New ...

Strive to Thrive will be Dead Inside. I want to change the title, and the background, and the font. I'm still stones2bones though, still Emma, still me. Promise. Changing the design has taken some trial and error. Let  me know if anything needs to be changed :)
I'm back at my high weight. Why are they doing this to me? Yesterday I put my  hand on my stomach and before I could get a breath out my mother almost yelled at me not to tell her "I'm fat." But it's true. I am. I see it hanging there. Bloated. Distorted. Disgusting. And I can't run to try and exercise because whenever I do I get the most terrible earache which takes at least half an hour to dissipate once it arrives, and it's so painful I have to stop. The only way I'll ever get anywhere is starving and they won't let me. I won't even be able to do anything this summer while I'm away for five weeks because I have a roommate whom I've known for years and she'll start asking questions if I never eat. I will make sure I don't have any snack food in my dorm room though, and we have "meal cards," which only work at campus locations, so I won't be able to binge. I'll just be really careful about what I buy, and maybe throw some of it away when no one is looking. But then I'll feel bad about wasting my parents money :/ We're on such a tight budget right now, my mom has to start her business again. Why can't they just let me starve? I could save the food money and pay for dance. Not that I'll be dancing much longer.
We went and saw "First Position" last night. It's a documentary about Youth America Grand Prix, a ballet competition. When it ended my mother said "I'm not even a dance mom." I said "I'm not even a dancer." Then she got pissed (pardon my language :/) at me and told me I was looking at it wrong, and I'm going to ABT, and Why do I always talk like that, etc., etc. I just tried to tune her out. She doesn't get it. She doesn't understand I'm not that good. If love is blind then she must love me a lot because I'm not the skinny perfect amazing dancer she seems to think I am.
I'm a failure. A fat, ugly, stupid, ant-social, awkward, uncoordinated, untalented, uninteresting failure.

Special thanks to:

Katie Elizabeth ~ I hope they help, no one deserves our misery. I'm just scared to lose myself. I can't decide if I'd prefer he remember me or not. I was so stupid, and it won't really make a difference either way, the time has passed. Only 12 school days though :D

 

  

Almost summer ...

Made it darker :) If it's still too hard to read I can have another makeover, or change the actual font.

Did the math today, and by math I mean marking the days on my phones calendar with my finger.  14 days of school. That's it. I think I might even keep my 4.o, if I fight and manipulate a little bit. A "perfect" half of a high school career. Whoopee.  I've wanted it to end for so long but, at the same time, I don't want it to end. I don't know if I'm going back to the same school next year or not, this could be it. The last days. Truly. The idea excites and frightens me. I'll never see most of them again. I'm not particularly close to everyone there, but I know their faces now. I know their smiles. I have blips and memories of so many of them. The only thing worse than how well I remember, is how well they seem to forget.

Does anyone have that face they'll spend there life remembering? That person who causes the most memory triggers. The one who makes you catch your breath, even though you know it's all in your head, because I do. 

I didn't even really like him. Then. 8th grade. I barely knew what hormones were due to the dancer's side effect of late maturation, and he was weird. He planned my whole life over the course of 3 months in geometry. He sang, he "danced," he joked. Then he asked me to sit with him and his gang of friends I didn't know, and I was young, and I didn't know better, and I've never let myself forget how dumb I was. I didn't like him, so I said no. I've spent 2 years wishing to know what would've happened if I'd said yes. I've twisted my memories every direction knowing nothing would change and that I need to forgive myself and forget. But somewhere along the way I started liking him instead of the idea. I haven't talked to him since. He was a grade ahead of me and we've never had a class together again. Probably never will. I'll probably never talk to him again. 

But I see him in the halls, or a song he sang plays on the radio, and I remember. All of it. I just don't think he remembers any of it.

Sorry for that random side step. 

My dance teacher told us no one should ever eat any dairy products because they are triggering asthma and allergies in the human populace. He also said we should give ourselves a pat on the back and say "good girl," and be proud of our accomplishments. The problem is that I don't feel I've had any. I know in the eyes of others I might have but, in my eyes, I've done nothing. I feel like a waste of space, time, and energy. Why am I even here? Why do people talk to me? What does everyone see in me? Can't they tell something is wrong with me?

Mother told me I should take the other half of her "happy pills.""They'll make me relax." She also asked me if she seemed to be in a better mood. I can't do that to myself. I can't submit to reinforced chemicals and just give up control like that. Who would I become? Wouldn't I no longer truly be myself?

Special thanks to:

Katie Elizabeth ~ I can't imagine what it must be like on the other side, but I wish you strength. The grass is always greener I suppose :/ I'm glad those costumes are over too!

Emma ~ I'm beginning to think off is normal ... at least they made someone laugh :) I'm sure there were plenty of snickers in the audience too. You could do anything with that mentality!

Thank you both, for the smiles and support <3

Makeover

I decided it was time for a change. If this is too hard to read please let me know. The actual page is for the readers, above all. I'm sure I can find another spot for this rose if need be.
It's been too long.
I say that in everything now. Every time I come on here, it's been to long since my last post. Every time I look in the mirror, it's been too long since I was proud of what I saw. Every time someone laughs, it's been too long since I've done the same. Truly, and wholeheartedly.
It's time for change.
I'm not going to focus on my ED anymore. My parents found out and they've made it impossible. Maybe while I'm away this summer. I still hate myself. I still hate my body. I still have a love/hate relationship with food. But my mom has been freaking out for years in the belief that my brother might be anorexic. They won't allow me to refuse food any longer. I'm too pathetic to go bulimic. Pardon the poor word choice, but I couldn't stomach it.
Now I'm left spinning in depression, stress, and anxiety. I've always been anxious, always strummed my fingers. Pulled my hair. Worried too much about too little.
I am a beautiful chemical imbalance.
I guess my equilibrium just isn't all that stable, no matter how constant the whir in my mind.
My AP test is over, epic failure. My performances are over, thank heavens. I will never wear those dreadful mermaid costumes again. Full body shiny unitard and seashells. Those are five words that should never be combined in one costume.
I'm just going  through the measures. I kind of feel like I'm not really here. Like I'm floating in a limbo.
And then he yells at me. Thanks a lot Hunter. Thank you SO, SO, SO much for sending me crashing back into planet Earth. I thought you were my brother?! I thought we were on the same side! I thought that you were depressed, too. Don't you understand what that does to me? Are you not as broken beneath the surface as I am? Can't you tell I can't take it? I'm not strong. I'm not perfect. I'm not me. I'm not. I thought you knew.
I thought they all knew, but I guess no one really does. The price we pay for secrets.
If you don't stick around now that the numbers are missing, I'll understand. You're all beautiful. Sorry things change.

Special thanks to:

Katie Ehrlich ~I don't sleep well either. I'm riddled with dreams I don't understand or remember, where there used to be a deep peaceful abyss. I do hope you get some good sleep. It's a wonderful restorative. Have an unparalleled day <3

Sleep deprived ...

I'd crash and burn  if there was anything left in me to fuel the fire.


I don't hate you, I just hate the world. It doesn't matter if you care, I just don't want to care. I don't want the world to end, I just want my life to end. I don't have a problem, I just hate myself.

I don't mind if you talk to me when you're in need. But if that's the only time you talk to me don't bother. I'm obviously not worth your time, why should I waste mine on you?

Your ignorance is pitiful, your ignorance is blind. Oh, the things you'll never do with ignorance in mind.

I'm ... I'm ... I don't even know. I'm tired, worn out, stretched thin, over scheduled, stressed, etc. We have rehearsal until 9p.m. every night, or later. I don't get home until after 10. I'm standing there in rehearsal as she yells to do things full out but all I can think of is how no one has the energy because we've all been stranded there so late for weeks. Half of the girls Can't do it full out due to injury. We're dropping like flies. She's asked too much. No one can handle it. On break we all wince as we move. There's a strange aura of giddiness as a result of sleep deprivation. I can't focus very well. None of us are doing well in school. Everyone wants the show to be over so that we can take a simple breath.
Next Friday I'm supposed to be in three important places at the same time. My AP test, state standardized test for chemistry, and spacing rehearsal all take place at the same time. They aren't even in the same county.
To top it off "Murphy" and I are quite well acquainted. (everything that can go wrong will) Thursday I landed on my knee and head in rehearsal. I've had headaches all week accompanied by a beautiful green bruise on my temple, and a scab on my knee that makes it painful to bend. Friday I hit my head on the the car while getting in.Saturday I slipped and fell on the other knee. Monday I ran in to a door while running laps inside for P.E. and received an inch long slice form the metal handle. Yesterday my cheek became stuck to my braces when impaled by a protruding wire. And today I have the pre-performance head cold. Is it any wonder I want to skip these next 2 weeks?
Sorry for the rant, I just needed that out of my system. I still haven't looked at the scale because I can tell from the fit of my clothing any my reflection in all the mirrors that surround me that I am no where near where I want to be. The only thing worse than being overweight for a performance entirely costumed in unitards is listening to my father and anyone else tell me I'm not fat. Just because you are a bucket of lard I am not skinny. You put on a shiny gold skin tight full body suit and tell me how thin you feel! I feel bad enough without the costume. I need to lose 20 pounds in 1 month, and I've been trying to lose it all year. Why will my body not listen to me? Last year it was so simple, so easy. It was a game. Come back from the summer and need to lose weight? No problem. I drop 4 pounds. The numbers are entertaining. Why not lose another 2? And 2 more? I wonder if I could lose 2 more? And then it stopped. Now I can't lose one and I'm fasting! I'm getting no sleep and I'm on my feet all day, I can't avoid food any longer. But why doesn't fasting help? I just want to be thin. I just want to be beautiful. I just want to be happy, loving, accepting. I want to look in the mirror and see yesterday's joys lingering in my eyes. I want to look at my friends and forget their flaws. I want to meet someone and listen to them and love them for who they are. I don't want to meet someone and wonder what their daily intake is, their metabolic rate, their daily energy expenditure, their weight, their size. These things don't matter!
But they do. The shape me, us.  They matter because they are a definition. Maybe that's not the first thing that comes to mind when you look at me, but that's what's always on my mind. It defines me. My whole life is warped around numbers, depression, weight, size, food. Everything ties into it. Somehow.
Part of me wants to get help, to reach out, but I'm scared of who I might become. I'm scared I'd lose myself. I fear that if I become happy my old goals won't matter. I'll give up on school, on dance. I'm plagued with this false future where I've given up everything, and happiness just doesn't seem worth everything. But maybe it is. I don't know. I don't know anything. And it's killing me. Can you O.D. on painkillers? Would it be a bad way to go?
Argh, No! I can't think like that. This isn't right. I'm 16. I should be looking to a long future, not an abrupt self imposed end. Maybe I'll feel better this summer. No school, no parents, no idiots my mother calls boyfriends invading my home. 5 weeks of me. I just need to make it there.

 Special thanks to:

Katie Ehrlich ~ You should! I'll post mine as well :) I wonder if anyone truly fits their name ...

Emma ~ They're fun and healthy. I think I might get and actual (cute) bucket and toss in scraps of paper with any dream I come by on a given day. With all my free time :P Thank you

 

 

Luv ya ladies! I wish everyone a good nights sleep <3 Stay strong