Ranting Time.

Hey, guess what? In case you're not up to date on the life of Jamie, my boyfriend IS FUCKING FANTASTIC. Seriously, he's probably the best man/human being I've ever had the immense pleasure of meeting. Not to mention I am constantly amazed that he actually likes me back. :] He's sweet and adorable and perfect and funny and responsible(most days) and wonderful and nice and sexy and brilliant and lovely and fucking fantastic in every way shape and form.
On a more negative note however,
all day today food has been thrown in my face, not literally. Maybe I'm just paying more attention to it because of the topic of therapy on Friday, but all day it seems like the topic of discussion has been weight and food and everyone throwing it in my face that they can be happy and healthy while I'm constantly scrutinizing every little thing I consume. The sad thing? I can't stop. I really wish I hadn't told anyone about these issues, that they could go on happily ignorant of my inability to focus on anything but the things I eat or don't and whether I even eat at all. What's a day or two here and there of no food? It's not such a big deal, and it's not nearly so bad as sophomore or senior year. That's exactly what I tell myself. I couldn't eat for three days; lost five pounds. Do you know how fucking fantastic that felt?
It's the only thing I can cling to though, not to mention it's the only thing that has improved my life and continues to do so, Mark being the only exception. I'm constantly trying to see what he sees in me. I hate my body, it's disgusting and not nearly good enough, especially next to his, but he continues to tell me that he loves everything about it, even my stomach, the part I HATE most.
I just want to be normal and healthy and to feel beautiful and attractive. But more than that I want to be thin. You can't have everything though and I feel as though I'm quickly approaching a day where I'll have to choose.
And I honestly can't right now.
It's very rare that someone tells me something about myself that I haven't already acknowledged, but on Friday at therapy we talked about my struggle with eating disorders through sophomore and senior year, the latter certainly being more successful, but he said that it seems whenever I get depressed or things get chaotic I turn to 'what can I do to my body to distract myself from this?' Cutting being a reaction to depression and eating disorders being a reaction to chaos or stress in my life. I knew the cutting was directly linked to depression but I never realized the eating disorders were linked to the organization of my life. But god damn he was right. Mind=Blown.
I'll get better, or appear to.
I'll be better, or try my hardest.
If it kills me.
P.S.- Do you realize I've lost a THIRD of my body weight since the beginning of senior year? Yeah. That's what I said.

Now I'm gonna take some adderall and own this drawing project.