shift

i need to get outta here. need a new change of pace. my time here is done. days are numbered. i don't have much keeping me here. i'm scared but excited at the same time. been a long time since i've been there. perhaps there are new experiences, faces, challenges, etc. i'm bored. i need a hallucination....

my rant & confession

the irony is humorous. at best. i smile, no, smirk, at the thought. thank you, women's health and similar "beauty magazines." thank you for fueling the fire of countless eating disorders. the fire of hunger pains of starvation. the fire of being so sad, lonely miserable that only food can fill the emptiness. the fire of control. the fire of hatred. the fire of being out of control. it seems these days, all the magazines are talking about body image acceptance, "big is beautiful," embrace your curves, "happy weight" (whatever the fuck THAT is) and other such pseudo-positivity. the slogan of Women'sHealth is simply "it's good to be you!" in all of these positive image promoting magazines, they have ads for hydroxycut (which i'm guilty of having in my purse right now) and other weight loss methods. not to mention all the cigarette ads when they preach about not smoking. the hypocrisy never ends. it's no wonder almost everyone you know is on some kind of diet (watermelon and green beans is my latest) or dislikes more things about herself than she likes. i have dealt with this longer than i haven't. i'm not trying to point fingers or play the blame game. i just feel magazines like this aren't making it any easier. the models, actresses, singers etc aren't helping. i lost count of how many times i've googled images of kate moss, rail-thin ballerinas, victoria's secret models and other related images over the years. cut out pictures and taped them to my bathroom mirror, makeup mirror, and worse- refrigerator. it just hit me that this rant isn't really going anywhere and i'm not really trying to prove anything. it doesn't have a point, specific flow or an ending. this is just stuff i had charging through my head that needed to get out. i just felt compelled to write this when i read the cover.

and if you'll excuse me, i need to get back to my issue of WH.

keep counting

a talk with a good friend of mine today made me realize that i am far from healed. seems like no matter how long i've been walking down this road (alone, mainly), it never seems to come to an end. it's been with me so long now, i don't know if i remember my life without it. nothing will ever be good enough