crash&burn.

when i wake up, it’s like you were just here. only a moment ago. you probably felt me stirring and got up, not wanting to give away your game, quietly shutting the door behind you. you went back to where you came from but i wish you would have stayed. the bed beside me isn’t warm - i check. there’s no dent where your body was. but i swear you were here. i almost remember listening to your heart, nuzzling my face in the bend of your neck; in between your chin and your torso. maybe it’s that we talked all day yesterday or that i sent you a goodnight to the moon just before i fell asleep or that i dreamed of you, but really, i swear, you were just here.

I went to sleep planning to skip breakfast [and lunch and dinner], but I also fell asleep listening to Crash and Burn. So I dreamt about her. And when I woke up I was like 'oh fuck, just because she's gone for the weekend doesn't mean i get to do this all over again', so I had blueberries and cream oatmeal. I'm trying not to count calories but I know for a fact the exact number of everything. The numbers just jump out and scare me. Oatmeal is 130. Reduced sugar oatmeal is 120, but I had the regular kind instead. The cup of tea I had with it is 4.


For lunch I had sugar-free popsicles and an apple. One popsicle is 44, but I had two. An apple is 80. It tastes like an onion.
disordedGrandma is here. She's pretty screwed up with food. Granted, not to the extremes I am, but she's very paranoid about bad foods and good foods and what to eat. When we had vegetable pizza she took the vegetables off the top and ate them instead. She goes on and on about how this is empty calories, that is empty calories. I think she thinks everything besides coffee and salsa are empty calories. I've seen her desect her food before, wipe all the toppings off a burger, take away the bun, and eat just the patty and some of the cheese. Usually she doesn't eat much, but sometimes she'll suddenly say "Let's go get ____." in middle of the night and we'll go drive to get it, eat it with me as if it's the last thing she'll ever have. Like that time we ate vanilla ice cream with olive oil and salt on top. Weird things like that. Other family members have food issues on the opposite end. Then there's BallerinaCousin, who I'm pretty sure is anorexic. 90 pounds is definitely not the norm for our family, and it shows on her frame. Maybe I can just blame genetics for being screwed up.

Even when I was little I wasn't normal about food. Mom said I would only eat what I thought was 'good' [which sounds an awful like me and white/safe foods these days, doesn't it?]. My 'good' foods were gummy bears without the dyes, so they were clear, apples, salad, cucumbers, and grape soda. Sometimes I would eating nothing but one thing, like the summer when I was nine and lived primarily off saltines with cheese and grape soda. It's not unusual for little kids to do weird things with food, but sometimes I wonder if I was never meant to be normal. I was born with a label on my forehead stating that THIS KID IS GOING TO BE FUCKED UPPPP.

Also, the fact my last cuts are taking forever to heal is making it really hard to not do it again. They're not the deepest I've ever gone but they're big enough that a week and a half later they still haven't even closed. They're still infected, a gross yellow milky-green. The area around them is swollen and red and hurts to touch. Every step I take stings because of them, so I never forget. I probably should've given myself stitches but now it's too late and they hurt too much to do that. But they keep ripping open more and getting bigger so I might need to. I can't go to a doctor at this point, especially since it's not an emergency. Even if I had gone when they were fresh, they don't get around to patients with self inflincted injuries very quickly. All you're doing in their eyes is taking up space in the room, taking resources from 'real' patients with real problems. They're not even that bad anyways. About five inches long each and half an inch deep.

I'm talking too much but all I can do is think about this.