Fuckin' fat!

The last few days, I've been frequenting the mall quite a bit while being out with the family while my parents attended their gemstone convention. The day before yesterday, I went to Ross (awesome discount store) and got two plaid shirt dresses (you know, the ones that are like super way in fashion at the moment). For example:


I spent about $30 and I felt so excited to be buying myself something new, especially since my sisters say I don't dress up enough and always look like a "homeless man." I think it's because I'm ashamed of how I look, I can't explain nor can I figure out why I couldn't control what I put into my sorry mouth.

I know this time last year I made a pact with myself to lose weight and drop so many pounds by November or which ever weightloss plan I had originally set. I was so confident and excited that moving out for college and losing weight would be the greatest and surest thing to happen. Wrong. Nothing happened. I didn't start actually consistently exercising at the gym on the treadmill until the last 2 months or so. Even then, the last 2 weeks of the second month, I fell off track. I did myself a favor and I actually did gain the so-called "freshman 15." I am now at my fucking heaviest. Whopping, disgusting, unfortunate, no one to blame but myself... 210lbs. What the fuck? The year went by so quickly and I... it's all harder than it seems and time flies by faster than assumed. I had to juggle sharing a living space with someone else, the all-you-can-eat buffet that was included in the "meal plan" at the dorms, the stress of managing college expenses, working, and 5 hour sleeps. I even coerced Nick to buddy-up with me and make a separate weight loss blog in order to keep track with our so-called success.

I have now been home for 1 month and 5 days. I have been so frustrated with other shit that when I finally remembered my weight dilemma, I sighed in surrender. For the past week, I've been saying... I just don't care anymore.

ANYWAYS-back to the new plaid shirts. I wore one for the first time today and I looked in the mirror. I doubted what I saw. Since I didn't care anymore, I didn't stare in the mirror long like I used to do, said "fuck it" and left to drop mom and dad off at the gemstone convention. While at the mall and waiting for the siblings to play at the arcade, I caught myself in the reflection of the mall's mirrors. "Gross, who is that whale? Why are they wearing an unflattering plaid sheet?!" And there it was, the billionth epiphany, "that who is you." I don't deserve these new shirts, I should go back to my pajama pants, sweatshirt, and bathroom flip flops. I have already decided that I was going to return just one of the shirts. Take that $15 and contribute it to another try at something else for a healthier me. Yes, I know, "here we go again." Even I'm thinking it. But I just... I need to keep trying. Better to keep trying than to do nothing, right? I hope so.

I have even tried the 6 small meals throughout the day. That didn't even work for me because I found myself to be having 6 medium to large meals. Like I fucking ate more than I did with just 3 large meals.

What's the next "here we go again"? Nutrition shakes. 1 for breakfast and dinner (since I'm noticing lately that when I go to bed, I feel like throwing up from fullness). Lunch time, I guess, will be my meal of the day. The vitamin shakes are supposed to be 200 calories per serving.

I'm not sure how this will go, but we'll see. I'm not going to over plan this one like I did all those other times. Considering the fact that my success rate at caring for myself has been failures.

Just another day

Usual stressful week at the house. Started summer classes. Math is... well, I can't tell yet. Lusi flew today to Russia for the summer (or yesterday?). I hope she has fun and there isn't too much drama. I saw Iember" yesterday... weird in itself lol. Called Jenna, hopefully dad will "let" me go to the movies with her next weekend.

I've been thinking a lot on whether or not I'm... satisfied with myself... life, et cetera. I feel alive, while at the same time I don't. Everyday and all the things that I do, I feel like I'm just "going through the motion." Mere survival. I go to school... not because I want to, but because I have to. I eventually need a great career, to save lives? Ideally. To live and make ends meet? Of course. Everything from doing what my parents/religion expects of me to going to bed because it's late, not because I'm tired; I am robotic. I'm inanimate. I used to think I knew what I wanted to do in order to undo my frozen heart. But even I don't trust or believe nor see sense in any of it. I stare blankly at my surroundings. Is this me? Is this where I live? Or is this where I just, ...habituate? I think my faith is strong in religion, but my faith in myself is weak. I realized that I even demonstrate this unconsciously: when I speak to people, my choice of words formulate confusion; when I do something, I'm not sure where to start or what to do next; I'm not confident under my own skin.

Everyday feels like a dream and I question all the time, is this dullness... lack of infatuation with finding absoluteness, ...reality?

iWANT.

BoredUM tips!

Just thought I would try giving myself tips. Not too shitty looking lol.

A little piece of me on such a Sunday

One of those days where I have nothing to distract myself from and end up letting my mind wander off into things I have no desire to have in thought.

Why am I the way I am? Quiet. Reserved. My personality can be very much referred to as a "loner," but I don't feel like one. Yet the reference instills a feeling of awkwardness around people. It's not that I don't want to be social, I just feel... tired all the time? Like there are so many issues and things that have happened and that are happening that just makes me, simply, tired. And I crave that time for myself. Time to regroup myself and who I love being. But what seems like an eternity of waiting, I never get that chance of tranquility through silence and detachment. I am always left, I guess... interested? I feel my true self is kind, giving, considerate, energetic, entertaining, and child-like. And maybe sarcastic, too. For the past six years, however, I only have small moments of me. And after those episodes, I go back to the serious, stressed, and anxious me. And my face and body language always expresses that, those things of exhaustion.

No one, unless you've known me for at least five years, knows why. But since I feel like venting, I'll tell the same old thing as I always do. Only a select few people know this, but over the past year I've been accepting what happened at the ages of 5, 7, and 9. I openly and I don't regret telling people that I was abused by men. It happened and I know it has affected me up until now, but it's a part of me and well, it's gone. It's the past and I need to seal up those holes. However, the long-term abuse wasn't actually physical, but rather, mental. My dad contributed to my dilemma through pressure and shelter. Sure when I was 6 years old, I said I wanted to be a doctor, but I don't I don't think that gives a parent to pressure you to be absolutely fucking perfect. Harvard was supposed to be the only college. The choices were Harvard, or get married. Then there was not having friends, no one could come over and vice versa (which still exists as a rule at age 19). I probably get to see one friend every few weeks at a time and God knows it can't be for more than 3 hours. Another exhausting thing is having to cater to him 24/7. A proper female has to serve his every need. A man's need. Meaning back and neck messages every night, making extraordinary feasts for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I remember when I was younger, we did his laundry and even went as far as pouring his juice into his glass.

Now that I'm in college, failed at getting Harvard ($$ issues) and I'm in a situation where I had to go away to school that's 10 hours away from home (by car); I learned that these childhood things has made me exhausted of life. I have sampled some things that typical college students do, but I know that's not me. My hugest comfort comes in the form of sleep, and relaxing and doing nothing while sipping tea to quietness. This ideal situation feels like recharge for my battery. No crap to deal with from people, a break from real life. Some may think that my ideal living space of solitude is depressing, but to me, it's a break. I wish so hard that I can have that. I'm naturally an outgoing person, but I take school seriously and I still and always will have my demanding lifestyle, and all I ask for is just a little me time. Which is the main reason why I went away for college.

Hopefully I'll be able to achieve this recharge through an apartment by myself next semester.