One-fuckin'-fifty. 150! My weight! I thought I was doing good, but I guess not. Jesus. I don't know how Josh could want this body. We were talking about him going to bootcamp this summer, and he was all "keep your figure", and seemed repulsed at the idea of me losing weight. BUT it's NASTY! It makes me shiver here just thinking about it.
Okay, so I'm not that fat, I guess. My perfectionist is just trying to take over my brain again. But...I'm jiggly. It's icky.
I vow from this internet journal that I will wake up every other morning at 5 to work out, and to work out every other night at 8. Will that be so hard? Yes. Do you have to do it? Yes and No. Depends which personality you're talking to, missy.
I took Josh to my shrink today. She suggested that he get therapy too, which doesn't surprise me. We both grew up in crappy childhoods, but I only get therapy. Which isn't good. I think in the beginning of our relationship, he would've been angry this much as well if I ever gave him a chance to express himself. But he was always too busy comforting me, so he never expressed his feelings or emotions about anything. So now this guy I have now is reality. Reality bites sometimes. I want him to be healthy. I feel it's unfair that he was with me when I tried to killed myself, yet I feel like breaking up with him now over his anger. It's not fair but...I just can't live with this forever. I'm sure he would've broken up with me too eventually, if I just kept talking about suicide and never doing it. But I guess I'm afraid of reaching his breaking point. Karma sucks.
Swimming ended yesterday. You know what's SO unfair? I'm 5'6, with a curvy, slightly bigger frame. I have big hips and big thighs, and small boobs (which looks so unbalanced naked -wince-). And yet, all these skinny girls have HUGE boobs! They're all my height, weigh significantly less, and yet they're walking around with their double D's in their bikini top that barely cover them. It's just so not fair! Smaller frames get smaller boobs. Bigger frames get bigger boobs. I thought that was nature, but I guess not. I want a boob job. I'm just so unbalanced on top.
Mr. S. acklowledged my existance today. Hell, he even smiled at me. I wish I would've striked a conversation or something. I even had him alone at the end of class, I could've done something enticing. But no. I'm the shy girl, I don't do that. And the only thing I could think of talking about after class was my test make up tomorrow..or today really. God, I'm such a freak. But I want him so bad. I wonder what his turn ons are...I wonder if he finds the skinny girls in my class more attractive. I wonder if he thinks I look older than I am. A lot of people usually tell me that. Dear God, just let him rape me for one time, ONE TIME, in my junior year, and I'll pay you back by going to church every time I can. And this isn't the post-suicide stomach ulcer type of pray. I promise I'll do it if he can just FUCK me.
Man, I'm getting desprate. I'm praying to a God that sometimes I doubt of existance. I know there's something though..universe can't just be created through science...
I painted my nails and really should redo my eyebrows. Maybe that'll turn Mr. S. on, my awesomely plucked eyebrows. Ha!