HELLLLLOOOOO

 Long time no speak. 

Guess what? It's been years. 

Okay, so. In August 2024 I met a man online, he pushed my anorexia. I reached 46 KG, but then I got diagnosed with hyperthyroidism and it all went down the drain. I would have been happy being this skinny if I wasn't constantly fainting out of the blue.

Okay and I ended things with him then when I met someone else. Julian. 

I don't even know what to say, we knew each other a couple months, at the same time my parents had a pretty bad argument and I was caught in the cross fire. My dad went crazy when he saw I was texting my mom about how I hate him and how much I miss her. 

When I say crazy, I mean ballistic, destructive, criminally so. I called the police at last.

Ran away from home, but they lured me back, my mother was gaslighting me, and she was on the phone with my father, he said "I have known long time ago that she has been going off the rocker". I knew I had to leave, they would lock me in for good. So I left, permanently. They stalked and messaged me, gave me a scare when they showed up with the police at the apartment complex of a friends' place I was staying at. They had hacked my phone for goodness sake! Luckily, I escaped, stayed with Katja, she helped me on my journey to "resocialize" me. I drank, smoked, partied, cut my hair, got gifted her hand-me-downs. It was beautiful, I love her, my angel. I found a shelter then, stayed there for 6 months and worked my ass off at Dunkin Donuts. I went pink, blonde, red, blue, brown, black, purple, blonde again and now I am pink again! Funny little cycle. I love pink. But my hair is so fried, it's a pain to maintain. I gained significant weight though, which sickens me more than anything else. 

Frankly, I'd trade my current body with my hyperthyroidism induced hallucinations if it meant I'd be slender again. God what a waste. 

Also, I worked like one month at McDonald's... DON'T do that, I beg of you, anything but McD's. Save yourself from that soul-draining chaotic hellscape. Their coke zero is yummers though.

Anyway, I have been going to therapy for a little over a month and I filled out some tests, I will bring them to my therapist next Friday. I am at Joey's place, I love that girl so much. And Sammy, I love her, too. But back to Joey, I have been staying with her for a while, but I need to get back to my own flat. I have to move anyway, but I can't be staying at friend's places 247, I hate my "own" place, but I have to bite the bullet and go back. I will move anyway, soon. But for now, I have to make sure to move all my stuff back to my place. Lest I grow roots here. I wanna give Joey her space back, but I don't know, will she be lonely? Will she be relieved? I can't tell, it feels like I've been here for an eternity, it's such a comforting place. Back when Julian was there, I liked coming back to it.

Julian. Right. 

I loved him so deeply, he was my first, and he decided that changing his ways wasn't worth it. We argued and made up but it was always his action and my reaction. I was so exhausted, drained, overjoyed, full of love and suffering and pain. I tried to kill myself a couple times over the grief. One time I thought I was really going to die, it hurt so fucking bad, I thought my heart was about to burst. I was crying so hard that I couldn't breathe or stand or crouch, I had to lie there and suffer, while he was playing games and enjoying his time with his friends. God, I hate him. But I also loved him. Keyword loved. We had a bad argument because he broke yet another promise, and then he broke up with me. I was devastated. I didn't understand why this had to be the last straw when I couldn't even count on my fingers how many times he has pulled genuinely break up worthy bullshit on my fragile heart. 

He wanted contact nonetheless, he stopped saying I love you, stopped calling me by my nicknames, stopped replying, but always expected a reply back, wanted to call, he admitted he wanted my attention. Months and months, I was going insane, my throat still burns and my eyes water. I loved him, I really did, I have never loved anyone like this, I w wanted him to be the one. But I felt he wasn't mine anymore, if he ever was. I felt like heaven was on earth when he visited me and held me and kissed me and cooked for me and went on a bender in the middle of January. When we both got sick, when we ate till we fell into a food coma, when he first tried sushi and fell in love with it, when we watched all of Vinland saga, when he held me while I cried over him. It didn't mean much to him, if anything at all. I am so close to breaking down if I think too much about it. But I have to stay in touch with my emotions, Basti told me to, otherwise I would destroy myself further. 

Julian, if you ever read this, why did you lie? Why did you make me wait? Why did you break my heart again and again and decided to give me the finishing blow after telling me "Die Zeit mit dir in Berlin war das Beste was mir passiert ist". Why didn't you just love me and honor me and give me security? Why did you think I would want to talk after you made fun of me and told me you found another girl? Can you sleep at night? Do you eat well? Are you still telling jokes to your friends? And am I the butt of them?

Are you in Bonn now? 

He broke my heart for almost 6 months from today, and I cut ties with him August 3rd, permanently. He was so shameless, tried to contact me. After HE told me he found another. Good grief. I blocked him every-fucking-where after he called me multiple times at night. I was so scared that he just wanted to hurt me again. I was unwell for a week after that, and then he messaged me per email on August 22nd. I told him clearly, "You made your decision, leave me alone." Silence since then. I really hate to hate you, but if I don't, I'll want you again. And I can't do this anymore. You betrayed me.

And at this time, I was dead inside. Slept bad. If ever. I was constantly out drinking and smoking, I was dressing myself up all pretty while my brain was eating itself alive. Dealing with my innerworld is so so hard. I talked in my sleep constantly. Like every night, I woke myself while speaking in my sleep. Had terrible nightmares each time, and I thought it would never end. I accepted that the fear of going to sleep was my new constant. I had terrible crying spells that never seemed to stop, I wouldn't let anyone see, though. I hid in the bathroom or did it in private. I was imploding.. On the verge of spilling all over the place.

Then I met him. 

Basti. 

Well, he has been there for a while, but we never really acknowledged one another, but we got closer over a conversation on the topic "BPD" during an excursion. He has it, too! I was baffled. 

How did we get super close? He had a bad day, I noticed. Even though I didn't know him well, his tense and silent state was more intense that day. I was worried and texted him, and after he comforted me when I was down, I felt the need to help him. I couldn't leave him alone while he was suffering, no way! He was kind, helped people with his experience in psychology. But who was there for him? I brought beer and snacks, and he was surprisingly accepting of it when I insisted. Well, he didn't really refuse either, I could tell he was trying to reach out and take my hand. 

We drank, smoked, and listened to a ton of music. We talked for hours on end, it never seemed to end. That beautiful night of connection and vulnerability.

Somehow we got closer, both of us went silent, I was so out of it, but I knew what I wanted. And then we kissed. Granted, we were both under the influence, but he couldn't contain himself. I never thought he'd be the passionate kind, but we slept together. It was different for sure, but for some reason I wasn't shy and we fell asleep. The next morning I was grinning like a Cheshire cat, we agreed to keep it casual. He was still healing from him ex as well.. But we still hung out, text sometimes, see each other daily at that place. And neither of us really had anything against it. I found it really sweet when he facetimed me on his vacation, we talked for ages. He showed me how he plays Dishonored 2 (horrible in my opinion, he skips all the lore, which I find disgraceful) and that little game he loves, "The Binding of Isaac" or something. Interesting, to say the least. And Megabonk.

But at some point, keeping it secret was a pain, so obnoxious really when you have to keep it lowkey while everyone's got their snout in your business. He told me to just tell them. And I did, and guess what? He revealed to me that he told our mutual friend like a week ago.. That bastard, seriously, here I am worrying my head about being caught and him? Shameless. He really is shameless, like zero self-consciousness. But self-aware for sure. We had some talks and whenever either of us messed up we made up instantly. And honestly, he's sweet, very understanding. 

However, I still feel like I have to be perfect, at least in the sense that I can never ever hurt or disappoint him, or else I will DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hello there, gorgeous

 What have I been doing? So far, I am in my 4th semester and I still don't like it. The professors are nice and I am crushing on one of them. So. I feel dizzy all the time, super sensitive to sound, touch, light. I get so stressed easily I have to clutch my head and sit down or pace around and organize stuff. My back is killing me and my sleep schedule could be better.

One thing I can say with certainty is, that it will get better. I am 52,2 kg. Still. I know.

I barely eat and my commute of 1 1/2 hour doesn't seem to matter to my body because the number won't BUDGE. My skin has been bad, I am building up the courage to see my doctor, maybe he can run a test and tell me what's up. If he dares suggest a gyno or the pill I amd definitely refusing, because hello?

I also need to see a dermatologist, because my skin has never been worse. Dry, rough, oily and patchy and so INFLAMED. Not just my face but my decollete area and my back, shoulders in particular.

On a positive note, I have been turning to Jesus Christ. He gives me such comfort, I don't feel the pressures of the world knowing He is watching over me. 

No, I am not crazy, I am not having spiritual psychosis, that was last year.

I used to proudly declare I am interest in paganism, that is no more. If I am being honest, I only care cause my online "boyfriend" was some sort of "witch". He thinks of himself as God, how embarassing can one get? Anyway, I pray for him, because clearly he is deluded in many ways. He tattooed his name on my neck, we have never even met face to face! I would much rather avoid him for good. He claims to love me but I know better, I know no one can love me like God does. His love is pure and unconditional, nothing a heathen can replicate, he lies and tells me the things I would have liked to hear. but now his words disgust me. 

Not with God. 

God makes me happy and I don't need more than that, although I crave certain things I know I'm just a human, imperfect and full of sin. And yet God loves me, he created me after his image and likeness, how crazy is that? And the best thing is.. It's my choice, I didn't just feel intrigued but I feel I belong.

 He wants me, He owns the skies but He wants my heart. 

And I need and love Him

I am still shy about writing letters, I do pray but with my nosy and pushy parents it's hard finding peace and comfort and the courage to pray without feeling rushed. I will try better though, I want a study Bible, a crucifix and a rosary at some point. And an own home. With people in my life I get to choose and that God approves of.

Amen !

 

Scabs and bruises, woodland critter

I figured since I am not doing anything but consume it is time to create, not everyone can say they run a blog. (although I mainly do so because the other alternatives which are "shouting into the void" or "self-harm" aren't available to me.)

I keep clenching my jaw, I tried to stop myself from doing so but it's like I unlearned how to relax which is ironic given the fact I do nothing of substance, aside from procrastinating and fiddling with my cellphone, I go mad like a march hare without stimulation. 

Went on a little self-discovery journey, trying to forget everything I know and rebuild the foundations, it would be easier if I gave up everything and everyone from the physical and digital world (going MIA) and moved far far away, maybe change my name as well. Get a cat, grow my hair 3 foot long and only eat what I find in the woods. I'm joking, or am I? If reincarnation is real I ask the universe to consider rebirthing me as a deer, or bunny, or a fish, maybe a cat. Pretty please. 

The universe is vast and eternal and death and life go hand in hand and push each other on the swing, they take turns, too. That's harmony and it's what I want. I am waffling, yapping, babbling, runnin my mouth. I'm so happy I'm able to. Thanks universe for giving my soul a body, thank you world for having beauty and horror all the same. I just learned a new word: Jiving, it was a typo that was falsely automatically corrected by my PC. Jiving is a dance style but it's also a verb, similar to taunting or sneering. Swell, am I right?

I am tired of outer influences invading my brain and dictating how I should operate my mind and express myself, so I will disregard anything that doesn't already resonate with or serve me. I am not saying I am building up my walls, but I am keeping unwelcome negativity at bay through CURATION.

My pursuit of a lithe figure has been picked up again, I am nowhere near thin enough, my end goal is resembling a fairy, or a doe, maybe something akin to a ghost? Either way key words are ethereal, angelic and out of the world! I have gained a couple pounds lately, I'm at 51,8 kg... Been stuck there because my workout usually is 4 hours of walking daily, which is hard to do without my parents getting suspicious again. 

The problem with them is that they notice bodily change pretty quick because Russia had that anorexia scare in the 2000s-2010s where talk show hosts would invite families and their disordered daughters (primarily daughters) to talk it all out, literally. I always wonder how those girls really felt and what they thought being put on blast on TV, nationally, Russia is not small. 

I am still enamored with Mads Mikkelsen's depiction of Hannibal Lecter...

If I had landed on a TV show that the whole nation watches I would have dissociated and answered questions like a Gold student (practice beforehand). Basically lie, lie, lie. Public humiliation can have two drastic outcomes: "Betterment" or the coup-de-grâce for one's mental health.

French vanilla scones... I need them.

I want to reach BMI 18 by June. I used the Harvard BMI calculator.

I mean, it should be manageable, the cold seasons make it hard to conjure up any semblance of motivation, but I don't think I suffer from depression, let alone the seasonal kind, so the spring and sun will give me the strength to keep going. The first thing I'll do upon reaching that goal.. I'll make a list.

Goals once I hit BMI 18 (44.4 KG):

- Buy chic & feminine clothing

- Start taking cute pictures

- Sign up for skinnygossip

- Eat sweet pastries like a princess

Concluding this segment with the admission that I've had an eating disorder for a little over 3 years now and it has been an on-and-off, I was never one to binge when I'm emotional, frankly my eating habits resemble a stray cat that occasionally gets taken in by people and eats like a queen but eventually ends up back on the street chewing on scraps. I don't think that's anorexia, but I read a book about a girl with an anorexic-bulimia mix, and everyone called her an anorexic straight up, so I am confused. I might do a couple online tests to see how I fit in.

I used to be obsessed with that 3D-BMI visualizer but it's so inaccurate I'm surprised it wasn't taken down for the sheer incredibility of it(apparently they made a new one. And it's a nightmare to navigate and still inaccurate.)

I'm clumsy though so perhaps the site is on point and it's on me, I get bruised pretty easily and cut, too. It's my pale thin skin, I look like a corpse or something and my veins show in that blue color, it's quite embarrassing.

A very honest and raw breakdown of what I've been up to

Greetings! I need to find a better way to start blogs, but I've been very obsessed with writing, not the the way I should be... Evident by the dust bunnies collecting in my blog drafts. Sorry! 

It's 2024, oh my goodness, it's January, the first! 

I have not changed, I think, hard to tell I seem to adapt to the seasons. Actually, I think I have undergone some metamorphosis(I have yet to finish that book, shush).

I am no longer being dragged down by my now ex, and I also have rediscovered my affinity for older, mature men. A round of applause for Mads Mikkelsen.

 

Isn't he gorgeous? I can't believe he's an official GILF, no longer a DILF, I have yet to come to terms with the fact that I am indeed attracted to him. Okay enough of that.

Since I broke up with Khy I have wondered why I was in a relationship to begin with, it didn't serve me anything, like at all. Aside from an aversion of committing myself to someone and trusting them with my feelings, since people absolutely love hurting and ridiculing them.

In fact it distracted me from university and now I am unsure how to fix it. I need to study but I have zero intention to or motivation, I just feel lonely and foreign at that place. And although I am grateful I got the chance I am starting to regret it, law simply is boring, beyond complicated and dysfunctional in many regards. And yet? It teaches me to rationalize things, I haven't been more somber than during a criminal law lecture. There is this sense of oppressive collective silence, it's not that I refuse to participate, I quite literally have nothing to add to the discussion.

Well......

me if you even care

Roll your eyes, I deserve it! 

I ended things with Khy a while ago, around mid-August or so, and now it's confusing because we are still friends but he won't let it go and frankly it's been putting a mental strain on me. Because he means a lot to me but his constant and desperate attempts at trying to weasel himself back into "boyfriend" territory makes me resent him more, because why won't he respect my wishes? Like, at all? When I was his  girlfriend he was worse I'd say, ignoring me when I'm unwell, or ridiculing me straight up, and now he claims it never happened, that he has changed, but I don't feel the change at all. He may have settled down now that he no longer has the emotional leverage he used to, but he's still on his bullshit.

So I have been less forgiving with his attitude, because he is now a friend not my partner. Aside from that he is shamelessly trying to gaslight me, which would have worked if I was still depressed and dependent on him. Nowadays I just roll my eyes and count down the minutes until he stops his crap.

He will never change.

Born under the full moon

Khy, whom I consider my husband already, turned 24 on the 21st of January! My favorite number, after 7. 

So I tried to stay up for him, I think I did well until 6:30 AM when the smoke detector went off in the living room, ripping the overlord, aka my dad, out of his slumber. I feigned sleep but you know, you can't fake something like that, you will fall asleep eventually. And so I did, shameful, I hate myself for being so weak, coffee doesn't work like it used to, those pills just make me needy and I can't eat food when I'm not in the mood. 

We watched Underworld (2003) and I liked it, even if it was a little cheesy with the hissing and werewolf stuff. 

Yes, I know

I abandoned you, but look I have a good reason: I have been busy with something. Or rather, someone, remember the man I code-named "Rain"? Now that he knows of this blog too it's only fair I address him by his real name. 

Khy. Much like his name suggests, extraordinary and one of a kind. Sometimes I find it hard to figure out that brain of his, but most of the time it is delightful to explore. We've known each other since July 2022, that was over 6 months ago. Since then we've grown very fond of each other, by September I was done for, smitten. October it became official I'd say. And from then it is a messy and mostly sickly sweet back and fourth. The L word became second nature. I was less than happy with that, I feared it would lose its value but it still sets butterflies off in me. I became accustomed to random bursts of love and even when I felt like being bitchy I took the mature route and talked it out. And just earlier today I had my own moment, if you have read my previous posts you know I am a bit bratty. 

So Khy knows how to crack my shell, no matter how often I try to hide from him he finds a way, like the song "cinnamon girl"- But honestly I'd like to think that I am pretty successful at peeling his layers, too. It's balanced, a give and take. We pull each other out of slumps and I absolutely adore it. 

Now zodiac signs are seen as controversial and silly but I believe it. I'm a Libra, I love balance and harmony, I love making peace and solving conflicts. I am not a dummy, it makes sense if you think about it. Science and spirituality are intertwined. They seem very opposed to each other but that is not true. As above, so below. Yin and yang, yadda yadda...

Khy has that thing too, he is a witch. He just knows things, he works hard and gets what he aims for. If you aren't in love with him already, have I mentioned he has a black cat named Akane?? Beyond precious, she's a proper lady.

It's a little awkward writing all this down as if I had an actual audience, well I do but it's KHY so it's even weirder LOL!! I admire him even if I tease him often, call him dummy, pervert and variations thereof. 

He is so Hhshendidjxkidmejelxidk I love him, even if he thinks he's hurting me or snaps at me. I think he's attractive regardless of how he treats me but I am so grateful that he owns up in the end. He wants to go to uni and I hope he gets where he wants to be, I will support him no matter what he chooses to do. Always 

XX

Karina 

I am going to eat 500 kcals worth of chicken nuggets tonight

 

Music is good, domestic violence sucks

How long has it been since he died? a little over 4 years, it still feels so unreal. 2017 was an interesting year, musically and for me personally. You would discover the next upcoming rapper/ singer and be blown away by how relatable the lyrics are, how beautiful the sound was, and how many emotions come up in you. 

And then there was XXXTENTACION! (And Shiloh Dynasty, whoo!) 

When I first heard his music, a collaboration with Shiloh Dynasty, "Jocelyn Flores" I thought "wow I'm so deep and my emotions are so profound". Then I realized something, yes, sadness can be beautiful, it can inspire you, and it can create art just like happiness does. But it can be detrimental.

Back then I was just a kid, 15, and still naive and childish. I didn't know what "domestic violence" "child abuse" or "mental health" was. I just knew my parents were different from the ones of other kids. They can go outside and play, have fun with friends, have sleepovers, have birthdays, and have parties. Not me. I have siblings, what do I need friends for? I own a bunch of toys, no need to play outside and parties? I can eat cake, blow up balloons, and dance (in moderation) at home in my room. "Home" slowly became a prison, the more I noticed things were.. off about my family. 

At first, I thought nothing of it, what was I supposed to think? I was 15 and watched barbie movies and snuff films and played with Barbie dolls, not Ken dolls. I discovered girls kissing is nice to look at, and I discovered it was wrong, too. I was scared and secretive but indulgent, I drew badly scribbled sketches of two girls kissing and hugging and ripped them apart and hid them. 

I learned that I am sad, and very deeply affected by the things I considered "Normal", I am emotional and I lash out and I hide things and steal things. The breaking point was meeting X, he put my feelings into words, sounds, and music. I never really thought about him though, I just listened to the music and read the lyrics, I suddenly loved singing. 

His death however didn't hit me(no offense), when I found out his age, I felt how fragile life really was. But back then, I was living in an illusion, a bubble that does not allow anything from the outside to influence the inside. "What happens at home, stays at home." And vice versa. It felt like my fate to stay locked inside, away from people, I'm not like them. So I made it my personality, I became cold and distant, I sat in the back of the class, stared out the windows, napped, or drew awful things. People thought I was morbid for that, but sometimes I would break that shell and smile and laugh and make jokes. And I would regret it every time, I am sure my friends got whiplash from my erratic behavior. 

And when I tell you, "No one cares" I am being serious. I am 100 % sure I was suffering from depression back then, and no one noticed, not my friends, seatmates not even the "pedagogically trained" professionals, the teachers. 

I was done dirty, I gave up and I was dropped when I stopped being happy-go-lucky. But let's be for real for a moment, even when I feigned happiness I was not appreciated. 

I was a people pleaser and I knew. I was altruistic and selfless and it got me nowhere. I am still here in this hellhole, I hate all of my siblings and can't stand to be near my dad for more than 5 minutes. And my mom? She hates me, I am just a freak to her. I lost 3 kilograms and yet I feel like cutting myself. 

I want to run away until my feet grow blisters and my legs hurt, I would do it if it meant I can be free. I would rather be homeless and without food and shelter than here. I want to be far away from Berlin, I want this city to burn down I want a bomb to hit my family, and I want to have an excuse to flee. 

Because my safety and well-being aren't enough.

Thoughts on TCC

So, like any other bored teenage girl surfing the web, I stumbled across a video describing a horror story about hundreds of women going missing and reappearing, dead and in horrible condition. It shocked me at first, obviously, I knew murderers exist but I never cared to look into it further. Bless the victims' and their families hearts and curse the perpetrator. Of course, it wasn't my first contact with the "crime" media, horror and I go way back. I remember snippets of my childhood, spent hiding behind my parents who sat on the living room couch at midnight and watched the horror movie they put on, with them thinking I'm sound asleep in bed. 

I was fascinated, shocked, scared, and confused at first. But most importantly curious; How can people be so cruel? Why did nobody notice? Why didn't they get punished accordingly? 

Back then, I was simple-minded, thought the world was constantly bettering itself because grannies are nice and candy tastes good and the sunshine is so warm on my skin. But that is because I was blissfully unaware of what was happening around me, all around the world. Somewhere someone is getting violated, killed, threatened, is running for their life of killing or planning to kill someone. I could be watching Spongebob Squarepants, the episode in which Garry goes rogue and think "This is the saddest thing ever" mourning Spongebob's loss, meanwhile someone else passed away somewhere. 

The point is, as soon as I got connected to the internet and its endless information my hope diminished. I became mistrustful, and skeptical and even had a phase in which all I felt was misanthropy for the world. I felt some sort of pleasure from hearing of other people's downfall, thinking "so what? There are people who are worse off".

True crime videos became fun to watch, I was more amazed at the ways people could kill or were killed, felt irritated when the criminal was convicted and interacted with that part of TCC on Tumblr. I thought some of them were cute and so edgy, watching "We need to talk about Kevin" didn't help. I seemed to be a hopeless cause. 

I feel ashamed even recounting my memories because I genuinely can not tell you why I felt that way. 

Until I found a study case about the women who sent love letters to scum such as Ted Bundy. These women seemed normal on the outside, well groomed and dressed, trusting faces and all. But the loving way they spoke about a vile pedophilic misogynistic serial rapist and killer frightened me, the second I saw those videos of interviews my heart dropped. I realized I could've been one of them if I were any older and more desperate. I suddenly felt disgusted, at first I thought "I would never" but after accepting it, something changed in me. My love for horror and the obscure became tainted, I had nightmares too realistic for comfort, and I finally snapped out of it. 

This period in my life was very brief, maybe 1 month at most, I frequent the internet outside my personal interest bubble a lot so maybe that is why I saw reason early on. It was like I was saved from becoming worse, I am still grateful for YouTubers, who do a much better job at educating the general public than TV Shows. 

I am however forever grateful this extremely guilty pleasure was just that and I grew out of it. 

The End and The start

I have been absent again, I lost another member of my family. So mean, right? But it still feels unreal, it feels like she's just on a long, long vacation and that I will see her again. Is it normal to feel like that? I cried lots and I missed her dearly, but I can't wrap my head around the concept of death, in theory, it's simple. But in reality? It feels unreal. I'm being pranked. I'm watching a horror movie and after the credits, she will come up behind the silver screen and bow a couple of times to the applause for her excellent performance. 

It feels like if I stare long enough and don't make a sound I will catch her moving, breathing, her eyes moving behind her sunken eyelids. If I make a funny joke she will laugh and break the spell, or if I catch her off guard she will stir. 

But I haven't even seen her, her empty body. I imagine it sometimes and freak myself out, it feels forbidden. Maybe I can't face it yet? But when will I be able to, if not now? I hope I don't sound cliché. I guess the movies are good at portraying death, in some instances grief too. But it doesn't feel like it's enough, not enough tears, screaming, sorrow. There is no expression sad enough, the eyes not dull enough and I am reminded they are mirroring me. People like me, who have lost someone. 

Maybe that is why I stare in the mirror when I catch myself crying, to see how convincing my sad face comes across, if my tears are plenty, and whether or not my eyes tell my story. But I see nothing. 

In cartoons or anime, for instance, you can immediately tell what their emotions are. I'm not saying I'm measuring my authenticity on that standard, but I sometimes wonder if anyone has ever caught someone's eyes visibly going empty, their skin becoming dull and their overall mood turning numbing. 

Like a gust of wind that signals their feelings. In books, they describe it as suffocating, brooding, foreboding, the shivers going down their spine, the weight on their shoulders bringing them down. 

I thought if I feigned nonchalance in a nihilistic way my feelings would match my behavior. Such a lie. What is worse than feeling like you can't allow yourself to be sad? Is someone else forbidding it? 

I could feel pressure, if I cry now, it won't bode well. No one likes delivering bad news, because then you have to play the game of "should I be honest about my feelings or spare them?" Spare who exactly? He didn't spare me, so why shouldn't I return the favor? Will my perseverance be rewarded? And if so, can I choose the prize?

If I find the answer to that, maybe I can move on. 

Autumn keeps me hopeful

Is that true? Is that what grief is supposed to feel like? When I first heard she died, I felt my chest squeezing and twisting in a jerking manner, I didn't move though, in fact, I went still. My throat hurt, and I wanted to gasp out for air. But all I did was nod and lower my gaze. When he left and I had a chance to let it out, I don't remember anything after that, I don't recall my reaction. 

His words soothe me

On a positive note, the guy I called "Rain" in my last post really seems to like me. And I like him too.. I can't begin to describe it, I just know I like our dynamic and the way he makes me feel. He is like a star in the vast plane of the universe, somehow he is twinkling more than the rest of them, but he's my secret. I am in no way ashamed of him, no. Quite the opposite, I'm too proud and possessive to share him with anyone. His brilliance is for me alone. I prefer to keep my romantic relationships private and even calling them "romantic" is too much information for my comfort. This is more than just romance. It's better. 
The only flaw I see in him? He isn't fully mine yet, he lives elsewhere, far from me. But that can be changed, and that flaw in itself is not the fault of his own, I could never resent him, even if he were imperfect. 
Xx

Brain rewiring in progress..

So it's been a very very long while since I've touched this blog. There's been so much going on, but I feel like if I were to write it all down I will jinx it all. 

I was in Russia for vacation, it was boring but I saw everyone I wanted to see. My cousins were there too, I love those too. But I'm worried about their eating habits, as a fellow disordered Person, it hurt to see them suffer. I feigned ignorance, cause there really isn't a right way to approach this. It's even worse cause they're younger than me, so I naturally feel overprotective of them. I want to help them without making a big deal about it... But alas. 

If I can't help myself, how am I going to help others? They might be anorexic subconsciously, but I am anorexic and I know it, I strive to starve, they starve cause of stress, homesickness, and whatnot. I want to help, I really do. I want to look at food and think: "Yummy." Without worrying about gaining, my body weight, my appearance.

I feel paranoid just writing on this blog, imagine if I were to voice my concerns. No one will take me seriously and I don't want their attention, or their pity, or for them to worry. I used to, but back then I was a spiteful and selfish little child. I am going to hit the 20 years mark in just over a month. It's time I snap out of it, but my heart does parkour whenever I think about going outside in public while being over a BMI of 20. I need to get help, but knowing my family and my financial situation, there is no use. 

I miss my mom too, she's been ... out, busy. She has her own troubles right now and the best I can do is keep everything up and running while she tends to her own concerns. 

I want to try and make cinnamon rolls, I have been wanting to for months now. 

Speaking of pastries reminds me of how much I miss the cold, the colorful breeze, the rainy days, and the misty mornings. I can't wait for fall, in my eyes fall is time for healing, for a new start. I just want everything to be alright again. 

On a more positive note, I feel like I have been bonding with my father, doing chores together, looking over documents, and such. I have to put my little sister to bed since I'm the oldest kid here. I am so lucky my dad is still on vacation because that means he can help me out without being stressed from work. Still, I find myself walking around on eggshells with my brothers, I just can't stand the sight of them. Their very presence sours my mood. They have been the least helpful out of all. 

I've been watching Safiya Nygaard's videos lately, I don't know what it is, I guess it's my inner child craving to see "Franken-soap" "Franken-wedding-cake" "Franken-lipstick". She does experiments that my intrusive thoughts keep suggesting to me. Melt this! Mix that! Cut this up! No need, Safiya does it for you. 

It's strange though, I used to avoid her videos, was it out of spite? Probably. 

I've made a friend, his name starts with ...  Never mind, I won't tell you! I will codename him "Rain" though. Rain messaged me on instagram and since then we've been talking. He's interesting, kind of confusing, but he listens to me and I don't find it hard to hear him out. I usually get sick and tired of people quickly. Maybe we can be longterm friends? He has a cat, she's adorable!! 

Soon I'm going to University, canyou believe that? I am so excited, I want to prove that I am back from my depression, that I can study well and that I am capable of doing well academically. It's my chance to fix my life, to prove to myself that I am still salvageable. I am not lost, I can do it. So, it's late, I have been sleeping better. I mostly fall asleep before midnight which is amazing! So I am saying goodnight to you!

(yes it's full moon tonight!)