Dear BB,

I fucking hate you.

I hate you for making me love you. I hate you for stringing me along for two years with your lies.

I hate that I trusted you again and again after you'd lie to me time after time. I hate that you're making me feel this way.

I DON'T WANT TO FEEL THIS WAY.

You were supposed to be my one and only. You were supposed to love me forever and unconditionally. You were supposed to look after me and make me happy.

In the beginning everything was so magical. I fit in your arms like no other; your kiss was addicting.

You told me I was special. You told me you knew I was put on this earth for you. You gave me confidence and happiness. I was the happiest little girl, in love with her BB.

I don't want to go through all the hurt you've put me through over the past 24 months. They're already written in type, in ink, and scarred into my skin. No, I don't want to go over the mistakes you've made with us.

Can they be called mistakes if you were consciously choosing to make them?

Point blank, you never cared about me. You never loved me, never thought I was irreplaceable. I was just someone you could use to get what you wanted. That's all. Someone you can emotionally beat up when you were angry, someone you could manipulate to act how you wanted.

You disrespected me so fucking much.

You'd say how much you loved me and how you could never be with anyone else while you were actively trying to fucking fuck other girls!

You make me feel worthless, and I guess I accepted this type of treatment because I am fucking worthless.

But know what? I may be worthless but I don't need to be hurt and disrespected this fucking often. I can't stand you walking all over me.

I wish I had died in the fucking bathtub. Because I know I don't want to be without you BB.

You're the worst person in this entire world but I've seen when you were the best. Not many people get to see that BB. The best BB.

I don't want to be without you because I love you. Because you give me meaning and purpose in this terrible life. At least I had someone to hold and to love and to wipe away my tears and rip through my insecurities.

I don't want to go back to my apartment in Kelowna. You tainted it by fucking The Cunt there. That was the first time my apartment had experienced sex, and it was with you and her.

I don't want to cry all my makeup off every night onto my pillows again. I don't want to wake up without you. I don't want to do anything without you.

I don't want to be an alcoholic again. Drinking to feel numb, to pass out so I don't have to experience the day, the night. I don't want to self-harm on my closet floor again at 2 in the morning hoping that I can cut deep enough. I don't want anyone else to even try to come into my life.

Why did you do this to me? What did I do so wrong to be treated like this? I fucking love you and you don't care!

You think you care, you think you love. But you don't.

I can't remember who told me this but they said you weren't capable of love. And I think they were right.

Don't think that I'm leaving because I want to. Don't think that I'm going to have an awesome life without you.

I honestly give myself about a month before I succeed in killing myself. Because there is no fucking point in being here without you. There was no point before you, why would there be a point after you?

I don't want some "nice guy". I don't want a proper guy. You are the only one who can handle my crazy head. I am so possessive and dependent and emotional, who would put up with that?

We lasted this long because we can handle each other, because we get where the other is coming from, because we've both been through shit. Not everyone will understand people like you and I, not everyone can tolerate being with people like us.

You are truly the only guy I've been attracted to. You're the only guy who makes me feel safe no matter where we go. You're tough, and sexy, and goofy, and adorable, and you make me so fucking happy.

WHY DID YOU HAVE TO RUIN US!?!?

Lying from start to finish.

I don't want to write anymore.

I fucking love you BB. But you've hurt me so much, and for too long. I love you and only you but you're making me leave you.

There's no one who can even compare to you. We were supposed to be for-eva-eva. We were supposed to get married. You were supposed to love me when I was no longer young and beautiful.

I love you the first time
I love you the last time
Yo soy la princesa, comprende mis white lines
'Cause I'm your jazz singer
And you're my cult leader

I love you forever
I love you forever.

127.8 this morning.

I'm super dreading starting this goddamn job on Wednesday.

I've never dreaded work this much before. Like, normally I'm nervous and excited but scared but excited.

But right now, it's 100% dread. I don't think I'm ready for this kind of a job right now...

I'm stressing about all the days I'll need off coming up for BB's multiple court dates (I think he has 4 this month?) and for going down to BC to celebrate my brother's one-year of being sober. He's so excited for me to go.

The last two days I've been supremely depressed because of the impending doom that is work; because I found out BB still talks to this girl that he tried to cheat on me with last year about this time (I've met her boyfriend before); because I want to leave but don't want to leave and have no idea what I should do or how I should go about it; because I don't know who the fuck I am anymore apparently.

I don't think I ever really knew who I was but I'm so lifeless and afraid of so many things that I feel as if I'm a living shell.

I have no thoughts, I can't remember anything, I have no interests, no inspiration...

I was thinking about this last night because all I've wanted to do for the last few days is sketch something, or take pictures, or write, or do anything creative. But nothing ever comes to mind and the general thought exhausts me.

I was thinking about how I only ever want to be someone else, someone else, so who the fuck am I?

I have no idea. There are all these personalities I like to dip my feet into but none that ever fit. This might actually be because of my depression and anxiety taking over my life. I just thought of that. It makes a lot of sense...

Last night I was thinking too about how I really need to talk to somebody.

I need to talk about my suicide attempt because it scares me. Every time I do something wrong I feel like absolute shit and wonder why the fuck didn't it work? What the fuck is wrong with me, I can't even fucking kill myself right. It makes me want to try again, or self-harm.

I really want to talk about the moment I had in the tub too. The moment where I lost my sanity and started talking in a weird voice and laughing to myself about I don't know what. That scares me a lot actually. What if it happens again? When I decided to kill myself I know now that it was extremely irrational but in the moment it was like, "Yup! This is what needs to be done." So I mean... it's just scary. My head.

I want to fix my anxiety and depression. Because right now I'm afraid to do literally anything by myself. Yes, there are a few moments where I can like, walk to the car myself or find something in the grocery by myself. But in general, no. It's too scary. My depression is so bad right now that it seriously feels like my head is in a never-lifting fog. Like I said, I can't remember shit.

I'd like to talk to someone about my relationship, because I know it's not right... I don't know, I just think I need to get a lot off my chest.

Sometimes talking about this kind of stuff, even to really close, unbiased friends, feels like I'm being dramatic. And I feel selfish and petty and stupid. So I think a professional is who I'd like to talk to.

Sidenote: BB did say that if I don't want to work at the job I'll be working at then I don't need to take it. But I know I'll feel guilty like I already do, and I know we need the money, and I know he'll end up using it in a fight.

He uses all my insecurities when we fight. He calls me fatso, crazy, and a spoiled princess "because mommy and daddy take care of me". He tells me I'm disgusting and embarrassing because of my scars, that he deserves better. When I walk away because I've heard enough he usually shouts something like, "Oh, you going to go cut yourself some more?"

These are during fights and I know he's saying these things because he knows it gets to me, but it hurts and again, makes me wonder why the fuck I couldn't kill myself.

- Mint.

My head hurts like a mother fucker.

Hellooo~!


I just updated my stats ;)

I haven't done that in YEARS.

Today, yesterday, and the day before my head has been pounding. I think it might be a slight concussion from when BB pinned me on the ground during our last fight on Wednesday. I think this because my head hasn't hurt like this since September when he did give me a concussion.

My body is pretty sore in general though. Not all from him though lol don't worry; except for beside my right eye it hurts to touch because he slammed my head a little when he choked me to the ground.

Wow, that sounds intense but I swear it wasn't. I'd have bruises if it was intense and I've got nothing so yeah, don't worry.

The real reason my body is aching is because of our bed I'm thinking. I think we need to flip the mattress because springs are digging into me. I've got a bruise on the small of my back, right above my butt crack and a bruise on my left hip from it. ALSO, sleeping is getting difficult too because I'm fucking bony man. Like, I can't sleep on my side with my knees together because they just jab into each other, so I have to spread them out while on my side. But then since they're spread out it kinks my back again and it's annoying. Or my hips dig into the springs because there's no more cushion on them.

Ummmm...

I start my new job at Home Outfitters as their visual merchandiser on Wednesday so I guess that's cool. Makin' money and shit.

Honestly though, I was really hoping Starbucks would call me back haha right now, I really want a job with no responsibility. Something easy going and non-stressful. Being a visual merchandiser, you've got a lot riding on your shoulders. I mean, I'm responsible for the store's appearance. That's kind of important, you know?

AND this job is more like, "interior design merchandising" as opposed to "fashion merchandising". So I'm doing something I've never done before. And know what else? I'll have to make beds... I SUCK AT MAKING BEDS. ALWAYS HAVE, ALWAYS WILL.

Like, I can make a bed. But it takes me forever.

Also, they've never had a visual merchandiser in there before so I'm filling a brand new position. That means people are going to be very interested in wtf I'm doing. Don't you just love people staring at you and judging your work Mint?

NO, NO I DO NOT.

My life is very conflicting. I crave attention but most times, when I get it, I hate it and want to crawl in a dark hole to die.

Whatever, whatever. Experience, money, and exercise. That's all I need in a job and I've got it. Who knows though, maybe Starbucks will hit me up haha

Another thing I should note before I go is that I need to focus on making my goddamn portfolio the next little while so I can get into fashion design school. It's been on my list for two years now, wtf is my problem?

Maybe I'll write another post tomorrow about more of my stresses with BB. Actually, I probably won't because he has tomorrow off. I'm hoping we can go to a park :3

SUNDAY, Sunday I'll update y'all.

Love you, hope everyone is doing alright. ♥

- Mint.

HALLELUJAH!

Hi,


I have a lot to say but I don't want to say it because I'm tired and stressed.

Which is weird because a blog is meant to destress you but whatever, apparently I'm just useless.

I just wanted to showwwwww youuuuuuu thissssssss!!!H!UIGB!EHLGE!IUG!UIUE!

YES THAT'S CORRECT

I

MINT THE FATSO HAVE FINALLY REACHED THE 120S

FINALLY

AFTER YEARS OF TORTURE AND ANGUISH AND DEFEAT

I AM HERE

BY EATING HOT DOGS AND PIZZA AND EVERYTHING 2011 MINT WOULD SCREAM AT.

Don't get me wrong here, it's not like I'm gorging myself with all this shit. It's that I eat one meal a day, and I haven't binged in at least a solid year.

My weight isn't yo-yoing from weeks of fasting followed by binging because I didn't reach my goal. My weight is stable because of me not starving.

Some days I eat a bit more, some days I eat a bit less.

Some days I eat hot dogs with the buns, other days I just eat a salad, other days still I skip eating because I'm too busy drinking.

It's amazing. I've never looked at myself this much before. Not because I'm beautiful now (oh god no, I'm the furthest thing from that) but because I don't believe I'm this tiny.

I have a natural pear shape so I've got the hips and the butt. These are the parts I've always hated the most, and the parts that have hardly ever changed throughout my years of battling my reflection.

BUT NOW? Things are moving. I have underwear that is getting too big for me. Like wtf?

I'm a size 8 in pants now which is the smallest I've been since December 2011. I can even fit into the jeans I've saved from grade 9 before said hips and butt smacked me in the face. They're a size 7 and I haven't been able to get them on/zipped up since grade 9. Since I was 14!! 9 years ago!!!!

Also, I am sooooo close to my thigh gaaaaaaaaaap! Ugh, it's driving me insane. Literally, there's one tiny spot where my thighs touch and it's the lightest kiss they could give. If I wiggle even the slightest while my feet are together, I'm telling you, those thighs are fucking apart.

My top was usually tiny but now it's like, pretty tiny hahaha ALL of my tops are too big. Even the tops I had in the back of my closet for those brief skinny times I've had are too big. It's awesome but because of the insane bagginess paired with my huge bottom half, it makes me look just as big as before and I hateeee it. It's so not fair.

Holy shit, I'm looking at the goals I have written on the side here and I'm almost at GW 2!! I forgot I had a GW 2 hahaha I thought it went 130, 125, 120, 115. But that's cute of me, giving me some pride for properly being in the 120s.

Also, I'm actually 5'9, not 5'8. Technically I'm 5'8 and three quarters but BMI wise and shit, it makes more sense to put 5'9. I should update that probably since I'm not at an embarrassing weight anymore hahaha

I seriously can't believe I'm here. A weight I've been chasing for like 8 years at least. I'm like fucking 4 pounds away from being classified as underweight. Right? 125 was underweight for me? I can't remember...

The key here for me is to not get too obsessed. Sometimes I can feel myself slipped by weighing myself multiple times a day, or trying to eat less and less, but I've just got to distract myself and I'll just keep motoring along!

I will admit though that some foods have been giving me anxiety lately. And sometimes I get binge-like cravings. Or I'll start eating something and then spit it out because I suddenly feel that it's not worth the calorie-intake. So I should be cautious of that too.

Side-note: I can't remember how this came up in conversation but I was explaining to our friend Jordan about how I look at food as a number in a sense. And so I was telling him how it can get obsessive like for making a salad (see 2011's "La Salade"). To get my point across more I just kept prattling off more numbers matching to more foods until I ran out of breath and in the end he thought it was the weirdest thing in the entire world. Which is weird to ME because it seems like the most normal thing in the world. Food translates to numbers. It's not hard, it's easy to remember. It's just a different language I was brought up with (I'm bi-linguini-al, LUUUUUUL).

Anyway, that's about all I have to boast about. It's 2 in the morning right now so I should probably try to go to sleep now. My anxiety has been really bad at night since my suicide attempt, only when I have to go to sleep alone though (which is most days since BB works nights *sad face*).

BUT YEAH, LOVE YOU ALL EVEN THOUGH NO ONE READS THIS ANYMORE

(please come back I thrive on attention)

- Mint.