Tuesday, August 30, 2011

I don't know what was more disturbing... his description of the inner core reincarnated souls sex orgy... or the fact that the whole thing is written in screenplay format.

I  see lots of UFO's, but no one ever believes me. 

Okay so I know that maybe I spot UFO's a little more often than the average person. A few factors contribute to this:
a.) I spend a bit more time than the average person just sitting staring up at the sky;
b.) I like to think it's my superhuman vision (more likely just one of the side effects of hypervigilance), but I can spot movement in a dark sky without much of an effort. You'd be amazed at the number of night birds and bats and things there are flying around;
c.) I may have watched too many episodes of the X-Files; 
d.) I'm slightly paranoid about space/aliens, so maybe I'm just more observant when it comes to inexplicable flying lights. 

One thing I've seen in the sky has been explained Properly. I kept seeing these little lights that looked like really far away stars, and they move really slowly across the sky. Too slow for airplanes, plus they didn't have any blinking lights. They would just drift across the sky and then fade to nothing. 

And my first thought was always OMG ALIENS!!!

But those little lights are not in fact aliens. They are satellites. 


HOWEVER, satellites do not explain the other lights. Like the brighter ones that hover, dart in all different directions, and vanish. 

Probably they're just weather balloons

Seriously. According to NASA, there's just weather balloons all over the damn place. They can reach speeds in excess of 700 miles per hour, altitudes above 40,000 feet; they even can go invisible. 

They can do all that without strings attached, without people holding onto them or guiding them, and without motors of any kind. 

And people actually buy this explanation. 

Imagine if we explained all paranormal phenomena this way. 

OMG that house is totally haunted!!

Nope, it's just filled with weather balloons.

 I just solved pi!!

No, that's just a weather balloon. 

Jesus came back from the dead?!?

Nope, sorry guys; that was a weather balloon. 

Voldemort is back!!

Negative. Weather balloon. 

Sometimes it really is just a UFO. 

Monday, August 29, 2011

feckin hell

So I went for nearly two full weeks without bingeing. TWO WEEKS. 

And I gained 3 pounds. (I was 102 pounds as of last Thursday morning.)

Then beginning last Thursday, I started eating way too much. It escalated to last night (Sunday), in which I ate way too much Chinese food, felt sickish, and then b/p'ed a Baskin Robbins milk shake (and whatever Chinese food was left in my tum by then). The weekend ended in the same exact pattern most of my weekends have ended for the past several years--after eating way too much, I mentally declare that I SHAN'T EAT AGAIN FOR THREE DAYS; and then Monday begins a starve-a-thon wherein I try not to consume more than 200 liquid calories per day. 

(I'm on 70 calories so far today.)

This can go on for up to five days. (I've never managed to drag it out longer than that.) The first day is usually torturous, because my body is like wtf, gimme some darn FOOD like you've been doing the last 3 days; but then by day three I am Happy again. I'm molesting my ribs, and I might be able to molest my hip bones, too, when I'm lying down. By Friday, when I'm brave enough to get back on the scale, my weight is back down to 98/99 pounds. The Safe Zone. 

In this way, I have maintained the same weight for like 2 years. There have been a few breaks in the pattern--like last autumn/winter I managed to get down to 96, and then over Christmas skyrocketed back up to 108 (I did the same thing the Christmas before). But for the most part, it's me not eating anything all week, stuffing my face on the weekend, and maintaining the same weight. 

This is retarded. 

But my metabolism is clearly so effed up that if I eat what I would consider Safe for a non post-binge week (~400-800 calories a day), I'm not going to lose weight. Apparently I'm going to gain weight if I manage to not binge and keep my intake in that range for 7+ days. During my attempts at recovery, when I was eating up to 1500 calories a day, I only ever maintained or gained. And I'm still over-exercising during all this. (That's a completely different beast than the eating disorder. We try to tackle one thing at a time.....)

So what can I conclude from all this? I have f**ked my body up beyond repair. And apparently, unless I stop eating altogether, I will never be as thin as I fantasize. The best I can hope for is maintaining my safe-weight range (98-100 lbs). 

Imagine for a moment that all you want in life is a flying pony that sparkles, that you can ride to work/school/whatever.

(Because seriously, who DOESN'T want a flying pony that sparkles?)

And you're told by GOD hisself that if you say your prayers every night, eat only foods that have been blessed by a priest, 
go for a daily meditative walk, and get 100% on your test, YOU WILL GET A FLYING PONY THAT SPARKLES. 

So you spend the next 100 years (you're immortal, for purposes of this hypothetical situation) saying your prayers, eating nothing but water and Communion bread, taking your daily meditative walk, and studying really effing hard for that test. And you get 100% on that test.

So you go approach God and say where's my flying pony that sparkles. And God is like oh...

Nope. Sorry. You don't get a pony. Because I don't feel like giving you one. 

Now keep in mind that God is all-powerful and all-knowing. If you get angry with God over this, or threaten God with your becoming an atheist, or anything of that sort, God will give you the Smiting of a lifetime. And send you to Hell. Forever. You have absolutely no choice whatsoever except to continue being a good Catholic. Even though you know God hates you. And you hate God. 

And guess what else? God's gotten kind of fond of you praying every night, eating only Communion bread, taking meditative walks, and studying long and hard. God doesn't really want you to stop. There are no more promises of flying sparkling ponies. You just have to keep working hard now because if you DON'T, God will Smite you. 

Suck on that. 

...Yeah I tried to come up with some kind of vague hypothetical scenario to which everyone can relate and I think I failed. But you get my point. 

We do all these awful things to ourselves--to our bodies and minds--and for what? A fecked metabolism and a whole lot of Crazy, so we can look like chemo patients when we're done. 

Starving doesn't even relieve the anxiety like it used to to. But at this point, the anxiety is WORSE if I don't starve, if I just go back to regular old restricting. 

It's a load of bollocks. 


Oh well. I'm trying to catch up on all your blogs, but it's tough with no internet at home. Irene's epic-ness was apparently only epic enough to leave Bergen County without power/cable/phones/internet/or any combination of the above, and some flooding. Driving to work without working traffic lights and no policemen to guide the retards was so totally fun.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Sometimes I live in the country; sometimes I live in town; sometimes I have the great notion to jump into the river and drown.

Hurricane? Pleeeeeeeeeeeaaasee!!

We scoff at predicted weather apocalypses in my house. We make fun of our friends who are all flying out to the supermarkets to empty their bank accounts on "supplies." 

Ok yeah it's always good to be prepared. But until I see a Category 587874894389 hurricane spewing hellfire all up on the northern east coast, I'm not going to believe that we will have anything more than lots of rain, some wind that may knock out power for a bit, and some flooding in the places that get flooding anyway every time it rains. 

This is the 21st century, folks. And weather-wise, we live in the most boring spot on the planet. 

So yeah, as far as mixing magical Chinese herbs with sleep meds--I did think of that immediately AFTER taking the sleeping pills on Monday night. When it's getting closer and closer to dawn and you need to get at least some sleep in order to function at work at 9.00, you tend not to make good decisions. 

But I'm still here, and MIRACULOUSLY, I have been falling asleep without drugs or alcohol!!! 


First time in something like 8 years? I mean I'm not falling asleep right when I go to bed--it's more like at 1.30 AM or 2, and I'm still waking up every hour or so, but this is still a HUGE improvement. 

I'm currently waiting for Aliens to finish downloading into itunes so I can go to the gym and watch it on the elliptical. 

(And am praying the good people at Planet Fitness are not sissies who will close early because we're about to get a bit more rain than usual.)

Then I'm heading to a supermarket. Not sure which one yet, but I need dinner supplies. I'm hoping some of the nearby ones will still have food items left by the time I get there. Mum, Little Sis, and I are planning on being stranded at home, so we're having what used to be our Saturday Night Dinner before eating disorders ruined that sort of thing. 

If Mum and her 2 youngest children are going to be stuck in the house all night, the only way they know how to behave is to stuff their faces. 

Otherwise we'd only eat each other instead. 

So Saturday Night Dinner: steaks (filet mignon marinated in lite Caesar dressing and broiled), fried onions (there's no way to make that healthy--it's just a load of onion chopped up tiny and sauteed in a pan with butter), and chips (steak fries--in the oven though, not deep fried). This is the ultimate comfort food, and we haven't done this on a Saturday in AGES, so I'm trying not to freak out about the calorie content. 

Plus if we do end up getting a giant hurricane and we're stranded in a post-apocalyptic New Jersey for the next month, I'll need to beef up for when we run out of food. 


Hope you're all having a good weekend! <3

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

No tears, please. It's a waste of good suffering.

I'm really impressed with myself at the general coherence of Saturday's cat post. Because I was WASTED. Went to din with Mum and Step-dad (idk.... this week they're friendly again because the doctor told him he's dying again, and has a year to live [again?], so Mum feels bad for him... again. It won't last because inevitably he will turn back into his usual nasty verbally abusive self.) But yeah it gets kind of awkward going out with the two of them as opposed to just going out with Mum, and I had not eaten anything all day except for an egg on a piece of safe bread, so drinking three glasses of Pinot Grigio in a short period of time ended in me totally fluthered. 

And then I got into a texting argument with Paul#2. He wanted me to come over (that usually means he's drunk and looking for some @ss, or he's trying to pass me off onto one of his friends and I AM SO DONE WITH THAT SH*T). I declined, saying I already had plans to go hang out at Friend's new apartment and maybe we could hang next weekend (which was true, except Friend ended up bailing because she had to work late, but I never told P2 that because by then it was late anyway). Then he gets all pissy saying that I always bail when we try to plan to hang out, and that I never come over anymore and blah blah blah whinge whinge whinge whinge.... 

I started to get mad because not once has P2 EVER driven up to hang out with me close to my house. He didn't even make an effort to come hang out for my last two birthdays. Oh it's too far? You don't feel like having to drive home late? Or you don't want to come because you won't be able to drink too much?? 



Ugh. I'm really sick of people. But I'll get back to that...

So yesterday (Monday), in my never-ending quest for normal sleeping patterns, I went for acupuncture. I had never been acupunctured before, and was rather excited. One of Mum's friends recommended the lady (Tammy, who is Chinese, and fabulous), and said that she treats insomnia, so I thought what the heck. Let's give it a go. 

I was like REALLY excited about this. The way I saw it, acupuncture is like self-harm that is socially acceptable. But I would discover that my expectations were not quite realistic. 

I didn't feel a thing. Not so much as the equivalent of a mosquito bite.

I kept silent though, as I figured she might question my mental state if I suggested she employ the use of some knitting needles and a hammer. 

It wasn't unpleasant--Tammy put on nice relaxing music, put one of those lavender-filled beanbag things on my face, poked me in the arms, hands, head, legs, and feet with miniscule needles, and massaged my arms and legs afterwards. Apparently my chi is weak, and I have a lot of fire in me.

She gave me some herbs:
not a clue
When she suggested "herbs," I had expected something that smelled worse than Valerian root and tasted like a sewer, but I was pleasantly surprised. Those things smell faintly of ginger snaps, and have no taste. 

(And she said she was starting me off on the children's dose, because I'm so small.) 

 So not a bad experience altogether. 

Afterwards, I went home, went to the gym, skipped dinner (and am somehow GAINING weight even though I haven't binged in 8 days?!?!), and--as Tammy instructed--took the nighttime dose of herbal supplements and soaked my feet in hot water half an hour before bedtime. 

I did not expect a miracle cure for insomnia. I figured acupuncture is the sort of thing that would build up effectiveness over time. Sure I was completely open to whatever positive effects it might have on me, but I did not expect that I would suddenly and miraculously be able to fall asleep in a reasonable amount of time and remain asleep for the duration of the night. 

However, I did not expect that I would not be able to sleep AT ALL even after taking my usual sleep meds. Nor did I expect the intense chest pain and racing heart that occurred about 20 minutes after I took my sleeping pills. I was tossing and turning and panicking because I thought I was having a heart attack until I finally fell into a weird half-sleep around 4.00 in the morning. 

And then the Mother of All Nightmares began. 

I'm not going into details. I can't bring myself to write it all down again (it went straight into the dream diary this morning). It involved me slowly losing my mind as a result of not being able to sleep, and ended in me being committed to a mental hospital and injected full of sedatives (which was not all that bad in general, but there was something deeply horrifying about the dream as a whole). 

That was hands down one of the most vivid dreams I have ever had in my life. To the point where I am STILL checking the sides of my neck for the 2nd and 3rd degree burns that were in the dream. And I still get the faint sensation that the skin there on my neck is stiff and numb and kind of achy. I don't think she even stuck any needles in my neck. 

I heard that this sort of thing can be a normal side effect, so I'll go back for a few more sessions and see how it goes...

...Getting back to feeling sick of people....
I think I might take a weekend and go off into the woods alone. I've been checking out the KOA website. I would rent the cheapest one-room cabin they have (no running water or bathroom) and just be a hermit for a few days. I'm thinking the most remote one I can find in New York, New Hampshire, or Maine. 

Will think about that as something to do for the upcoming weekends weekends....

Hope you all survived the earthquake! <3


There was just an earthquake. Like for real. In NEW JERSEY. 

Desk started shaking.       I totally thought it was an acid flashback....

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Rodents of unusual size? I don't think they exist.

Yeah so Monstermania was totally awesome. 

I got to sit in an electric chair. 

And I got the entire serieses (idk how to pluralize that...) of Are You Afraid of the Dark, and Salute Your Shorts on dvd. 

For a grand total of $40. 

I think we may have scared Cary Elwes.

But hopefully I did not scare Lance. 

He signed 2 fabulous photos. 

And I think perhaps I should pursue a new career. 

I don't even need to get paid. I just want to have an ultraviolent mega-blood-and-guts death on a large screen. Then my life would be complete. 

I did not binge this weekend. In fact, I did not eat that much in general this weekend. 

I don't know how I feel about this yet. But I do know that I don't feel anxious, suicidal, depressed, or filthyfat. 


Hope y'all had a wondrous weekend! I apologize for any very drunk comments I may have left last night....

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Because, unlike some other Robin Hoods, I can speak with an English accent.

Anonymous, thank you for your comment. The one that blogger ate is still with us in spirit. <3

Cierra, send me a link to your blog!! I can't find it! Am I following you? Blogger won't let me look at your profile. You too Annie! I think there may have been more, but I forgot to make a list..... If your blog/profile is private, send me a link!! I'd love to read. <3

Nothing can drag you out of a nasty funk like your kitty. And some cats are very good at making you feel better. Callisto, for example....
She really knows how to make you feel better. Or least give you a good cuddle, with purring. If I'm feeling icky, Callisto is usually there, trying to burrow into me and snuggle until I fall asleep. 

Daisy, however, is another story. 

She was never an extremely affectionate cat, so it really shouldn't come as a surprise at this point. When you're feeling sick/suicidal/sh*tty/etc, Dairy really does give a f*ck. Unless of course you have arranged yourself on this one specific chair in the living room, with your feet up on the ottoman--then Daisy will come sleep on you. 

Otherwise, Daisy just wants to sleep.

And eat.

But mainly sleep.

She used to be kind of a spastic. But now, at 7 years old, all she does is sleep. Occasionally she'll venture outside and kill something, or stalk something and think about killing it before taking a nap. Once in a while, she has her random spazz-freakouts. But most of the time though, she just sleeps. Like 22 hours a day.

A big change from when she was a kitten. Back then, she was a TOTAL PSYCHO. 

Aside from having freakishly large ears, 

she used to attack anyone and everyone who tried to sit in the living and watch TV. 

She would stalk you silently. 

And then when you least expected it..................

And it happened so fast that you had no time to process it. She would attack your head, and then vanish. You would be left emotionally scarred and hyperventilating. 
I love cats.




Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Now that I've gotten a good whinge out of my system....

You are all far too good to me. <3

I feel slightly better. Not even remotely "Ok," but better. 

I really don't resent my parents that much for my childhood. For the most part, they did the best they could with what they had. Mum knows she effed up and does try to make up for it. 

Dad, however, is another story. But I haven't the energy to be pissed off about that anymore.

I think the last post didn't come out quite right, anyway. It wasn't really directed at my parents. But when you're as frayed as I am at the moment, 'tis difficult to put it into words. 

So I'm going to keep dragging my bloated, decaying carcass out of the muck. At least, out of the muck of self-hatred and wallowing. Because I hate wallowing. Recovery is still getting the FU. I need to sort out the mess in my head before I can attempt to recover from my various hang-ups. 

Going to go blaze, and then go to the gym. (Trading one drug for another? Maybe. But at this point, FECK IT.)

Hope all of you are having a better week than I am. <3

This is me at my most masochistic.

I debated posting this. But I think I need to just get it out....
I'm in a bad place. A place full of extreme self-loathing. And I'm going to rant. 

Yes, I am well aware that I am not worth anyone's time. This has been a constant in my life for as long as I can remember. 

Oh I'm sorry. Am I being melodramatic? 

If you could see the things I'm thinking of doing to you, you would have heart failure while bleeding out of your eyeballs.

I'm not sure exactly to whom I'm addressing this. Perhaps all of them. Perhaps just a few. Perhaps just one at a time. It's all the same in the end. What I'm saying is that I don't care if you think I'm being melodramatic. You never wanted to listen to begin with; I can't see why any of you would choose to listen now. 

[I don't mean you, my followers. I mean all the Yous I can't actually address.]

I suppose it's a bad sign when not even your parents want you. 

Yes, we can laugh about it now--how funny it was that Mich's first language was Jamaican Patois, that she didn't lose the accent until the end of the first grade. And then that funny accent she has now, the one that's gotten stronger some years, weaker in others. The hybrid accent of one who has spent too long crossing the ocean over and over again, shunted back and forth between parents, step-parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends, nannies. Never long enough to get really comfortable. Never long enough to know what Home really means. Never long enough to know how to really relate to other people. 

And actually connecting with other people on an emotional level? That's almost funny.

I'm so tired.

And Fat.

 I can't sleep. And when I can, it's only nightmares. 
Awful, violent, soul-crushing nightmares.

I can't do this anymore. 

Screw recovery. Let the demons have me. All of them--Ed, Ana, Asp, the knives and the fire.  At least I know they won't leave me. And I take great comfort in the fact that they might kill me before things get worse.

Monday, August 15, 2011

We ain't one-at-a-timin' here; we're MASS communicating!!!

So there I was yesterday, driving up to Dad's house to visit Little Bros #1 and 2, and I discovered that I had a fly in my car. 

Idk what it is about me and my car that attracts bugs, but it's getting annoying. 

You know how those flies are. They really like your head. 

Which is kind of dangerous when you're behind the wheel of a moving vehicle.

Because it's not like you can just let it fly all up in your face without at least trying to swat it. 

Didn't get to see boy this weekend. :( He got stuck at a family bbq on Saturday. And then Sunday he and his buddies thought it would be a good idea to play golf. In really intense rain. 

But he wants to do something tomorrow night, so that's good I guess. It would have been tonight, but I lied and said I had my writing group because I NEED to go to the gym, because I am a fat heffalump. 

Speaking of which, here is the recipe for my s'mores cookies!! I mostly put this recipe together myself, because I was dissatisfied with the ones I found on the internet. They were all basically just chocolate chip cookie recipes, only with marshmallows and crumbled graham crackers in the cookies as well. I wanted to make something that actually tasted like a s'more, so I went back a step and looked up how to make graham crackers from scratch. Then I altered that recipe slightly so that the cookies would be chewy instead of crispy like a graham cracker. 

The recipe is HUGE--it yielded 6 dozen cookies, so you can cut it in half if you don't need that many. I'm just posting it exactly as I made it.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Prep a few cookie sheets with a sheet of parchment paper. 

You will need:
- 2 cups flour
- 2 cups crushed graham cracker (I put it in a food processor to crush it up really fine)
- 2 cups dark brown sugar
- ~1 tbsp. honey
- 6 packets Splenda
- 2 tbs. vanilla extract
- 1 1/2 cups softened butter
- 2 eggs
- 2 tsp bicarbonate of soda (lol.... I love that) ((that's baking soda))
- 1/2 tsp. salt
- 1/2 tsp. cinnamon
- small marshmallows
- 1 bag milk chocolate chips

To make:
- In a large bowl, combine the butter, sugar, honey, eggs, and vanilla.

Mix them up real good. 

- In a separate bowl, combine the flour, graham cracker crumbs, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon.

- Gradually add the flour mixture to the butter & sugar mix. 

- And mix that up real good. 

- Then mix in the entire bag of chocolate chips. 

- I started out using a teaspoon to spoon the mix onto the cookie sheets, but then realized that I would end up baking for the next 4 hours and have like 12 dozen cookies. So after the first batch I switched to roughly a tablespoon measure. Space the cookies about an inch or an inch and a half apart, and then press the mini marshmallows into the top.

Those were the smaller cookies. For the bigger cookies, I used 5 or 6 marshmallows per cookie. You don't want to mix the marshmallows into the batter because if any of them end up poking out the bottom of a cookie, they will turn rock hard in the oven from contact with the cookie sheet.

- Bake them for exactly 6 minutes. Then let them cool on a rack. 

They tasted AMAZING. At the larger size, they were roughly 120-130 calories per cookie. I think I ate like 20. 

Will catch up on all your blogs today, hopefully!! <3

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Am I going mad, or did the word "think" escape your lips?!?

Tomorrow, I will not have time to work out.

I just got back into a good exercise regime (read: over-exercise 6 or 7 days a week). What with disruptions like the beach, barbecues, birthdays, and boys, I hadn't been exercising so much. But I just had 4 decent workout days in a row.
Imagine you're on a ship and it's on fire and things are exploding and it's sinking, and you're about to die.

But then you find a lifeboat and you're saved!

That's what it felt like being on the elliptical for an hour.

Super stylin', too. 
yeah I know it's a crappy photo
Stole the sweatpants from Little Sis. You can tell they're not mine because I would never buy trousers with writing on the bum.

They're comfy, though. Super soft. She wouldn't give them to me, so I "accidentally" took them out of the laundry pile and then cut the bottoms off (I'm a midget--I need to cut the bottoms off of most things...). Sis is normal height, so when she took the sweatpants back they looked absolutely ridiculous on her. She had no choice but to let me keep them.

That's how I have acquired a lot of her clothes. It's brilliant if you think about it. 

( ゚▽゚)

Last night, I came in from having a ciggie and there was a rather large cricket waiting in the kitchen. 

I think the fact that I don't really kill bugs is old news at this point. Even when under extreme physical stress, I feel bad killing bugs. 

This is becoming a nightly occurrence in the kitchen. Idk if the same cricket is coming back, or if they're all different crickets.

I use the same cup each time a cricket finds its way up from the basement. It's been designated the Cricket Cup. 

Catching those things under a cup is not easy. Their antennae are like six inches long, and they can jump like 10 feet. Know what happens when something that can jump that far jumps from under a cup? If the cup is too light, it's going to escape. With the cup. 

I'm a pro now. I can even make sure their antennae are all the way in the cup, so they don't hurt themselves. 

And then get a piece of paper to make the bottom.

And then slide a piece of something sturdier under that (I've been using Little Sis's college applications). Carry the cricket outside, and release it back into the wild.

Or more likely, to find its way right back into the house. 

Am barbecuing tomorrow. Some friends I haven't seen in a while are coming to visit from Staten Island. Mum invited a few of her friends. I invited a few of mine, including the boy (?!?), who might come a bit later.

The surest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I am making ribs, bbq chicken, hamburgers, and a grilled vegan pizza for one of my friends. 

And s'mores cookies. I'll be documenting those. I more or less invented it by combining a few recipes I found from other people, plus my own personal touches. Hopefully they shall be fantasmic. 

Hope you're all having a good weekend so far! <3