Wait, don't drown it in the waterhole. Taste, the feeling of a fever soul.

1. Yesterday I ate too much, so I'm fasting today.

2. Yesterday morning my mom told me that when she got home from work, I would show her where I was at with my schooling.

It stressed me out all day. I couldn't focus on anything other than the fact that I'm a failure and I hate myself.

I cut of course.

Felt guilty. Ate. Felt more guilty and ashamed. Wanted to cut more, but didn't.

Felt absolutely alone.

When I told her how behind I am, she was really sweet and nice about it all. She knew how terrible I felt about it. I'm lucky to have her.

3. After that ordeal was over, I had a lovely little anxiety attack and couldn't sleep.

4. When I finally fell asleep I dreamt that I had a super huge thigh gap. If only...


♥,

Mint.

Whispered notes, from the piano in the corner of the room.

1. I easily stayed within my 500 calorie limit today. It's odd how I can eat terribly for days without even thinking about calories, but as soon as I set a limit for myself my brain keeps screaming, "Too much! Too much, you fat ass! Stop eating!!!"

I  don't like a limit of 500. I feel much more comfortable with 300. But I know that as soon as I get into the swing of this, I'll cut it down to 300. I just have to remember that 500 is very little, and I will lose weight if I simply stick to this plan.

2. Last night my mom asked me what I ate for supper. And I couldn't think of anything. There was no evidence of food being used up, no dishes, no garbage, no nothing. How could I have been so stupid?

So I told her nothing. She was like, "Nothing!? What did you eat throughout the day then?"

Again, my brain couldn't think of anything, so I repeated my original answer of nothing. Saying that I was so full from eating badly the day before when she wouldn't stop looking at me funny.

She let it go, she knows not to make a fuss about food with me. I just thought it was funny that this is the first she was aware of me not eating for an entire day, when I've fasted for days around her quite frequently before.

3. Oh yeah, my dad took my brother out for supper tonight.

He drove an hour here and back, just to take my brother out for dinner, when I don't even remember the last time he's said something to me.

cutcutcut

Nina: My mom giving me diet pills is really nothing out of the ordinary haha I've been taking them and detox pills on and off since I was 14. I've lusted for thinness ever since I can remember, and when I was having a hard time with friends when I was 14, I just defaulted to needing to lose weight. It's a distraction from the world around me, and makes me happy when I see results. My mom of course likes me to be happy, so she let traded me the diet pills I asked for, for the smile she needed to see. I buy my own now, of course, but she doesn't know about it. If she did know though, she obviously wouldn't say anything.

Broken Wings: I'm flattered that you're taking part in my little diet plan! I wish you the best of luck! Just please stay safe, okay? ♥ I wish that I could be a good buddy and keep you motivated but I'm really afraid that I'd fail at keeping contact. Lately, I'm just too numb to focus on anything but my own priorities (aren't I selfish?). Stress has me so suffocated, so isolated, that simply writing about my day is a challenge! I mean, how many bloggers out there are so apathetic that they need to number their thoughts per post just to seem semi-organized and put together? I really do wish you well though! You'll be in my thoughts. c:

♥,

Mint.

Another plan to fail.

1. So after a few days of binging on couscous salad and bean salad, I've finally returned to report a day of fasting.

2. I feel stupid saying that I've created yet another foolproof  plan (since lately I haven't been sticking to anything), but here it is:

• Roughly 500 calories per day
• 1 day a week for juice fasting (still staying in the 500 cal limit)
• Breakfast is either 1/2 a banana (50) and 9 almonds (60), 1/2 apple (50) and 1/2 tbsp peanut butter (50), oatmeal (110), or a super thin slice of bread (50) with peanut butter and jam (50).
• A snack of either 1/2 a banana (50) and 9 almonds (60), 1/2 apple (50) and 1/2 tbsp peanut butter (50), or 4 carrots (100) with mustard.
• Lunch is a bowl of soup (100), or an open faced veggie sandwich (100).
• Another snack of either 1/2 a banana (50) and 9 almonds (60), 1/2 apple (50) and 1/2 tbsp peanut butter (50), or 4 carrots (100) with mustard.
• Dinner is a salad (100), soup (100), or steamed veggies (100).

I'm trying to fit in all the cravings (protein, carbs, sugar), and keeping a higher metabolism by eating frequently throughout the day.

I'm going to really try to workout on non-fast days, and make sure to keep up with liquids (coffee in the morning, tea and water in the afternoon, water and mint tea in the evening).

So today was good, hopefully tomorrow will be too.

3. Last night my mom gave me her green coffee bean diet pills because she said she's not consistent enough. I'm happy because I've been wanting to try them out. So in the morning I'm taking my regular diet pill, and then before lunch and dinner, I'll take the green coffee pills. I may or may not take the second dose of my regular diet pill in the afternoon. It depends on how focused I am, and how jittery I want to feel.

4. I finally talked to my brother today around 4 o'clock. I was making tea in the kitchen and he was heating up a frozen dinner. It was nice because it felt like we just got home from school or something. I really do miss being little. Being an adult is so pointless and boring and ugh, I hate it.

Thanks everyone for your support, it made me feel less alone and it was very much appreciated. ♥♥♥

Mint.

1-2-3-4

1. My brother is still in the hospital.

He was planning on leaving this afternoon, but because a psychologist hasn't spoken to him yet, he's not allowed to leave.

LOL

That's so funny to me. Yes big brother, this is what happens when you admit yourself to a hospital saying that you're suicidal! They proceed with caution!

2. Last night I ate a piece of bread because I was feeling really dizzy while just sitting down. Today, I got in shit for it because it was the LAST piece and I didn't say that we needed more, and I didn't make more when I should've, and there apparently was WAY more than one piece left and I ate all of them.

Blah, blah, blah.

So my mom doesn't notice when I don't eat, but when I do eat, it's a big deal apparently. I'm greedy, greedy, greedy, and selfish, selfish, selfish.

I ate today too. A bunch of couscous salad. Fuck. I ate too much obviously, and now I'm going to balloon. I know it. I feel it. It's happening RIGHT NOW. As I type, I'm swelling, and growing, bigger and bigger. I am now a lead balloon.

3. Today also, my mom said that she found my blog.

I fucking freaked. "What blog?"

Turns out she was referring to a website I made a few years ago, when I was trying to sell things to make money to go to Japan. Big sigh of relief.

4. I noticed today that I have a really distorted view on my... efforts I guess you could say and I realized that my perfectionist qualities have become really strong.

Usually I call myself an imperfect perfectionist. Because I try really really hard to make things perfect but then give up after awhile and say, "good enough". But lately, that's not an option.

With my new job as a cake decorator (did I mention my job change? I can't remember), it's really prominent because the top and sides have to be perfectly smooth, the corners perfectly square, the piping perfectly even. And I'm meeting my expectations. Each cake, perfect. It's a beautiful thing.

Same with my school lately too. I need to get each question right, I need to.

But, are those efforts good enough? No. I'm too slow, I need to go faster, I need to work harder. I need to stop sleeping in and being a minute late. I need to be better, and better, I crave it. Until I get better, I feel worthless at everything I do. I'm a failure.

Apparently not though. Because I guess I'm working so fast, and so well with my cakes, they've cut my training in half. And the lady training me is giving me all these websites with tutorials so I can learn advanced piping skills because apparently I am "incredibly talented".

I spoke French for like the first time ever today, and apparently I'm really, really good.

Yet my mind won't accept any of this. Nothing's good enough, everything can be better. All scores round to zero.

I don't know, it's just weird when I realize things about my self.

Sometimes I even avoid certain tasks because I know that I set my standards too high, and I'll never finish, because I just won't be good enough. Sweeping is a good example of this. When I worked in the deli I'd allow another worker to do the sweeping (crapily), just so that I'd have time to do everything else. Because what if I missed a speck? Was that a speck there? I'm sure it was. Sweep, sweep, sweepsweepsweep.

It's really annoying actually. Having OCD would be a bitch.

5. Sorry these posts have been so long and rambley and unorganized. Numbering each topic is my way of trying to declutter. So far, I like it.

♥,

Mint.

Don't judge me.

Okay, so today my brother admitted himself to the hospital.

T__T

He was supposed to go to the doctor to ask for a note saying that he was allowed to miss work for counseling.

Instead, the doctor was asking him the routine questions: Are you feeling stressed? Yes. Are you feeling depressed? Yes. Do you feel suicidal?

And because my brother is more dramatic than a 13-year-old girl who has just been dumped by her first ever boyfriend, he said yes.

So that he can get a pat on the head, a band-aid over his non-existent booboo, and a reason to avoid work.

My mom is furious because she wants him to deal with his shit. You know, face reality, pay his bills, maybe get up off his ass and wash his own goddamn dishes.

My dad is annoyed because, "You know, I'm stressed too. I don't understand why he would pull this shit when I'm this stressed." my dad has no reason to be stressed. The company my brother works for bought the company my dad works for and he just doesn't like change.

And me?

I'm pissed right the fuck off. One does not say that they are suicidal as a way to avoid work. That's disrespectful, that's lazy, that's disgustingly aragent.

I know that my brother isn't suicidal, so please don't think I'm being a bitch.

There has been no change in his behavior since, ever. He's been hanging out with friends (like always), watching tv shows and laughing his ass off, he showers, he eats, he's fine.

I know he doesn't cut or scratch or burn or punch because he walks around in his boxers a lot (unfortunately), and I've never heard him say one negative thing about himself, ever.

He does not feel like a burden in our household (obviously since he has mess everywhere, never cleans up, never says thank you, and is always canceling the recordings on our shows to record his shows) and he feels no guilt.

It pisses me off because he has no idea, how much self-hate it takes to hurt yourself. Or needing to cut yourself to get rid of at least some of the numbness, even if it's just for a little while. He has absolutely no idea what it's like to feel guilty for being alive, guilty for taking up space, breathing.He doesn't know what it's like to need death so badly, that waiting is no longer an option.

So I'm sorry, to anyone who has ever had suicide as an option, on behalf of my pathetic brother. He really should show some more respect in my eyes.

In other news, I almost binged today but when I heard about my brother, I decided that I really don't deserve any food. My heart wants it, my head, does not.

I'm losing about a pound a day from soup fasting, and that makes me happy. But I'm not losing it quick enough, why did I allow myself to get this fat?

Think thin!

♥,

Mint.

P.s yay 30 followers!! c:

Prissy, fat, worthless, greedy, selfish, rude, fat fat fat fat whale.

I'm posting again because this just happened.

I was in the living room, typing up my rant, when my brother walks into the kitchen and tries to make a cup of tea using the keurig.

He's not doing it right, and he's swearing and cursing.

I get up to try to help him.

He continues saying it's not him, it's the machine, because he has the exact same machine at home and it doesn't do this.

I open the machine and say it's because he put the basket in wrong.

He slams it closed and says, "Well how the fuck am I supposed to know that?"

I slammed it open and told him to look at the arrows.

He said, "I don't know how to do that because I just use the fucking cups that were made for the fucking machine."

I said that you use the basket for the cups.

He said that he "doesn't take the damn basket out, because he uses the machine for what it's used for". He continues on asking, why we're so weird and use the attachment to brew different coffee, and why don't we use the cups, that's why any normal person would buy the fucking machine.

And I said, "Because the cups are fucking expensive and we have no money because we've been dealing with YOU fucking lazing around doing nothing and sleeping on our couch for a month!"

He gets all mad and storms off downstairs while shouting, "FINE! I DON'T WANT WANT TO BE BOTHERING YOU GUYS BY SLEEPING ON A COUCH. I'LL GO LOOK FOR HELP SOMEWHERE ELSE!"

He left.

My mom yelled at me for being rude. Said I'll be a terrible psychologist. Said I should stop acting like a perfect princess.

So I put the clean dishes away, put the dirty ones in the dishwasher, washed his dirty pans by hand, made his tea, made my mom tea, cried for about three seconds and am empty again. Numb.

He came back of course. My mom phoned him and apologized on my "bad behavior". They're watching tv together, drinking the tea I made.

I'm going to go cut.

Selfish rant of a selfish girl.

Let me rant here for a bit:


My brother (as some of you may know from reading older posts), has been living with my mom and I since October the 8th because he got fucked up on drugs again, got wasted as hell, head-butted his now ex-fiancé and apparently said he was going to commit suicide all in the same night. His current location is in my tv room because his ex-fiancé got a restraining order against him and is currently living in their trailer. She's planning on moving out very soon.

Now, my brother is 24. Five years older than I, and he has always gotten all the attention, all the sympathy, all the money, all the care, all the second chances, all the everything.

It's always about him.

When we were a family, dinner would consist of my mom yelling at him for not trying in school. Weekends would consist of going to his hockey games and my dad talking about how he's going to, "go far". Later on in his high school career, he decided he wanted to be a rock star. My dad immediately bought him a brand new electric guitar and was really excited because he's going to, "go far". He used his guitar for about two weeks. From the age of 5-13 all I wanted to do was sing and act. And nothing. No help, no interest, nothing.

Sometimes though, my brother can be evil. He has made my mom's eyes pop out with anger, I swear I've seen her spit with rage, chasing him through the kitchen; fists almost pounding through the door my brother and I were behind (he knew it would make her insane). Sometimes when I'd be trying to sleep him and my father would be fist-fighting about something outside my door. That's when my mom and I would leave. That's when my dad left us, and took my brother with him; my father loves my brother. He doesn't love me. I was ten back then.

My brother has forged my mother's signature on the cheques he stole from her, leaving her and I unable to pay the bills. He was seventeen. And yet my mom, and my dad have always given him money, 20 dollars here, 50 dollars there, you know. I've never received a penny from my father, never felt deserving enough to ask money from my mother. If I did/do receive money from either, it's expected to be paid back, and of course, I pay it back. When my brother is expected to pay it back, he, of course, doesn't.

My brother also likes to party. He likes having fun, and not being bored. When he's bored he drinks, if he's still bored, he does drugs. He has no mental illness, he's just bored with a lot of money and time.

My mom knows this, but because she loves him, she wants to help my poor, poor brother. When he first moved in she talked to him about maybe seeing a psychologist, he agreed, but when my mom did the research and got an appointment for him, he was too busy hanging out with friends.

But tomorrow, my brother's going to a counselor because he found out that he can miss a whole day of work but still get paid because, union.

My dad phones the house quite often to "make sure he's doing okay", when my brother gets off the phone (if he's actually at home and not with friends) he bitches about how annoying it is to have to talk to him.

My mom, has been giving my brother lots of money because instaloans keeps taking his money from his bank account because they're fed up. My brother spends his money on gas and booze when he goes to the bar with his friends. So, she gives him more money. More and more and more.

And then there's me. Running around cleaning the floors because there's huge paw prints and wads of fur everywhere from my brother's GIANT dog, cleaning the kitchen multiple times a day because apparently my brother can't clean up after himself, and stealing food from the deli and making bread everyday all so that my mom can be less stressed. Today she told me that I should try doing something around the house for a change.

Excuse me? I don't understand why no one notices me. I really don't.

I'm taking five courses per semester by correspondents; working a part time job to save for food, housing, schooling, and my car; and now since the 8th, I've been the housewife of this household too.

Why does no one realize that I'm busting at the seams? Why does no one realize that the only thing I've been taking from the fridge is soup? Why does no one realize that my fake smile has disappeared?

I just don't get it. Why continually catch someone who has used you, spat on you, stolen from you, crushed you, destroyed you, for 25 years? Why?

Whenever I go out in public lately, I can't look anyone in the eye, I'm anxious and feel like I'm taking up the whole room, and I'm greedy for taking up the whole room. I constantly want to slice open my stomach and rip everything out. I want to hack at my arm until there's nothing left.

I'm in deep, and no one even cares enough to peak down the hole I've tumbled into.

Earlier today I was sitting lifeless on the stool in the kitchen, waiting for my mom to heat up her meal.

"You've been looking prettier lately." she says, glancing over.
"You always say I look pretty when I'm incredibly depressed. Remember when I was about to move out for uni last year?" I replied without thinking.
She laughs, "Yeah, I remember that! Wait," she looks at me, her mind catching up with the conversation, "you're depressed?"

When am I not depressed? When am I not talking to her, telling her about how I hate people, how I hate life, how life is pointless? Does she block that all out? Does she listen at all?

My poor poor brother wants to ask his counselor about his dreams. Last night he woke up at 2 in the morning, screaming. He hoped that he didn't wake up mom and I.

He didn't, because I wasn't sleeping. I didn't sleep at all last night because I was feeling emptier than ever, because I was imagining slicing my stomach open, hacking my arm off. I was wanting to sleep forever because I didn't want to face today. I didn't want to have to be a person and parade my fat self at work.

He also didn't wake me up because he didn't scream. His room is right below mine, and he didn't scream. Poor, poor brother.