no. I mean it, Erin.
I walk away.
"Anya!"
I ignore her and walk away.
Aaron sighs and puts down his pen.
Turns to face me.
93. The pride and accomplishment shine in my eyes.
Three pounds. Three pounds to go before I reach 90.
5 pounds until I reach the ultimate goal.
Five pounds. Just five more pounds.
No, Aaron.
Don't want it.
Ate earlier.
Control.
He looks horrified.
I knew it.
Too fat.
I'm too fat for anyone to look at me.
Smile.
I feel like crying.
Control.
Lack of food.
Stomach rumbling slightly.
Natural high.
Aaron's watching.
Pick up the apple.
Take a bite.
He smiles.
Turn my head.
Spit it out.
Control.
I ate that stupid piece of bread.
Where did the control go?
Stand up.
"Where are you going, Anya?"
Erin.
"I have a show to get ready for."
Walk out the door.
Have to jog and walk it all off.
Breathe. Footsteps strangely loud on the pavement.
No one is here. I'm alone.
Nothing new there.
Control.
The room is dark, the only source of illumination coming from the candles flickering softly.
My mission is simple: avoid food at all costs.
Food is the enemy.
Food is the tormentor.
The low rumbling of my stomach begs to differ.
I glance down at my thighs and that familiar feeling surfaces again.
Disgust.
Repulsion.
The flesh should not be touching.
So why is it?
Am I really that weak?
No. I know I'm stronger than that.
I continue staring at the flesh, half hoping that if I stare long enough, it will melt away.
I know that isn't possible, but I can dream, right?
Sway on my feet, holding my hand out to stop the fall.
Bones on the left wrist stick out.
Smile slightly.
How do I make the other match?
Calorie intake improves. Smile again.
I stare at my thighs, held in by the tight fabric of my jeans.
Too tight. Too fat. Shouldn't have eaten those crackers.
Stupid. Stupid.
Look in the mirror. Smile pretty. Deny at all costs.
Perfection.
Standing on stage, the clothes smothering me. Suffocating.
99.
Too fat. Way too fat.
Just 7 more pounds and I'll be perfect.
Maybe.
Maybe 92 isn't enough.
88. I can be 88 pounds.
I can. I will. I have to.
The hunger is calling to me.
I fight it every day and every night.
Too fat. I fight it to feel alive.
"Maybe you should eat," Aaron says.
He looks worried. I smile.
"No. It's fine. I'm fine," I reply.
101. How? I've been good.
I've been very good. Why?
How?
Erin smiles at me. Something's going on.
"You used to be so pretty, Anya."
Used to? What does she mean?
I hold my breath. Hide behind a smile.
Sip my water and hold the smile.
See? Nothing wrong here, baby. Everything's perfect.
I remember the world from the eyes of a child.
I want to go back to believing in everything.
To knowing nothing. The sun is cold.
Aaron watches me from the chair.
I feel his eyes on me.
Meet his eyes. He looks away quickly.
Doesn't want me to know.
What's wrong? Doesn't he see how happy I am?
Need to be perfect. For me. For them.
One rib, two rib, three rib, four.
Check the hips. Jeans barely hanging on.
I smile.
95.
95.
Not enough. Not enough.
I don't want it, Erin.
I said no. I mean it, Erin.
I walk away.
"Anya!"
I ignore her and walk away.
Aaron sighs and puts down his pen.
Turns to face me.
93. The pride and accomplishment shine in my eyes.
Three pounds. Three pounds to go before I reach 90.
5 pounds until I reach the ultimate goal.
Five pounds. Just five more pounds.
No, Aaron.
Don't want it.
Ate earlier.
Control.
He looks horrified.
I knew it.
Too fat.
I'm too fat for anyone to look at me.
Smile.
I feel like crying.
Control.
Lack of food.
Stomach rumbling slightly.
Natural high.
Aaron's watching.
Pick up the apple.
Take a bite.
He smiles.
Turn my head.
Spit it out.
Control.
I ate that stupid piece of bread.
Where did the control go?
Stand up.
"Where are you going, Anya?"
Erin.
"I have a show to get ready for."
Walk out the door.
Have to jog and walk it all off.
Breathe. Footsteps strangely loud on the pavement.
No one is here. I'm alone.
Nothing new there.
Control.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Of Bathrooms, Cher, and Jack Nicholson
I spent my day with Erin today.
We watched The Witches of Eastwick (one of my favourites) and we ate fried hot dogs (sounds gross, but it's actually pretty good).
I purged those hot dogs, and told her that I was looking for a sweater in order to hide my purging.
Long story short:
Mission Stop Purging=Fail.
While on the way to Erin's house, I was listening to Cher and making commentary during the songs
Which resulted in us discovering that Jack Nicholson left me for Cher after that first kiss during Witches of Eastwick..so sad.
Erin: So, Jack left you for Cher, huh?
Me: Yes, isn't it sad? That first kiss ruined what Jack and I had! *fake sobs* But I was with them both. She doesn't need to know about him.
Erin: Maybe you can win him back.
Me: No, it's okay. He's locked in my closet. Along with Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, and Josh Groban. Cher's in my pantry. They can both be with me, just not each other.
Erin: What about your cage with Josh Turner?
Me: Oh, yeah. Forgot about that.
Erin: Where's Stevie Nicks going to stay then?
Me: She can stay in my bathroom. After all, she says bathrooms are inspirational.
Then, we discussed how Stevie Nicks once said that some of her best songs were written in her bathroom, which was a very inspirational place for her.
Erin: Maybe you should try that.
Me: What? Write a song in my bathroom?
Erin: Why not?
Me: Hmm..Yeah, I could take a pen and paper, take a bath and if inspiration strikes...
I went home, put on some instrumental music (3055 by Ólafur Arnalds, Breathing Space by X-Ray Dogs, etc) and drew a bath.
This is what came of my bath...for the man who has wasted too much of my time, and his.
You said I didn't accept you
Well, how about you take a look in the mirror, baby?
You know that what I'm saying is true
Your eyes are open, but you're too blind to see
I have to be true to my own heart
I'll break the spell you had on me
Your doubt was there from the start
Afraid of what I might see
Now I'm setting you free, letting go
This is the last song I'm wasting on you
As you listen to my voice on the radio
I hope you feel twice the pain you put me through
I hate to waste my creativity
I'd rather sing of love pure and true
Once again, you got the best of me
So here it is, just for you
I've never been one to talk
Never been the type to kiss and tell
So why don't you take a nice long walk
Isn't revenge hell?
Please be silent, don't speak at all
I don't want to hear your voice
I watched what we once had fall
No matter what you say, you had a choice
Now I'm setting you free, letting go
This is the last song I'm wasting on you
As you listen to my voice on the radio
I hope you feel twice the pain you put me through
I hate to waste my creativity
I'd rather sing of love pure and true
Once again, you got the best of me
So here it is, just for you
Just for you...
Just for you..
We watched The Witches of Eastwick (one of my favourites) and we ate fried hot dogs (sounds gross, but it's actually pretty good).
I purged those hot dogs, and told her that I was looking for a sweater in order to hide my purging.
Long story short:
Mission Stop Purging=Fail.
While on the way to Erin's house, I was listening to Cher and making commentary during the songs
Which resulted in us discovering that Jack Nicholson left me for Cher after that first kiss during Witches of Eastwick..so sad.
Erin: So, Jack left you for Cher, huh?
Me: Yes, isn't it sad? That first kiss ruined what Jack and I had! *fake sobs* But I was with them both. She doesn't need to know about him.
Erin: Maybe you can win him back.
Me: No, it's okay. He's locked in my closet. Along with Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, and Josh Groban. Cher's in my pantry. They can both be with me, just not each other.
Erin: What about your cage with Josh Turner?
Me: Oh, yeah. Forgot about that.
Erin: Where's Stevie Nicks going to stay then?
Me: She can stay in my bathroom. After all, she says bathrooms are inspirational.
Then, we discussed how Stevie Nicks once said that some of her best songs were written in her bathroom, which was a very inspirational place for her.
Erin: Maybe you should try that.
Me: What? Write a song in my bathroom?
Erin: Why not?
Me: Hmm..Yeah, I could take a pen and paper, take a bath and if inspiration strikes...
I went home, put on some instrumental music (3055 by Ólafur Arnalds, Breathing Space by X-Ray Dogs, etc) and drew a bath.
This is what came of my bath...for the man who has wasted too much of my time, and his.
You said I didn't accept you
Well, how about you take a look in the mirror, baby?
You know that what I'm saying is true
Your eyes are open, but you're too blind to see
I have to be true to my own heart
I'll break the spell you had on me
Your doubt was there from the start
Afraid of what I might see
Now I'm setting you free, letting go
This is the last song I'm wasting on you
As you listen to my voice on the radio
I hope you feel twice the pain you put me through
I hate to waste my creativity
I'd rather sing of love pure and true
Once again, you got the best of me
So here it is, just for you
I've never been one to talk
Never been the type to kiss and tell
So why don't you take a nice long walk
Isn't revenge hell?
Please be silent, don't speak at all
I don't want to hear your voice
I watched what we once had fall
No matter what you say, you had a choice
Now I'm setting you free, letting go
This is the last song I'm wasting on you
As you listen to my voice on the radio
I hope you feel twice the pain you put me through
I hate to waste my creativity
I'd rather sing of love pure and true
Once again, you got the best of me
So here it is, just for you
Just for you...
Just for you..
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Of Job-Hunting, Guilt, and New Promises
I have a job application to Dollar General on the counter in front of me.
Hope it goes well. Turning it in asap. Wish me luck.
Dustin and I are more than likely going our separate ways.
We're just not able to work together.
All he cares about is a relationship (ie, sex) and not about music at all.
I've already told him that I can't be with anyone whose religious views differ from mine, and he was upset by it.
I have to be true to my heart and spiritual mind thugh, and I don't feel any guilt over it.
I'm tired of walking on eggshells around not only him but everyone else.
I'm not going to censor myself anymore.
It's a new promise to myself that I fully intend to keep.
I don't make promises that I can't keep.
I won't be a prisoner to somebody's needs.
Nobody nowhere holds the key to your heart. When love's a possession, it'll tear you apart.
Hope it goes well. Turning it in asap. Wish me luck.
Dustin and I are more than likely going our separate ways.
We're just not able to work together.
All he cares about is a relationship (ie, sex) and not about music at all.
I've already told him that I can't be with anyone whose religious views differ from mine, and he was upset by it.
I have to be true to my heart and spiritual mind thugh, and I don't feel any guilt over it.
I'm tired of walking on eggshells around not only him but everyone else.
I'm not going to censor myself anymore.
It's a new promise to myself that I fully intend to keep.
I don't make promises that I can't keep.
I won't be a prisoner to somebody's needs.
Nobody nowhere holds the key to your heart. When love's a possession, it'll tear you apart.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Of Writing
Once again I am writing.
I've written a new song, and am working on another one right now, which I will post when it's finished.
This one is for the man...who I someday hope will understand.
You want me to open up
You want me to let you in
Wanting simply isn't enough
The thread we hang by is much too thin
I've built walls around my heart
Been alone so long that I'm scared
It might take some time to start
Breaking down the walls to breathe the air
To live, to scream, to want, to wish
To hold your breath until there's nothing left
To be the only one you cherish
To hold your head up with no regret
The darkest corners of my mind
The heart of stone I guard with my life
All of this could be yours in time
If you could end the pain of the searing knife
I want to be whole again
I never want to fear the sun
I want to dance in the rain
My life has only just begun
I'm trying not to pull away
I just need you to understand
This isn't going to happen in one day
My heart is on the mend
To live, to scream, to want, to wish
To hold your breath until there's nothing left
To be the only one you cherish
To hold your head up with no regret
The darkest corners of my mind
The heart of stone I guard with my life
All of this could be yours in time
If you could end the pain of the searing knife
I've written a new song, and am working on another one right now, which I will post when it's finished.
This one is for the man...who I someday hope will understand.
You want me to open up
You want me to let you in
Wanting simply isn't enough
The thread we hang by is much too thin
I've built walls around my heart
Been alone so long that I'm scared
It might take some time to start
Breaking down the walls to breathe the air
To live, to scream, to want, to wish
To hold your breath until there's nothing left
To be the only one you cherish
To hold your head up with no regret
The darkest corners of my mind
The heart of stone I guard with my life
All of this could be yours in time
If you could end the pain of the searing knife
I want to be whole again
I never want to fear the sun
I want to dance in the rain
My life has only just begun
I'm trying not to pull away
I just need you to understand
This isn't going to happen in one day
My heart is on the mend
To live, to scream, to want, to wish
To hold your breath until there's nothing left
To be the only one you cherish
To hold your head up with no regret
The darkest corners of my mind
The heart of stone I guard with my life
All of this could be yours in time
If you could end the pain of the searing knife
Of Searching and Frustration
I am still searching for guitarists, lead/rhythm/bass.
I an still searching for a manager.
I am still searching for a new recording studio.
No one will give me the time of day.
Samantha and I are planning on filming a music video during the spring/early summer.
I already have my music on YouTube and my MySpace account...
I've been looking into performing in various bars, but I want to wait until I'm in Nashville and closer to the music scene.
I will make it someday.
I know I will.
I have the talent and the determination.
All I need is the chance.
Won't someone give me the chance?
I an still searching for a manager.
I am still searching for a new recording studio.
No one will give me the time of day.
Samantha and I are planning on filming a music video during the spring/early summer.
I already have my music on YouTube and my MySpace account...
I've been looking into performing in various bars, but I want to wait until I'm in Nashville and closer to the music scene.
I will make it someday.
I know I will.
I have the talent and the determination.
All I need is the chance.
Won't someone give me the chance?
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Of New Years and New Beginnings
Today is the first day of 2011.
May this year be better than the last.
Dustin and I went out last night and we're going to hang out sometime this coming week.
I'm so tired of being alone, but I'm scared of getting hurt.
Billy hurt me, Alan nearly destroyed me, Jonathen hurt me...
I just don't want to be hurt again.
I don't know if I could handle it.
I'm building even more walls tham before around my heart.
To be completely honest, I wish my heart was made of stone.
With a heart of stone, I'd be well protected.
In the game of love, there's no room for the innocent.
Love is a game...until it's played.
I'll keep breaking until I'm done.
I'm going to take my time
Until I wake up one morning
And find that I feel better.
May this year be better than the last.
Dustin and I went out last night and we're going to hang out sometime this coming week.
I'm so tired of being alone, but I'm scared of getting hurt.
Billy hurt me, Alan nearly destroyed me, Jonathen hurt me...
I just don't want to be hurt again.
I don't know if I could handle it.
I'm building even more walls tham before around my heart.
To be completely honest, I wish my heart was made of stone.
With a heart of stone, I'd be well protected.
In the game of love, there's no room for the innocent.
Love is a game...until it's played.
I'll keep breaking until I'm done.
I'm going to take my time
Until I wake up one morning
And find that I feel better.
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