After my last entry I briskley walked to the gym. My brain was racing. I had to pay my previous months member fee at the gym, and when the girl was talking to me I was so utterly un-present that I felt like a poorly functioning automated machine. I get this feeling that I am peering at the world from within a glass box…at my worst I percieve things almost as though I’ve smeered valseline all over my window as well. It was a vaseline situation yesterday. I hardly heard what the girl had said, I don’t remember the conversation but I remember her repeating something she said and looking slightly bemused. I burnt 500 calories in 35 minutes on the eliptical trainer.
When I went home I ate too much and vomited. I can be doing so well with myself and then one cracker will drive me speedily onto an icy patch and the rest is just death.I felt discusting. I looked at my side profile in the bathroom mirror and remembered that fucking psychic Dennis telling me when I was 16 that I would have a weight problem at this age and would struggle with my weight all my life. I remember when he told me that I laughed and said Im much too conscious of my figure to let that happen. I stood there that night, like many other nights, maybe hundreds of them by now, thinking, fuck. I have a problem and I can’t control myself. fuck. what is wrong with me. Think of your TEETH, you need those to chew. You will be broke from dentist bills. And why am I so preoccupied with myself? When there is so much else going on with the world? Why am I so in my head, in my own personal hell? Why do I create this for myself? I am a person with so many advantages and priviledges in life because of where I am from alone. And here I am sabbotoging myself. I’m selfish and vain and I’m not doing anything about it.
And I laugh a little as I think about the people who have told me I was “very mature” for my age…if only they knew how much of a child I am in my head… helpless and bratty.
I drank too much of my chinese tea on saturday when we all went out, myself, my roomates, the couchsurfer from quebec, and friends of my roomates. We were all having a great time but my stomach was in such knots and when we got home I had to ask if 1am was too late to shower because my stomach was in such pain that I almost cried clutching it, thinking why the fuck do I do this to myself? and for who?
Shamefully I must also admit that I began fantasizing about dying in an obsure place in the world from some terrible occurence that happened out of my hands.