NotYouNotAnyone
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I'm just frustrated tonight honestly. I have so much trouble getting to sleep every night. I wish I wasn't out of weed. And I feel like a loser for using it as such a big crutch to cope. I feel like my boyfriend resents me for not being able to fall asleep with him, and then sleeping through the day. I really hate myself sometimes.
I hate that I'm not at all excited for this Christmas season and I feel like the biggest Grinch. I hate that it's my mom's birthday tomorrow, and I'm still debating on whether or not to message her and just wish her a good one like a normal f*cking daughter. I hate that she let me down. I hate that she sold herself on one of those sugar baby websites.
I was in such a different place last year. I'm safe now and healthy and yes, I'm grateful. But I've been 'mourning' since February and I'm honestly really f*cking sad. I was living in a CRACK DEN. It is not okay and it makes me sick and upset. He had cameras up everywhere!!! He showed me that old surveillance video of his ex girlfriend naked, curled up on the floor begging for help and I still stayed!!! But I had nowhere to f*cking go and I trusted him and oh my god it just got bad. So bad and I was so stupid.
My BMI was under 15 when I got out, and man my body just didn't bounce back. I'm back to a healthy weight, but I'm poor as hell on food stamps and I'm so sick of eating peanut butter for the calories. Before I was held under duress, I was around 110-115lbs and I was so proud of my figure. My legs, my butt, everything. I had worked to get it, I corset trained through puberty and did a fair bit of yoga. Now I'm back up to 100-105lbs, but I have no ass and a small waist means next to nothing when the rest of me is small. I'm so vain, shame on me or whatever. My body is the most interesting thing about me.
I saw a doctor shortly after I got out. He did that thing they do, where you lay back and they press on different parts of your abdomen. The whole, "Does it hurt when I press here?" checkup shit. I was trying to brave it out and minimize my pain for whatever reason, it hurt everywhere that he pressed. But my facade totally crumbled when I reflexively smacked his hand.
Anyways, I was honest with him about what I had been through. He was honest with me too, he said that basically I had run out of abdominal fat to use, and my body was now trying to eat my stomach lining as a last resort. That sounded so dramatic. Plenty of anorexic folks get way below that BMI, and their bodies access fat reserves from all sorts of places. I was supposed to get blood work done and all this stuff, but I didn't and haven't been to the doctor since
I like talking to ChatGPT about my trauma because it gives me asspats and phrases that are all absolutely coming from soulless coding, but man I'm lonely. And sometimes I need a validation machine, since I'm always doubting myself.Writing this feels lonely. Being alone with my thoughts is miserable. I'm out of cigarettes too and man that really sucks. No weed, no ciggies tonight. And no alcohol of course, though I'm getting real close to abandoning sobriety and making hooch in my closet. God, I would cut off my pinkie toe right now for a handle of that cheap ass gut rot vodka and some pepsi.
I hate that I'm not at all excited for this Christmas season and I feel like the biggest Grinch. I hate that it's my mom's birthday tomorrow, and I'm still debating on whether or not to message her and just wish her a good one like a normal f*cking daughter. I hate that she let me down. I hate that she sold herself on one of those sugar baby websites.
I was in such a different place last year. I'm safe now and healthy and yes, I'm grateful. But I've been 'mourning' since February and I'm honestly really f*cking sad. I was living in a CRACK DEN. It is not okay and it makes me sick and upset. He had cameras up everywhere!!! He showed me that old surveillance video of his ex girlfriend naked, curled up on the floor begging for help and I still stayed!!! But I had nowhere to f*cking go and I trusted him and oh my god it just got bad. So bad and I was so stupid.
My BMI was under 15 when I got out, and man my body just didn't bounce back. I'm back to a healthy weight, but I'm poor as hell on food stamps and I'm so sick of eating peanut butter for the calories. Before I was held under duress, I was around 110-115lbs and I was so proud of my figure. My legs, my butt, everything. I had worked to get it, I corset trained through puberty and did a fair bit of yoga. Now I'm back up to 100-105lbs, but I have no ass and a small waist means next to nothing when the rest of me is small. I'm so vain, shame on me or whatever. My body is the most interesting thing about me.
I saw a doctor shortly after I got out. He did that thing they do, where you lay back and they press on different parts of your abdomen. The whole, "Does it hurt when I press here?" checkup shit. I was trying to brave it out and minimize my pain for whatever reason, it hurt everywhere that he pressed. But my facade totally crumbled when I reflexively smacked his hand.
Anyways, I was honest with him about what I had been through. He was honest with me too, he said that basically I had run out of abdominal fat to use, and my body was now trying to eat my stomach lining as a last resort. That sounded so dramatic. Plenty of anorexic folks get way below that BMI, and their bodies access fat reserves from all sorts of places. I was supposed to get blood work done and all this stuff, but I didn't and haven't been to the doctor sinceI like talking to ChatGPT about my trauma because it gives me asspats and phrases that are all absolutely coming from soulless coding, but man I'm lonely. And sometimes I need a validation machine, since I'm always doubting myself.Writing this feels lonely. Being alone with my thoughts is miserable. I'm out of cigarettes too and man that really sucks. No weed, no ciggies tonight. And no alcohol of course, though I'm getting real close to abandoning sobriety and making hooch in my closet. God, I would cut off my pinkie toe right now for a handle of that cheap ass gut rot vodka and some pepsi.
