I woke up in a great mood after having been pretty low yesterday. I pretty much slept all day and almost didn't get out of bed. What worsened my mood was that a friend and I had planned on going out yet since my dad got out of work late and was tired those plans got cancelled. It really brought down my mood and attitude and I couldn't understand how something as menial as that could make such an impact. Today was different. I woke up in a terrific mood. I was eager to learn an hour routine I needed to come up with for a dance class I'm teaching on Monday and I actually came up with it. I know all the moves and the music and I just need to perfect it. I also found out that a friend of mine whom I recently spoke to was called up to the Majors. I felt like gold. Then my mom got home and started criticizing my appearance saying I"m gaining weight since all I do is stay home which puzzled me because I felt quite the opposite myself. Clothes are starting to fit better and I had had a hunch that she says that because she has a theory that everytime she tells me I'm losing weight I end up gaining it back so she overexaggerates to make me think I'm gaining weight just to get me to keep losing. Well since I sort of 'figured this out' last week I haven't really let her comments get to me as much as they used to. Well, first off I really hate when she uses references of friends of mine saying "you know you look almost as fat as so and so" and what not. So right off the bat that really bothers me. Well, today when she said it, it really hurt me. I felt like this huge blob of good for nothing skin and fat that I went to the kitchen, took 2 strong laxatives then proceeded to throw up the watermelon I had just eaten. Well, I was successful in throwing up the watermelon but since taking the laxatives I feel quite dry internally. It just makes me feel like shit when she says stuff like that. I know her intentions are good and she doesn't purposely do it to make me feel that way but it just makes me feel like if my own mother, the one person who is genetically programmed to love you, doesn't accept me then who the hell else will? I think I've posted something like that before. It feels redudant. But I watch these shows where the couples are rambling on and on about each other and seeing how crazy the guy is about the girl makes me wonder if any guy will ever feel that way about me? At this point it feels like all they want from me is sex. Which, at a young age is nothing to complain about but to me it's like eating empty carbs. You feel satisfied and excited just obtaining the thing itself and feel ecstasy when it's in your mouth but an hour later, after it's long gone over and done with, you still feel as empty as you did before you even thought about it. That's how I feel about all these baseball players. Well, not all of them. There is one or two that I like. But they'll never see me that way. I almost know for a fact that things will never be that way with them. It's kind of weird and disappointing, (and depressing), but deep down I know I am never going to find that "one other person" that completes me. A lot of my friends are getting married or engaged or already found someone that seems to promise this happily ever after fairytale ending and it hurts me in a way to know that no one in this world feels that way about me. Perhaps I"m not letting anyone in myself, but truth of the matter is, that's what this all winds down to. I see skinny girls getting boyfriends, ugly girls, stupid not funny girls. And I wonder, "What about me? Am I not good enough? Am I not thin enough?" I think this is all winding down to major depression of some sort and it feels like with the little comments my parents say (whether they're joking or slightly serious) are just fuel to the fire. I almost feel as if I am not good enough for anything or anyone. I did try cutting myself but the knives in this house are barely sharp enough to cut tomatoes. I wonder if this is because of my cutting stint two years ago that my parents let the knives go dull. Sharp enough to cut fruit and veggies but not sharp enough to cut my skin. I also can't find my pocket knife I got for Christmas -07 which really angers me because I want it for non-self-infliction purposes. Nonetheless, when I once thought I was on the road to recovery and on the road to being somewhat textbook normal I have fallen off the path again. This time I feel like I walked straight away from the path and right off a cliff. Where I will end up emotionally, I don't know. I can only hope for the best.