Chapter Text
psych0ticutslvt’s blog
˗ˏˋ09/23 — vent
i’ve been dealing with all my mental illness shit for a long time, but for the past year, everything has gotten so much fucking worse. my eating disorder is absolutely wracking my life, but at least i got from 150 to 89 lbs. self-harm has gotten so much worse, literally having to stitch myself up sometimes… i’m just so fucking done. so sick of it all. not to mention how delusional i am, thinking there’s been someone stalking me……
i don’t know what to do anymore and i’m sick of it all.
I scoffed at myself, rereading each line. I sound so fucking dumb . Sighing, I posted it to my sad little online journal. Forum’s aren’t as popular as they used to be, but the one I’m on has had a little boom. I’ve made a few online friends, all of us dealing with our own bullshit. I have a daily-ish blog post, but tonight I’ve just come to the front and I’m so sick of it. I’m so sick of it .
My thoughts continue racing on as my playlist keeps playing. A Poem by La Dispute flooding my brain, mixing with my horrible headspace, creating plans… so overwhelmed . Closing my computer down, standing up, quickly holding onto the corner of my desk so that I don’t fall as my vision blacks out for a second, then quickly getting to my bed to lay down to stare out the window. More anxiety and paranoia fill me looking at the treeline. I swear if I could just see one thing … something to prove my paranoia and confusion … no! Just shut up and stop it, you dumb, psychotic whore.
Sighing for what feels like the thousandth time, I turned over to reach on my end table that held my sharp, beautiful razor. Lifting my sleeve, I felt the feeling of being watched again. Well, might as well give them a show … bringing the razor to my skin, I made a few deep gashes, as well as some deep-ish gashes. Feeling the creeping feeling of being faint, and being stared at, I went a little bit more crazy on my arm before setting the razor blade down and standing up gently so as to not pass out. Shucking my sleeve down, taking a deep look out the window, I waddled down the hall to the bathroom to clean myself up and get ready for bed.
Back in my bedroom, I took off my pyjama pants and stared at my legs in the mirror. God, the more I stare, the more deformed they are … sighing yet again, I sat on my bed again and opened my window up and exposed myself to the cool, September air. I grabbed my little pipe, and packed it with some stuff in my grinder. Sitting down the pipe, I grabbed my phone to turn on music, quickly turning my head towards the treeline at a rustle. A fucking rustle. There is someone! I knew it all alone! Fuck… no one cares. But I finally fucking know! I smiled to myself and turned back to my phone to blare Acid Bath. Lighting my bowl, I let myself believe I’ll have an okay rest of my evening. At least, as okay as it could ever be.
Unfortunately, I woke up once again to another day. A rush of strawberry-flavored incense flooded my senses, rolling over and seeing my roommate lighting a stick in my room. I yawned, “What are you doing?... what time is it?” I leaned over, checking my phone and seeing “11:30”.
“Uhh… 11:30? I’m lighting incense because it smells like pot.” said my roommate, Maggie.
Maggie was pretty cool, she was kinda hippy-ish. She got me into incense and tarot cards. She was also a horrible roommate, never cleaning up after herself, being late on rent, yadda yadda yadda. “It smells good… okay, get out now, please.”
She rolled her eyes and left without a word. I ignored the rude comments in my mind, got up and started to put on pants to go to the bathroom. Looking out the window, I saw nothing. I’m still so excited about that rustle… unless it was a squirrel, or something … whatever it was, it’s not there right now. Going to the bathroom, I took off my clothes and stepped onto the scale. 88.6 lbs. Whatever. I took a quick shower without washing my hair, to get all the blood stuff off from last night. Got out, brushed my hair, teeth, and face, trying not to look as horrible as I feel.
I stared at myself in the mirror, pinching at parts around my abdomen, then getting really close to my face. Pulling down the skin, looking at my complexion, my eyes, and details of my face. The more I stared at myself, the more my face started to morph into an even uglier version of myself. I stepped back from the mirror, and looked at my body from many angles again, and sighed.
Walking back to my bedroom, I started thinking of what kind of makeup I should do today. I hate feeling ugly. I sat down on the floor in front of my big mirror with all my makeup in front of it, having just a simple face in mind. I turned on my favorite playlist and got lost in my own features.
Taking my ponytail out, I checked my phone to see that I hadn’t realized 45 minutes had passed. I shook my hair out and gave myself a little smile. I’m so gorgeous. I’m so pretty. I brushed my bangs and hair how they should be, and started to pick out a nice outfit to make myself feel as cute as possible to push away my bad feelings, like every other day.
I decided on a warm-knit sweater with a black skirt, black tights, and my chic coat that I usually wear out. I got dressed as efficiently as I could to make sure every aspect of the outfit doesn’t make me look fat or pudgy in any way. I felt cute enough, so I grabbed my grinder, vape, and phone and headed downstairs to see what my roommates were doing.
As expected, they started the morning sesh without me. They were playing Sweet Jane by the Velvet Underground on the TV, a classic. I sat down next to Maggie, who was packing another bowl already. I looked towards the kitchen where I heard sizzling and smelled the flour-y scent of pancake mix, seeing my other roommate, Lee, making some breakfast.
“You look so scrumptious today, (y/n). That eyeshadow color really compliments your irises.” she said, looking me directly in the eyes. I averted my gaze quickly, but looked back in between her brows.
“Thank you, bae. I felt like shit last night, so I wanted to feel pretty, y’know?”
She gave me a sympathetic look and handed me the bong. I lit the bowl as she spoke. “Why was last night bad? Were you too paranoid or something?” I exhaled smoke.
“Nah, just… Well, yeah, but… everyday just sucks, really, so I guess I just want to be cute everyday to stop the sadness.” That sounds so fucking dumb. You sound so dumb right now.
“Yeah, I feel you.” She grabbed the bong from my hand and took a big hit. “What time do you have to work today?” she exhaled. “Cuz maybe we could go shopping or something to get your mind off things?”
“Ugh, I work from 3-10 tonight. Fuuuuuck my lifeeee…” I threw my head back, hitting the soft plush of the couch. Lee came over to the couch with pancakes for him and Maggie, and threw a fiber bar at me.
“Since you’re working an 7 hour shift, you better eat something before you go.” he told me. I rolled my eyes at him, knowing what I have to do for my needs. He took a hit off the bong and passed it to me before chowing down on his pancakes. I cashed the bowl, and set it down. Checking my phone, I see it’s only 1:13. Which means an hour and a half of fucking-off before I go to work. I work at this little café in town that’s 15-ish minutes away from home. It’s fine, I get a lot of steps in and free coffee, so that’s cool.
I packed another bowl using my weed, and started flipping through songs before taking a hit. Surprised that Lee put Type O Negative in his playlist, I let Black No. 1 play from the TV and continued to take a hit from the bong.
After having a laugh with Maggie and Lee over a few bowls, I got up and made a bowl of yogurt and oatmeal with the fiber bar Lee threw at me for my pre-work meal. On days when I work, I usually eat a small meal before I go in, fill up on coffee and tea at work, then eat nothing else for the rest of the day. I like to see the scale go down a pound the next day.
I slowly ate my food, waiting for the clock to say 2:40 before I split. I didn’t finish my yogurt, and didn’t even grab my fiber bar before leaving the house.
I’m gonna feel so skinny tomorrow .
