Good News!

Finally, i have some good news to share! I think i unintentionally kicked roommate out. Either he got offended by the "House Rules" i posted in a prominent place or he overheard my rampage about how he never cleans up after himself after i found his hair dye mess all over the shower AND Fate's bath loofa. Whatever the cause, he just rushed out the door with his bike, phone, and a blanket (maybe with something else in this blanket?), mumbling "See you someday/Sunday," (i couldn't tell which) as he went out. I don't regret what happened at all. At first i felt a little bit bad because i hadn't said what i said about him to his face, but then i thought about it and realized he would have argued that i was wrong, and i would have gotten extremely angry and blown up in his face, so it probably would have ended more badly that way. I hope he's gone; i really do. This place will be so much cleaner and safer for my daughter without him. It will be much more pleasant for everyone too, since i won't be constantly depressed about cleaning up after his lazy ass. He also enjoyed using up all the more expensive groceries Jesse and i bought and never buying anything we could use. He was just freeloading the whole way, and i know it! I'll be so sad if this is just false hope, because i'm so excited about it. I'm not worried at all about paying his half of the rent and the electric, because i'm sure we can do it somehow. It might get hard sometimes, but it'll be better than living with him. He is, however, the one paying for internet, so that might end soon... Oh well, it'd be worth it.
On the food side of things, my diet has consisted of sweets, sweets, sweets... Horrible. That's going to stop after this weekend, and i'm going to go back to no junk food and yoga daily. Maybe if i feel up to it, i'll throw a tougher workout in there somewhere, because the yoga is really just getting too easy for me. Perhaps a more difficult, longer yoga routine so i don't make my knees commit suicide... but if i feel up to it i'll do a legit difficult workout that's not yoga at some point. Maybe. Haha. I'm so very good at making decisions, aren't i?
Random tidbit here: I got this comment on my last post, and i want to share it with you all:
"hey! i need your help my ex discovered my blog so i had to delete it and start fresh. ill tell everyone who i use to be once i get some followers back! lol  www.fitpixie13.blogspot.com"
Jump over there and giver her some lovings.
Love to you all! I wish you the best day possible today, because it's pretty friggin' awesome for me too! hehe.

Edit: Never-fucking-mind. He came back at 9 this morning. Fuck my life.

Not Sure Anymore

All i've been wanting to do for the past week is eat, and eat, and eat. And i have been. Now in a normal person's eyes, my overeating would be considered normal eating, as i guarantee i haven't gone over 2000 Calories in a day, but that's entirely too many Calories in a day for me! What the fuck am i doing?! I tell myself i'm fine with it. I'm not gaining weight, so i should be fine with it, right? ...But i'm not fine with it! I don't even know what to do. I'm always hungry, and i don't know why. This needs to stop.

There is no Black and White; it's all Grey

"But i don't want to be a skeleton!" i shouted as the argument elevated.
Ana remained so calm, and that pissed me off more than if she had screamed back at me. "Why would you not want to be beautiful? You've always worked so hard for beauty, and now you don't want it. What's up with that?"
"It's not beauty to be nothing but skin and bones!"
"You always agreed with me before that it was."
"Fuck off!"
She shook her head and waved her finger in the obnoxious admonishing way that she always did, as if she owned me and could always tell me what to do. "You don't want me to do that. You'd be so sad and lonely and fat without me."
She was right. I was terrified to be without her. I wanted her control over me because i didn't trust myself to have any control at all. But i couldn't let her know that....as if she didn't know already. What a fool i was! "Please just leave me alone to think on it for a minute, ok?" It was the best answer i could come up with.
She smiled sweetly, making me even angrier. "Ok," she said, her voice dripping with sugar-coated honey, as she snatched the single piece of fudge i had been about to eat from me and bolted out the door with it.
I sat there alone, sulking and pondering over what to do.
It wasn't as if i had been eating badly. I hadn't binged in forever, and i wasn't eating very much junk food at all. It wasn't as if i had been eating exactly well (on Ana's terms anyway) either. I had been eating three small meals a day and sometimes a snack thrown in there somewhere. I had eaten a couple sweets here and there, but not to an excessive amount, but even a bite was an excessive amount according to Ana. I'd just been eating whatever i felt like whenever i was hungry, which was so much like eating "normally" that it scared the shit out of me, and i called Ana back in for help. The thing was, i didn't even know if i wanted her help, but i didn't know if i wanted to be without her help either. I took her help anyway, and for a week, we got along just fine. She only asked that i eat absolutely no sweets or chips and do a simple 20 minute yoga routine daily. I listened to her, and found myself losing weight that i didn't even care if i lost. (My main goal was just to maintain.) Then one day i looked in the mirror as i was changing and thought i looked sickly, disgustingly skinny. I got a sick thrill out of it, but at the same time, i decided i should probably gain a little bit of weight back, so i ignored Ana and began eating anything at all that i wanted. Then i noticed the tiny bit of weight coming back, and i hated it. I wanted rid of it, but simultaneously i wanted to keep it.
And that's where i was. No clue what i wanted or if i even wanted anything. Ana was angry with me, and i was upset with her. We loved each other still, but perhaps we shouldn't, like the married couple that does nothing but fight and fuck. I didn't know... I just didn't know...
So i buried my nose in Edgar Allen Poe, and tired to forget the world.

I'm Alright.... I Think

I've hit a depression... for no apparent reason. I really have no idea what is wrong with me. There are several things bothering me, but none of them should be big enough to throw me into this horrid mood. I never feel like doing anything. I never even feel like blogging--and that is strange for me! I'm constantly exhausted and irritable. If you don't mind the rant, i think i'll put down all the things that are bothering me and see if i can't figure out what my problem is.
First off, i can NOT live with roommate anymore. He's so fucking pathetic and lazy. All he ever does is come out of his room, mess something up, and go back to his room when he's not at work. Literally, 30 minutes after i clean ANYTHING he comes out of his room and messes it all up. I've gone on cleaning strike because i can't take that. It takes me an hour to clean something and it takes him 20 seconds to destroy that clean and be too lazy to do anything about it. I cleaned up a horrific coffee grounds mess this morning just so my daughter wasn't eating coffee grounds off the floor. What the fuck, dude? You live with a mobile baby who eats everything. The least you can do is try to clean up after yourself to protect her! And the worst part is if i say anything to him, he just denies that it was him. Hello, idiot, i KNOW it was you! Jesse cleans up after himself, and so do i, and i'm pretty sure Fate didn't make that mess. Ugh!
Second, like i said before, i'm going on a cleaning strike because i can't keep anything clean, so the apartment looks like shit. I'm feeling like a dirtball because my home is dirty, but i also feel like i can't do anything about it. I hate feeling helpless, which is exactly what this is doing to me.
Third, my parents are shoving God at me from 60-some miles away. Yeah, i gotta hand it to them, that's some skill, but it's also incredibly annoying. Here's where i stand on that: i believe in God, but i do not believe in religion. I think religion is all a bunch of hypocrites doing what they think they have to do to get to heaven, and hating every minute of it while trying to draw other people into their misery. (Ok, not all religion, but the religion my parents are all about. I guess it would be called "Baptist".) I'm sure that there are some people who truly believe in their religion, and honestly want to do what their religion calls for, and that's fine, but the majority of religious people i have met are hypocritical and judgmental, and i don't appreciate it at all. I don't like being looked at like i'm a terrible mother just because i have a couple tattoos and piercings. Stop judging a book by its cover, or at least be fair and judge your own damn book by its cover too. My parents called a pastor from a nearby church and he came and visited us (while the apartment needed cleaned, i might add, so i was rather embarrassed as his religious judgmental eyes looked all around) and invited us to his church, and offered us his fucking pity money since we're poor. Yeah, no thanks on both of those things, dude.  I feel judged and pressured to be someone i'm not because of this.
Fourth, since i am in this depressive state, i've been beating myself up about not being as good a mother as i know i could be. I feel like doing nothing, so i don't pay enough attention to my daughter. Granted, i do pay more attention to her than most parents my age do to their own kids, but i still just don't feel that it's good enough. I want to fix it, but i'm feeling so blah that i really don't even know how. Once again, i feel helpless.
Fifth, money money money. I hate it, but i need it to live. It's being extremely elusive right now. Jesse JUST got a job, which he starts on monday, so at least i won't be the only one bringing in money. Hopefully that will clear that issue up for me. I just feel so completely broke, and i hate feeling like i'm poor because i then feel like i should look like "trailer park trash". I'd rather die than look poor and dirty, but i feel like i should look that way because i feel poor.... if that made any sense.
Sixth, maybe i can blame it on being sick, but i've felt so exhausted and zombie-like the past week. It kind of feels like i'm on the outside of my body watching myself go about my daily life. And no, i'm not on any sort of drugs... but it kinda feels like i should be, just so i could explain why i feel this way. I don't understand it, and it's kinda freaking me out.
Seventh, chronic pain. It's been part of my life for quite some time now with no real explanation...well maybe if i had the money to get to a doctor there would be an explanation... The pain is depressing, and the depression is painful. Kind of an endless cycle there, and i hate it.
And eighth, Ana. Enough said there. I'm sure you all can understand how she affects everything without an explanation.
I don't think there's anything else that could possibly be contributing to my depression. I really don't even see why these silly little things would affect my depression, but i guess they are. If you have read to the end of this ridiculously long rant, i give you giant hugs, and hope you'll leave me a comment, even if it is just to tell me to shut up and stop complaining. :) Love to you all, and thanks for listening to my whining and crying. Here, i'll leave you a link to a song that i just found on YouTube that makes me feel like i'm not alone in my outlook on religious people:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzRqCM2QoiM

Confusion

119.6
I stepped off the scale and waited for it to go blank, then stepped onto it again.
119.6
I couldn't believe it. Last time i'd weighed myself i'd been 123 lbs. Once more, i stepped off, waited for it to go blank, and stepped back on.
119.6
"How is that possible?" i muttered to myself. "I haven't even been trying."
"What are you complaining about then?" Ana asked. "You're losing without really trying or concentrating..." here a bitterness crept into her voice.. "or even listening to me."
I stepped off the scale and turned around to face her. "Well what are you complaining about? What you want to happen is happening, even though your upset that i'm not following all of your ridiculous plans."
She rolled her eyes and said nothing.
"I looked in the mirror last night as i was changing my shirt and thought that i looked gross, not because of fat, but because of the lack thereof. I am nothing but skin and bones. It's not attractive, not nearly so attractive as you would have me to believe anyway."
"Oh stop it," she laughed. "You're excited by the fact that you're so small and you know it. Stop denying it."
Here i frowned. She was partly right, but also, she was partly wrong. I wasn't really completely sure how i felt about it. "I want to stop losing," i murmured, half hoping she didn't hear me.
"What?!" her tone was beyond patronizing. "You stupid thing you. Why would you ever complain about losing with minimal effort?"
I shrugged. "I'm ok with staying the way i am right now. I don't want to lose or gain anything. I just want to stay put."
"Hmph!" she snorted. "You're a fucking idiot," she said so softly that it cut deeper than if she'd screamed it at me. Then she floated out the door.
I looked back at the scale and cautiously stepped onto it.
119.6
All i could do was stare at the number. I didn't know how to feel about it, or what i wanted to do about it. Confusion was all i felt.

So now everyone in my home is sick, except roommate who only comes out of his room long enough to eat, make a mess of my clean bathroom, play the same damn video game for hours on end, or leave for work. Poor little Fate is miserable, which makes everyone else super-miserable. I wish i could take that sickness for her. The apartment needs cleaned quite terribly, and no one has the energy to do it.  I've got to be at work from 6 pm until 2 am.
AND on top of all that, my parents are insisting on coming over to my apartment tomorrow to give Fate her late birthday gifts. Why they couldn't just come over on her actual birthday, i'll never know. Honestly, i don't even really want them to come at all. I let them in Fate's life in very small amounts. They only "loved" me until they found my blog and discovered i wasn't the wonderful little churchy do-good daughter they thought me to be. Maybe that's partially my fault for not being fully truthful with them about my doings, but i really couldn't have been truthful with them because they still would have hated me for it. I tried to get help from them with my mental issues before they got bad, and they didn't do a single thing, so i just hid it all from them. They also think i'm a horrible person for having sex before marriage, for smoking cigarettes, and drinking alcohol. Let's just say they've said some horribly hurtful things to me before, and leave it at that. I just really don't want them doing the same to my daughter. Sure, they think she's fantastic now...but what happens when she does something they don't like? Will they even love her then?
All i can think about when i see my mother's face is her telling me that it was my fault that i was molested since i'd had sex with one person without being married before the molestation happened. That hurt. It hurt me more than you can imagine since i blamed myself a bit for it anyway. It's perfectly fine that that man molested me, especially since he's "changed his ways" and become a pastor, but it's not alright that i'd had sex with one person without being married to him even though i'd dated him for 2 whole years?! Yepp that's a true mother's love right there. I don't think i can ever forgive the person who did that to me, and i know i can never forgive my mother for being alright with him doing it to me. It will eat away at my brain until i am buried, and then it will eat away at my soul.
Oh dear, there i go with glum posts again. I'm sorry, lovelies. I hope you're all doing better than i am.

sick...

So i've come down with some sort of cold, and i'm absolutely miserable. I can't breathe sitting still, let alone doing yoga, so that's out until i've recovered. Trying to keep up on the housework is exhausting, and i feel like my head is in a bubble because i'm not  fully comprehensive of anything...so i hope this post even makes sense. I'm hoping that i don't end up giving this cold to Fate, but i'm really not quite sure how to make sure of that other than a ton of handwashing. Any ideas? On the positive side, it's taken my appetite away almost completely, so no worries of eating junk food.
You'd think with me being sick, Jesse would pick up some slack and do some of the housework to help me out. No such luck. I had to beg him to even do the last couple dishes that i couldn't find the energy to pick up last night. Then he came into the bedroom banging around loud enough to wake both Fate and myself up and got pissy when i told him to put her back to sleep. I ended up sleeping on the couch, partially because i was mad at him, and partially because it's the only place i could comfortably sleep propped up enough to breathe. He also said something along the lines of "i don't even think you're sick" last night. Ugh! He's lucky i love him so much, because honestly, i think i do better when it's just Fate and me.
Sorry for the complaint post. :( I guess that all i do when i'm sick is whine and cry about it, seeing as i'm out of things to say now that i'm done complaining. Ugh. i'm pathetic sometimes.