Where's that depression I was looking for?

Oh, there you are!

I'm not doing so well, today. Last night I decided that I was feeling thin enough that I could splurge some calories on two beers and the inside of a sandwich. Well, screw that! Went to bed, couldn't sleep, felt warm and feverish all night, woke up nauseous. Had a bowl of oatmeal to settle my stomach, and lo and behold, I feel like a big fat ton of failure. Yes, in less than 24 hours, I went from slender and confident to fat and miserable. And do you know what happens when you get all miserable? All of the things anyone has ever said that makes you sad comes rushing back. Like that time the guy you like said he had a crush on another girl, who's really skinny, and it made you excuse yourself to throw up behind a dumpster. You know, every day stuff like that.

Of course, I should note that for all you new readers out there (all 2 of you!), I do have bipolar disorder. And there is currently a family member in the hospital (who I will not discuss, due to privacy, thanks!), so there's probably more wrong with me than the .2" addition on my waistline due to the two beers and oatmeal. That being said, none of that truth makes me feel any better. And to be perfectly honest, when I get like this, there are very few ways in which I can make myself feel better. I can either go shopping, or eat something terrible for me. Either way, I'm boned. I've actually gotta go do some band work tonight, and tomorrow I've got a gig. Both of these things are highly dependent on my mood, and the way it is now, I'm not sure how I'm going to manage to pull through the next few days. You know when you're so depressed you get shaky and want to go somewhere and cry and eat frozen yogurt and throw up? That's what's going on, right now. I'm not certain if it was brought on by my behavior last night, or the bipolar disorder. I don't know if one causes the other. I just know that this is a low, and I'm not sure what the best way to get out of it is.

But I do know that I've got to get out of it, fast, before I wind up doing something stupid. Like eating a pack of peanut butter crackers.

Internal struggle!

Rosie Mercado

Every once in a while, I come across something that makes me feel pretty good. Empowered, even. That happened today when I saw the first episode of Curvy Girls, a reality show (shut up...) about plus sized models. One of these models, Rosie Mercado, is a hero of mine. She's a young beautiful mom of three who makes a living as a plus sized model. She's done my favorite clothes, Pin Up Girl Clothing, and stars in Curvy Girls. When I see her, I see hope for someone like me. I see how happy I could be if I accepted myself the way so many others have. That being said, it's no secret that I've put on 7.5lbs since I got down to 122.5 (that .5 is important!) a few years ago, and those 7.5lbs haunt me. Yeah, you heard me. 7.5lbs. Something that should be easy to take off, but isn't! I managed to get back to 128 a few days ago, just to sabotage myself with a jaunt to the Renn Faire. I allowed myself to drink beer, eat horrible fried food, all while dressed in tights and a 22" corset. Now, I wouldn't change a bit about my Renn Faire experience. I know it's important to treat yourself, so I don't regret doing this. The problem I have is with the fact that once I got back to work, it was back to my old ways of restrictive dieting. People, don't get me wrong. I love low-carb living, I am an advocate for it, I believe it's a good way to live a healthy life. My problem is that I don't follow my own advice. Under no circumstances does the Atkins diet advocate skipping meals. I do that because I'm crazy and for some reason it's easier for me to skip meals than it is to just bring food. That's where the internal struggle comes in.

I know I'm at a healthy weight. I know I look okay. But I always want to look better, go the extra mile, get back down to that 122.5 I enjoyed just 3 years ago. Imagine, just 3 years ago! I've got jeans I can't wear comfortably now that I wore all the time back then. I feel self conscious every time I eat something off-plan. I know I shouldn't, but I do. That's the trouble! Right now, I can say "Yeah, I look good, I don't need to starve myself!" but the moment I eat something off-plan, the guilt will swell. If only I could have this level of self-esteem no matter what I ate! And I'm not talking about binging on doughnuts, here. I'm saying, man... if I could just eat oatmeal in the morning like a normal person without it spiking my blood sugar and making me crave bread all day!

By now you must be absolutely sick of me whining about my eating disorder, but I have to say that from my position, it helps to whine. It helps when I put things in perspective. When I see the scale at 130lbs, I feel absolutely massive. For my 5' frame, 130 is HUGE in my eyes. But when I write it in my blog, I feel like a jack-ass. Seriously, I'm in the "healthy" weight range, I have no health problems (besides asthma, under control now), and I'm complaining about 7.5 measly pounds?? Yes, I am. I have that big an issue. I go back and forth between pro-ana blogs and fat acceptance blogs. I'm a part of both and neither. I've binged, purged, starved, and blogged and I still do all of it. I probably will, until I find some way to be happy with what I am, which will probably be never. In the meantime, I'm admiring plus sized ladies who are actually happy with themselves.

Doro Pesch

All this being said, I still want to be a successful musician, and we can't all be Adele. Or Beth Ditto. And metal isn't exactly kind to big girls, because lets face it, most mainstream folks expect all metal chicks to either wear a pretty tutu or dress like Lita Ford in the 80's. Hell, Doro's in her 50's and she's still wearing leather pants! Doro is one of those few female metal singers that I admire because she keeps writing, she keeps performing, and she actually makes music that I like. She's not overly girly like the newer metal chicks out there, she's a bad-ass in leather and studs. I look up to her. I want to be that kind of musician, but I guess I have to face up to the fact that I'll probably never look like her, and I have to make myself realize that's okay. Easier said than done, right? Could I be happy if I remained the same size I am, right now, forever? I'm not exactly sure. I think that the process of losing weight is addictive and for me, a little toxic. Once I'm in that vibe, I'm both happy and miserable, energetic and weak. But the same thing happens when I'm not trying to lose weight; eating whatever I want makes me feel lethargic, happy, sad, everything else. Where do I find the balance? I really don't know. It's times like this I miss my therapist!

Greek Yogurt and UK Distribution

Today, I ate Greek yogurt. In an effort to either fix myself or drive myself into a deep depression, I'm trying to eat normally. I had oatmal for breakfast, and brought yogurt and a sandwich for lunch. Dunno if I can bring myself to eat the sandwich, but I will try.

In other news, my band is now with Ravenheart Music! It's a small distribution group in the UK that specializes in female fronted rock and metal, and they will soon be distributing our music accross the pond. Hurray!! The show on Friday was amazing, by the way. With the exception of my singing terribly off-key due to my not being able to hear my guitarist for a certain song (AHHHHH.........!!!), everything else was awesome! We even made a valuable contact in the booking agent of Metal Mike, a very cool guy indeed.

And now, I leave you with the conversation I just had with my husband.

potatofoot: well, you got my attention, how can i help?

me: No idea!
Tell me something sexy.

potatofoot: i am at work, in an open room, with three people being able to watch my monitor

me: Hot.
What are you wearing?

Random Jumbling Crap

So I just shot back a 5-Hour, and I'm feeling slightly more awake than before. Slightly. See, I went to sleep around 11:30 last night, after a night of paper work and reading old comics. Willy and I might be getting a condo, and it's really exciting, but HOLY SHIT do we have a lot to do. Apparently it's harder for people who are poor to buy things. Go figure! Technically, we're not POOR.. we're just not that well off, so we need to get an FHA loan, which takes a lot of work and like, 10 people to pull off.

We put in a bid for a short-sale place that's been on the market for nearly half a year, so we're hoping they'll think we're a nice young couple and say "aw, lets let them have it. They're so cute!" or something to that effect. We'll have to replace the carpet and fix up the bathroom, but it's a nice place. It even has a 2nd bedroom so that I can have my Blood Study/accidental pregnancy back-up room.

Eating wise, I've been clean for the past week. Last night I was slightly bad and had a few boneless wings at Applebees, but all in all I kept it around 30 carbs for the whole day, so I was still good. Dinner was steak and broccoli. I've been asked not to eat anymore rare meat by my darling husband, until we get some health insurance. It's going to be a struggle for me, since I hate meat that's been cooked too much... but anything to give him peace of mind, I'll do gladly. But oh man, that steak was good.

I'm having some trouble eating due to (TMI AHEEEEAAAAD!) side-effects with my birth control. I take it to regulate my hormones, so when it backfires and instead gives me "lady times" for a month straight, I get very annoyed. And nauseous. My calories haven't been good for the past few days, and it's slowing down my metabolism. I know this, because I'm less hungry, despite not eating more than a thousand calories per day. I'm trying to eat more, but I'm limited in what I'm comfortable with eating and the nausea is bugging me.

Oh food, I hate you so much.

I'm out!

Well, me and Blood Corps are no more. It turns out I really wasn't appreciated there, just as I feared. But now it's over, I'm out of a toxic relationship that made me physically ill and I'm never going to put myself in that position again. It was like breaking up with my abusive ex-boyfriend all over again.

I was in such a good mood this morning, I actually ate oatmeal. I was really hungry, I can't eat meat because it's Friday, so I got oatmeal. I'm trying not to feel bad about it. Imagine, feeling bad about eating oatmeal... but yes, I feel the guilt, and it's really hard to keep from feeling fat.

Ugh, well, the good news is that as soon as I came home last night, it was to two e-mails with gigs! One at the Rock n' Roll Hotel in DC, the other to place in Chicago.

Freedom, here I come!

Caffeine Experement

So today marks a new experement; namely, I am trying to give up caffeine.

A fool's venture, you say!?

Probably. I usually start the day with coffee. Around 10, I'll add another. Throughout the day, I just drink black coffee. Well, I've been advised to cut the coffee and see if it affects my headaches, so I'm giving it a try, but HOLY CRAP I'm so tired. I actually got a little breakfast this morning, because without my coffee I was getting hunger pangs. I'm also trying to eat more, which is not easy because the feeling of having food in my stomach is not pleasant. I hate feeling full.

My calories lately have been somewhere around 600 - 1200 a day. I'm trying to eat more, but it's so hard to eat at work. I've been bringing salad and tuna, with oil and vinager. For breakfast I had eggs.

Sorry to bore you, people in blog land. Without my coffee I'm sorta brain dead. If I can think of something to be angry about, I'll write summore.

Brain Fights

It's freezing at work, today. Every day I walk about four or five blocks, something like that, in the freezing cold. Usually by the time I get here, it's warm. Today, for some reason, it's RIDICULOUSLY cold.. and it makes me want to eat something hot to make up for it. The problem is, what could I eat that's hot, wouldn't put me off plan, and wouldn't make me feel guilty?? Nothing, that's what. And I can't bring food or drink back to my workplace, so eating would be a temporary fix only.

But isn't it always?

Food angers me. No matterwhat, we always have to eat. And we never stop being hungry. Food is a part of life, but I really wish it wasn't. I wish I could stop being hungry so I wouldn't have to constantly make decisions like, "What do I want to eat?" because truthfully, I don't want to want to eat anything. I want to eat things, but they make me feel guilty. And when I eat things I'm allowed to eat, I feel bored and sad. Good is a source of misery, which is weird considering how much I love to cook. I love seeing other people enjoy my food, but eating it myself is like torture. Eating delicious things are an internal battle. Going to my favorite restaraunts involves internal arguments. Eating anything at work makes me feel like a failure, and the guilt makes me feel INSANE.

I've been eating once a day for the past few weeks, which is HORRIBLE for me. My metabolism is slow enough as it is, and I know that eating this way brings it to a grinding halt. The problem is that when I work, I have nobody to push me toward healthy eating habits but myself. And I will openly admit that I am too lazy to push myself, so the only time I eat is at night because my husband is hungry and if I don't eat with him, he'll be angry and suspicious.

Today, I feel nauseous. I almost ran out to vomit around an hour ago, but it seems to be under control now. Still, my stomach is cramped and in pain, probably due to eating out last night. Nobody else seems to be sick, though, so it might just be me. I don't know. I just know I'm driving myself crazy.

Stress = EAT

So last night I came accross my bank statement online and discovered that we're lower on funds than I had innitially thought. I freaked out. I went into a panic, and grabbed my comfort food; chips and salsa. I got through about 20 carbs worth of chips (basically, two and a half of those big round ones) before I stopped myself. I marched over to Willy, gave him the bag and said, "Eat these, please." He asked that I return them to the living room, which I did, and then contemplated ways to calm my nerves. Since it was getting late, I decided that sleep was a good option. So I asked him, "Honey, I'm having trouble winding down. What do you suggest? Besides Nyquil." He had no ideas, so I went with my gut and headed to the fridge.

See, we have a lot of alcohol at our place. A LOT of alcohol. We used to throw lots of parties, so we just accumulated it. In my fridge, I found a wedding gift that I hadn't finished appreciated. It's a bottle of wine called Bitch. For a wine with such a silly name, it's actually really good. Not too sweet, like most new-age wines. Very full flavored, some cinnamon, goes down smooth. I drank two glasses, and ate a turkey leg. Within half an hour, I was in dream land.

Now, I know that people will say you shouldn't eat before going to sleep. But I've also heard arguments against this. All I know is that if it's gonna help me sleep and wake up early, I'll take the chance. I woke up feeling fine, and both turkey and red wine are low carb. So, here's to me taking control of my emotional eating.

Oh, and off-topic, I hope those two White House party crashers get fined out the ass. They're a pair of complete douchebags.

What the hell is wrong with you people?!

So I know I have this problem, where I see people who have similar bodies to mine, and I'm jealous of them, but I still see myself as a cow. That aside... I found this article online at "Drunken Stepfather", a NSFW site (you might like it, Carlos!) about Chloe Kardashian in a dress that they considered too revealing for a "fat chick" like her. Holy mother of GOD. Look at this freaking WHALE. Here is the article.I know, right??? Look how FAT she is... the cellulite... the goey thighs... the giant gut... oh wait. She has NONE OF THOSE. Yet whoever wrote this article, who I am going to assume at this point is either an ultra-thin supermodel, or an overweight dude. He even included a close up of her tiny little belly. What the hell is wrong with people, nowadays? Just when I think it's okay, maybe I can loosen up on myself a little bit.. I see this and it makes me feel even worse. Because this is the consensus of the public. That a girl who looks like this is fat. It makes me want to punch everyone.

Now, for a small update on my own stupidity, I'm eating again, eating on my plan and hoping to stick to it. I'm trying to get over the fact that it feels good to fucking starve, because I know it's not good for me and it's not helping. Woo. This morning, I tried to return to my roots and made my favorite breakfast; scrambled eggs with tomatoes. If only I had some bacon, I'd have been in heaven. However, I feel that it's my duty to tell you that I did eat breakfast at... 1 PM. 'cuz that's around when I woke up. I don't know how I managed to sleep for 13 hours, but there ya go!

KISS!!

I got a call last night from a friend of mine, asking if I'd like to see KISS for free. Of COURSE!! I went with her and a few friends into my beloved city of DC, and we saw KISS live at the Verizon Center. It was AMAZING. I had such a great time, and was crazy-inspired after wards. I can't wait until this Friday.

However, since this is a weight loss/eating disorder blog, I feel as if it's my responsibility to wrote about what's been going on this week. On Sunday I promised myself I'd go on a liquid diet so I'd be as thin as possible for Friday. Well, Monday night came, and Willy and I were discussing what to do for dinner. I was trying to hide my secret. Then I realized I was lying to my husband, and this was wrong of me. But I knew if I told him the truth, he'd be mad. So after some long internal debate, I told him. He said he wasn't mad, just very sad. So I had a few pieces of meat and some broccoli for dinner. Yesterday, I had coffee, half a cup of egg drop soup, and a small thing of fries at the Verizon Center. I feel so guilty for those fries, but I promised Willy I'd eat something.

I feel so weird for being guilty for eating. At first I felt guilty whenever I ate bad stuff, like fries and bread and other starchy food. Now I feel guilty for eating. I feel happy when I'm on "empty". It feels liberating. This is bad territory. I know if I go back to my therapist I won't be able to tell him the truth, because truthfully, I don't WANT to change. Yesterday my boss found out I weighed 180 and told me how impressed he was that I'd kept it off. Well, the truth is, I'm too paranoid to gain weight. I'm so worried about waking up fat one day that I can't bring myself to eat most of the time. This is not normal. And I don't want to change. Sometimes I try to sleep in as late as I can because sleeping too much makes me nauseous, which keeps me from eating.

Yeah, this isn't normal or good. I know that. But I don't ever want to be fat again, and I'm STILL dying to lose ten more pounds. I hate this mini gut that I have. I hate seeing my thighs so round. Willy says I have too much self hate. I think I have enough to keep myself from being fat again.

Meal Planning

One of the most important things to do while dieting is to plan meals. Personally, I'm good at planning meals when I have an endless budget and can buy as many healthy snacks as humanly possible. Why? Because my husband will EAT THEM ALL within less than a week, leaving me with little to use.

I don't fault him for this. I'm GLAD he eats healthy snacks, but he tends to take more at a time than I can account for, so I'm usually left with a pantry full of canned corn and tuna. As it stands, I currently have that, and a few ziploc bags full of meat in the freezer. Also, a large assortment of spices and condiments, as well as nearly empty bags of rice that shall go untouched so long as I have the strength in me to persevere in this weight loss venture.

So really, I gotta get creative. I noticed I had some eggs in the fridge, which are a godsend to Atkins-ites everywhere. This means that tomorrow I'll have egg salad for lunch, and thank god for that. While at work, I tend to go from being contently full, to HOLY MOTHER OF VADER I AM STARVING. It's that painful type of starving that I always try to induce before going to a really amazing restaurant. I haven't done that in a while, but it's basically my inset idea that if I'm going to eat out, I should be painfully starving so that I can truly appreciate the experience. I don't do this while I'm dieting, because that sort of thinking leads to eating from the ever-present free bread basket that seems to be offered in every restaurant from Red Lobster to the Texas Road House.

ANYHOO, my brain tends to associate pain with pleasure. No, I'm not a cutter, but I am the sort of weirdo who likes to feel hungry because I know that the hungrier I am, the less is in my stomach, which makes it appear flatter. Now, how to explain why I enjoy hot wax dripping... maybe that's a post for another day.

Still, every time I get that surge of confidence with the hunger I feel really weird. Because I LOVE eating, but it makes me feel bad. And that intense hunger is usually followed by nausea and headaches, which I must say, are the worst side effects ever. I've passed out twice due to something associated with hunger and heat. Nearly three times, but the third time I managed to keep myself conscious. So I know it's dangerous to starve, which is why I don't do it. But man, sometimes I wish it did! Because it's so tempting to see anorexic chicks, sometimes. They make it look so easy. If I tried to starve myself, my body would probably stall in weight loss for a week before slowly losing one or two pounds before I just died. And I don't wanna die, I just wanna drop ten pounds. Is that too much to ask!?

I suppose it's enough just to be thankful that I weighed a bit less at my last doctor's visit. Ya'll know how those doctor scales are... at least 5+ more than what you weigh back home, right? Well this time, it was only 4+! Which is a step up. Usually when I go there I'm close to 130lbs. o_O This time it said 126, which is definitely an improvement. At home my usual weight is 122.5. This is definitely the plateau I've reached, and I'm working hard to get past it. Sometimes I do, but just a teeny tiny bit, but then it comes back the moment I eat something bad. I know I gotta keep on it, and luckily I have been for a while now, but that needle just isn't budging. I'm willing to bed that upping my exercise would help, but after spending 9 hours a day in a greenhouse, I'm less willing to go for a run if ya catch my drift...

Oh well, we'll see what I can do. I got a good two weeks before my next show, so here's hoping I can lose a few pounds before then.

Weird Weaknesses

So driving home today, I started having crazy thoughts. I've been known to have secret binge sessions, where I sneak over to a fast food joint and buy something ridiculous on the menu. WHY? I have no idea. Maybe it's the sugar rush. I remember a few weeks ago, I went to McDonalds for a chicken biscuit. It was weird. I ate it like I was in some kind of weird trance. It wasn't even that good, but I got a food high off of it and it just made me feel lousy for the rest of the day.

There are some foods that are really easy for me to turn down on a good day, while there are others that make me feel like crying for not being able to have. Pathetic, yes? Things like cultural food, things that I grew up with like plantains, handmade tortillas, those things make me feel so sad for not having them. Yet now I understand that it's not the food itself, it's the environment that it makes me remember. I remember my mom frying plantains for breakfast during the weekdays, and my dad making tortillas and eggs on the weekend.

When I see cake, it reminds me of birthday parties. Pie reminds me of the holidays. Cookies remind me of the end of soccer games. McDonalds reminds me of my return from a two week trip to Italy, where I fasted throughout the day and ate vegetarian meals, and came home asking that my first meal back in the US be something from those horrible golden arches. And ice cream? Ice cream is like summer days when my mom took use to Tastee Freeze, the tiny run-down ice cream stand back home, which boasted two-inch thick bullet proof glass and soft serve cones.

I'm discovering that food is my gateway to memories, which is horrible. I shouldn't need to eat bad food in order to reminisce, but god help me if the smell of paella doesn't bring tears to my eyes. Some people's comfort food is fried chicken, and others have brownies. Mine? My comfort food is a baguette cut in half, smothered with tomatoes, some olive oil, and a little salt. Some have called it "the poor man's bruischetta". My mom calls it "pan de tomat'". I call it the bane of my existence.

Problems

The problems I've been having losing weight recently stem from the scale, and how I know it works. I know that if I eat something bad, it will go up. And if I eat well for a few days, it will go down. It always takes longer for it to go down than for it to go up, and it is so discouraging when it goes up that I go on this "Well, it's already at 125 again.. so who cares what I eat!" mentality. It's this mentality that's keeping me from losing weight.

All I've been losing for these past few days is water. When I eat lots of carbs, I retain water. When I don't, I lose the water, and eventually, some fat. If I stick to my diet for about a week, I'm down to 122.5. Natch. I get joy whenever I see it go below this, but lately it's been so hard to. I make excuses. "I'm too tired to cook/prepare meals. I've been working 3 jobs. Why did I have to be born this way? I look fine.. sort of..." over and over.

I've gone so far as using a toothbrush to make myself throw up after a carb-laden meal. It's easier for me to enjoy my food, then just get rid of it, than it is to not eat it. How pathetic is that? And the worst thing is, I don't even really like it. I just crave it to make myself feel better. I use food as medicine, but then I feel so guilty that I get rid of it. Then I feel even more guilty.

I haven't done this a lot. It's tempting, but, I'm a musician and I know that if I continue this habit I'll end up damaging myself beyond repair. But the urge is so strong, sometimes. And it makes me pissed off to no end because if that whole "calories in, calories out" bullshit were true, I'd be one skinny bitch. I never eat more than 1000 calories in a day. I know I burn more than that amount just by living, so where the hell is MY weight loss? I don't see any weight loss unless I eat nothing but meat and vegetables. That's just how my body is wired. My native genes are not made to digest starchy vegetables and excess complex carbs.

I hate how my brain works. How I can love myself and hate myself at the same time. I want to lose these last 20lbs, but how can I when I repeatedly sabotage myself?

Anonymous

I've gotten past the idea of being an anonymous blogger. I doubt many people read this, but those who do know exactly who I am. I've read pro ana blogs where they have to be anonymous because they're worried someone will find out who they are and put them in a hospital for their eating disorder. I'm not that bad with mine, so I don't have that fear. If there's others out there who go through things similar to me, I want them to know they're not alone. I'm not just some imaginary person on the internet, I'm out there working every day and playing my music. I'm not going to go away because I'm not going to let this disorder get the better of me. I refuse to let it own me, like some ana girls really really want. It's painful to live this way, but in my case, it's not fatal and it won't become fatal. So I'm not going to hide this blog, or my face.

Urge to kill... rising.....

So today I took a nice trip to see my lady doctor. I will call her my lady doctor because the word "gynocologist" just doesn't sound as nice. Anyhoo, I was getting weighed, and the nice nurse wrote down my weight.

128 lbs.

GOSHDAMMIT I hate the scales at doctors offices!! They always add another 5lbs to what I think I weigh! See this morning, I left all happy because woo! I was 123lbs. Even the Wii Fit said so, so it must be true, right? Well who am I supposed to believe!? The doctor's office scale, or Nintendo?!

I suppose I should count my blessings that I am still in the 120 range with those damned doctor's office monstrosities... maybe they just add the 5lbs as a conspiracy. Wouldn't that be awful?? Imagine all of those girls with eating disorders who suddenly see an extra 5lbs. I mean shit, if it makes me panic, I can't imagine what it would do to one of those girls.

So I go to Shoppers to get my prescription and a few groceries, and wouldn't you know it, this sweet-faced Latino guy working at Wachovia tries to get me to sign up for a new account. Sorry, I can't, already have two; personal and small business (one for me, one for Blood Corps), so no more bank accounts. He was like, "band? Really? I play guitar..." and the rest of the conversation was him asking about Blood Corps. He was really sweet, but I could tell that this conversation started off as:

- She's Latina. Lemme go speak Spanish.

Because he literally asked me if I spoke Spanish, my ethnicity, ect. It's a common subject. I wonder if white people do this? "Hey Billy, where you from?" "Nebraska." "No, I mean, FROM from?" "The fuck should I know??"

I don't know, I've had that since I was little and it always kinda irks me. I can only say "My mom is from Spain and my dad is Salvadorian" so many times before I wanna scream, "I'm brown and my parents speak Spanish!!" and get it over with. It's cute how Salvadorians can TELL I am Salvadorian, but when I say I'm half Spanish they're like "Ohhh I understand..." because.. I don't know. What about my face says "Salvadorian"? Or maybe it's the fact that I'm so short. I know my nose is pretty Spanish.. all long and.. I don't even know. I get asked this question so often I can't help but analyze it every single time.

Practice, issues, sad.

So last night we found out that Skittles broke his arm. Very sad and upsetting to see him hurt. Ashley (my keyboard player) has had it rough this week, too. While at the moment I have a few money issues, I just can't allow myself to feel too bad. I went through a hideous "low" last week that involved stomach pain, depression and nausea, and I just don't want it to come back. I have no control over my highs and lows, but in a way I feel that last week's "low" was a blessing. If I were going through a low in my current state, I'd likely be suicidal.

But tomorrow night we have a show, and despite the fact that it's not a big one and we're not an opener, I am still excited. I love playing in front of people. I was born to perform and make people happy. When I play, I want people to feel that squealing joy that I get when I listen to someone like Edguy. And that's not going to happen unless we play. So, I'll be praying for Skittle's wellbeing, and hoping that he heals soon. Not just for the band, but because I like him a lot, and a guy that nice doesn't deserve to be in pain.

Besides, the cast totally doesn't go with his heels.

I'm excited for the weekend for a few reasons. First, the show of course.. but also, I'm excited about being able to sleep in, tomorrow. I've tried getting used to sleeping at 12 and getting up at 5:30, but, I just can't do it. My body can't handle not having enough sleep. It might have something to do with my recent eating habits, which incidentally, have more to do with my limited budget and time more than my eating inhibitions. I'm not entirely convinced that those are gone, though. Last night I tried to eat a sandwich, and I couldn't stomach it. I ate half of it for breakfast today and now I feel this combination of guilt and nausea. I HATE HATE HATE wasting food. I don't want to throw it away. My only choice is to save it and hope Willy willy eat it. Which he probably will.

It's really unfair. I got my swimsuit and I'm excited to wear it, but my legs are still terrible, YET, my ribs are clearly visible. My upper body is okay, my arms aren't as toned as I would like but they're not awful and you can SEE MY FUCKING RIBS. Like, not in a good way. My clavacle and collar bones are clearly visible, too. I think my body is some kind of medical anomoly. And it pisses me off.

Sigh..

Another day, another Atkins shake to tide me over for the next.. er... five hours? Well, that's not exactly fair. See I've already been here for four hours. So the shake is supposed to last me for nine.

I really need a raise. I never figured I'd actually be a "starving artist", but I just can't bring myself to eat unhealthy food anymore. Given the choice between Ramen and starving, I'd much rather starve. I dunno which is worse, really.

This weekend flew by quickly, and I'm pretty dissapointed in how it was spent. I love WoW, don't get me wrong, but an entire weekend indoors, when outside it was so bright and beautiful really made me sad. I hate spending weekends indoors, but I'm broke, and Willy isn't willing to pitch in so we can go drive somewhere nicer. I had been planning a trip to VA to take the Skyline Drive, maybe visit an orchard, but no dice. He had to pay $400 to get his car fixed (LAME), and I had to pay for medicine, amongst other things. This really blows. I hate not having money. Where the hell is that raise I was promised?

Fell off the wagon..

Yeah, I did. I fell off the wagon. I was depressed, so I ate crap I shouldn't have.

I didn't even really ENJOY it.. it's just we have no food in the house, and by the time everyone gets home we're too tired to go shopping! Well, lets go shopping today, dammit!! Maybe our toilet paper shortage will encourage an exodus to the supermarket.

Am I just crazy?

So I was inspired by a wonderful blog post today, over at The Hobo Stripper. A lot of the things she says I find myself thinking deeply about. Today's post had me really look at myself and the world around me.

Yes, I've been influenced by the media. My friends, my family, everyone around me has. So of course, growing up I hated myself because all of the kids called me fat. So why was it one of the kids called me one night, to tell me he thought I was beautiful? Was it a dare? He never told anyone. Of course not, that would have been embarassing. Nobody thinks the fat girl is pretty. Still, it made me sohappy to think that someone thought I was pretty that I actually couldn't sleep for a few days.

I've always been in some kind of spotlight. My mom did this to me. She found out I could sing when I was in preschool, so ever since then it was auditions, talent agencies, stages, and the only place I felt accepted was on stage because it was one thing I could do better than anyone else. And I never stopped to think that maybe it wasn't my fat that the other kids hated. Maybe it was the fact that I could do something that they couldn't. I was the only kid in the ENTIRE SCHOOL who had been accepted TWICE into the honor's chorus. So in the 6th grade, who did the award for best choir member or something go to? A girl who had only been in it once. I was so angry. She only ever sang one solo for school, where I sang at least three or four. I've carried this bitterness around for eleven years. Eleven years! And it's been the same way throughout those eleven years.

First, middle school. The girls hated me because I was accepted into all sorts of choral programs. I sang solos even though I wasn't technically IN chorus class. I was called fat, repulsive, everything. So why was it that anyone who knew me outside of school I easilly became friends with?

Then high school. I'll admit, I found three REALLY good friends in high school. The four of us were inseperable. I loved them for how they made me feel; accepted, wanted, and everything. I never really felt ugly around them. I did what I wanted and damn.. I ended up being 180lbs. I was really really fat for a girl who's only 5'1". I look back on those pictures and shudder, because I was so fat.. but I also look back and see that in all of my pictures, I'm smiling. When was the last time I was that happy? Back then, I went swimming and didn't care that people saw me.

Now, 50lbs thinner, I refuse to put on a swimsuit near my boyfriend's family. The sight of the fat I have left makes me ashamed of myself. I eat low carb out of guilt, because I KNOW I can be thin, if only I try hard enough.

But then people say I'm not really fat. People who care about me. Now that I think about it, only two people have ever called me fat in the past 5 years. One of them was a bitch that nobody liked.. the other one was a guy who made light of my eating disorder. I was talking to my friends about how my mom was worried about me not eating, and he smirks and says "I doubt that", and laughs. Worst off, it was one of Willy's cousins.

Well I'm sorry I'm not thin, but I do not overeat. I haven't overeaten in so long, I doubt I even could. I have so much guilt when I DO eat, that food has become like this horrible punishment. And then I read posts like in Hobo Stripper's blog, and I realize that this all might be in my head. Maybe I AM normal. Am I?? I'm 130lbs at 5'1". I'm in the "healthy" weight range, but I still feel fat. I can see fat on me. But that's normal, isn't it?? Maybe I just don't want to be normal. I go on stage, and I want people to see someone hot. I don't feel hot. I'm confident about my singing, but not my appearence. It's just not fair that I have to beat myself up over how I look when I hardly eat anything, and other girls can eat whatever they want and not gain a thing.

So how much of it is true? How much is in my head? And can I ever go back to eating like a "normal person", or will I always feel that gut wrenching guilt?