x_jacks_wasted_life

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Thursday, 29 January 2009

Dear World,
Im sorry about being another American steriotype. In other words, being fat.
Yes, most of it is because of overeating during childhood ((lived next to a pizza shop that my grandmom worked at, it was bound to happen)) combined with overeating in my current teen years ((its not that Im hungry but that I like the way food tastes, also bound to happen)).
But it doesnt explain why I remain fat. So, I shall appologise for the reasons.
I appologise that I cant bring myself have an eating disorder. I dont much care for the process or the after taste of throwing up, nor can I get over the embaressment of paying for laxitives, so buleimia is out. As stated before I enjoy eating as a pastime and not as a necessity, so annorexia is out as well.
I appologise that I cant bring myself to be a drug user. Ive heard plenty of stories of how much weight people lose while on drugs like exstacy, cocaine, and heroin, but I care too much about myself to do any of those. Ive also heard about people losing weight while abusing ADD medications or while abusing cough medicines or whatever they may be abusing, but I have too much respect for medicine to do that ether. So thats out.
This all leaves us with good old fashioned exercise. First, no one likes working out alone and I am no exception. Running is out of the question because I have a bum ankle and achilies heel, which starts giving me pain after fifteen minutes ((proper regular running needs at least a half hour minimum)). I cant afford ether a membership ((in combination with a transportation)) to a gym not can I afford my own personal workout equipment ((this might change, I might get a polatties machine from my friend who doesnt want hers anymore)). This all adds to the fact that I dont have time to do it ether.
Dieting has proven only to work slightly, and it doesnt help that I cant choose what groceries that my family buys. Yes, I am the one who cooks in my house, but you can only cook as healthy as the ingrediants your using. And when your ingridents includes 80% instant, there isnt much you can do. Even then, thats big since the snackout amount used to be in the 90% area back before I started cooking in September. So when youre only using 20% of your food in cooking healthy, dieting is hard. I try though, making sure to only take small, porportioned meals. I guess its doing alot, since Ive lost seven pounds since the last time I weighed myself a couple months ago. But three and a half pounds a month isnt enough when Im currently 176lbs.
So. I thurally appologise for all of it. Until I figure out a new way to lose weight, I will keep on my psuedo-diet. Maybe Ill get lucky and find something, but till then Im sorry.

Tuesday, 20 January 2009

About half a week ago, my mum got a minor surgery done. Her doctors gave her steroids to accel the healing process. Because of the steroids, my mum has had mood swings and has been more cruel than usual
The other day she finally noticed that I have a 12gauge in my left ear and a piercing in my right ear cartlidge. ((this makes it three piercings in each ear, and Im trying to pierce both tagrus'.))
This just fired her up. She starts shouting and raging about how Im trying to make myself ugly and how soon no boys will like me. She brings up how I "suddenly" want dreadlocks ((which is incorrect, Ive been fascinated with them since I was young)) and how I have a "sudden" interest in facial piercings ((which is also incorrect, though Ive only had interest for about six years)). She also brought up my lacking hygene ((something that she took my eighteen years of life to notice)) and my disregard for sanitation ((I had an orange rotting in my room so long I thought that there was a broken bottle of nailpolish somewhere...)) and how I change my style drastically from day to day ((whoever is in the most control chooses the outfit for the day)).
I was mystified.
Did she ever consider that I had taken her words throughout my childhood to heart? Those phrases so symbolic that while I cant remember the words themselves, I know the meanings like a personal code... Phrases telling me that beauty is only skin deep, or how nothing matters so long as your happy with yourself, or how the only opinion of you that truely matters is your own -- did they mean nothing? Were they all a load of shit, meant to sound beautiful when recited but to be disregarded whenever true life stepped in?
I feel like Im lieing to myself every day when I dress the way she wants me to.
I feel like shes ashamed of me.
I also wonder if she ever even thought that our definitions for "ugly" and "beautiful" are drastically and devistatingly different?

Thursday, 15 January 2009

I finally got over one of the people I liked, only to replace it with another.
The one I got over, I had been pinning over since seventh grade. It was only when I realised that he wasnt the same person as that 7th grader that I finally got over him. It was unfair of me to expect anything less. I guess at the same time, Ive changed alot too. Im not naiive at all anymore ((Im actually at the point of cynical, maybe even misanthropic)) and Ive gotten over that childish notion that Im cool because of this or that stupid reason. Ive matured.

Sunday, 14 December 2008

Your Life Crisis: Depression

Emotions
When was the last time you cried?: Earlier today
Are you a very emotional person?: Not really
Do you ever feel left out? When?: Alot, but Ive started to care less // When I hear about people hanging out w/out me
Are you an introvert or somewhat outgoing?: Introvert mainly, but I have my outgoing moments
Do you ever have short/quick, angry outbreaks?: Yeah, when Im stressed
Do you hate anyone? Who and why?: Yeah, but I dont feel like wasting time on them
How useful do you feel to others?: Not at all
Do you think you're depressed? Why?: *shrugs*
Crisis
Are you ever picked on (adult or child)? By who and why?:
Do you ever avoid mirrors because you were disgusted with your image?:
Has anyone close to you died recently?:
Do you believe that your childhood was a:
Do you ever feel left out or get ditched by:
How many good friends do you have?:
How many enemies do you have?:
Are you single?:
Do you want to find love?:
Are your parents divorced, or are there any odd family arrangements?:
Are you labeled in a specific clique?:
Pain & Suffering
Is there a loaded gun in your house? Do you have access to it?:
Have you ever inflicted pain on yourself? How?:
How many personal ways of dieing have you ever thought about?:
Do you ever feel angry enough to kill somebody?:
Do you ever feel guilty about miniscule things you've commited?:
Do you cut?:
Do you ever really intend to end your life?:
Do you dream at night? If so, what about?:
And ect...
Do you ever starve yourself?:
Are you bi-polar?:
Do you like gore?:
Are your actions usually misconstrued by others?:
Do you write poetry? Are you any good?:
Do you draw morbid things quickly?:
What are you afraid of most?:
Do you feel hopeless (about anything)?:
Is your life repeatitive?:
Do people around you irritate you?:
Have you ever cried in public for no reason at all?:
Do you take any medications? What?:
Why do you wake up in the morning?:

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Sunday, 07 December 2008

I do not want to be the slave of my own future. My future is not permanent and will forever be my choice when I arrive at the forks. However, I will forever remain the slave of those who raised me. Today my grandmother was close to sobbing as she held me tight and told me that I am the gem of her life and that she would give me the world if it was in her power to do so. Just by being born, I had saved her from suicide after my grandfather, grand uncle, and my mother's cousin had died all in the matter of only six months. I had saved my mother from suicide. I had saved my aunt from suicide. I was only an infant and I was already shouldering the weight of their choices. Now I am a senior in highschool, eighteen years worth of wasted nurturing and money, and I am still shouldering their hopes and dreams. Every day that I think, for even the briefest of moments, that I have the choice of whether or not I live or die when I am thirty, I am taking everything that they have sacrificed so that I can have a comfortable living and purging the contents of my stomach upon it. Every time that they tell me how I have so much potential to do so much more with my live, how they know it's there because they have seen what I can do when I just put my mind to it, I just want to break down and cry because I know that I am going to do nothing less than dissappoint them and let them down. I am nothing more than a selfish and ignorant bitch that knows how to do everything unsucessfully, and the day that they realise it is the day that I can finally stop hating myself.