TRIGGER WARNING -- anorexic in recovery talk, inner conflict and shit. Not so much the first paragraph but the ones after.
I can't decide if I'm annoyed or turned on, haha. This entry could go in a million directions, so bare with me. I'm also half asleep. I went to bed at 4am, Luke came home from partying at 5am, drunk and horny as hell, came straight up and wanted to stick his dick in me, so that went on for like an hour because he first had to wake me up (sliding his dick up and down my butt crack did that) then negotiate with me, because my ass was "really ouchies" and he really wanted to "tap that ass", lol. Nice gangsta talk. I was too sleepy to suck him off and he wasn't in the mood to be bottom so after some mutual masturbation I was like fiiiiiiiiiiiiiine and rolled back onto my stomach and he pounded me like a happy puppy. It was kind of hot, but I was really tired and I knew that if he wasn't as drunk as he was, he wouldn't have kept on nagging me to let him fuck me. I don't care how drunk he gets, I don't even really care if he fucks me when I'm not in the mood, but it was the fact that we are no longer doing D/s play, and that he was wanting me to submit, and I would have been more than happy to submit if we were still in a D/s relationship (as opposed to a "vanilla" relationship, which we are attempting for the sake of my recovery, but by god we both miss it), but we're not so, I don't know, just kind of confusing, I really don't know. I know when he wakes up he'll come and apologise to me like mad and I won't care at all anymore and hell I'll probably ask him to fuck me again, but right now I'm like huh, I said my ass was sore, jerkface! But he fingered me and stuff first and used plenty of lube and it didn't really matter in the end anyway... so what am I complaining for? I don't know!! Eeeggh.
Aaaaaaaanyway. I called one of my gazillion new doctors a "fucking BITCH" yesterday and walked out and slammed the door. Tantrum, much? I was asking for laxatives and she wouldn't let me have them. Goddammit. I've never abused them in the past and I just want something, ANYTHING, that will make this easier and I'm all out of ideas and they are just like "lolz deal with it bitch!!!!!!!!!!11 mebbeh next time u will think twice b4 starving urself for years on end LOLZZZZZZZZZZZZ" Also, the group leader for my Friday afternoon support group is now my MORTAL ENEMY. Hate the fucken bitch. I can't remember why exactly, I just know that I don't like her! And plus, she totally changed the subject, which was a good one, into something that I totally couldn't contribute to AT ALL. I was like oh jeez thxxx this is utterly not helping me in fact it's kind of triggering so go fuck yourself and BYE.
So yeah. Friday was not a good day for me at the clinic. The rest of the week was just fine but Friday was shit. I was tempted to pick up my chair and throw it at the stupid group leader bitch, but I've done that shit before and only end up feeling guilty about it forever so I contained myself. I would have walked out but if I got up off my chair, chair throwing would have ensued. Ensued? What the fuck does that mean? *looks up in dictionary*
verb (used without object), -sued, -su⋅ing.
1. to follow in order; come afterward, esp. in immediate succession: As the days ensued, he recovered his strength.
2. to follow as a consequence; result: When those two friends meet, a battle of wits ensues.
Man, I'm always using words that I don't know what they mean, and look them up in the dictionary and find that they fit perfectly in the sentence that I'm saying, and ...how does that happen? Weird.
Soooo yeah. Been an "intensive out-patient" at this place for a full week now. Um, still feeling quite positive. I can feel positive but still utterly hate it, right? I'm forcing myself to eat and it SUCKS but the fact is, I'm doing it, right? Last night I was talking to Daniel on MSN and I asked him if I should have something to eat, (I was so hungry my stomach was doing that concave thing and I was almost bent over in hunger, which is a state that typically I view as being "SUCCCESSS!!" but right now it's annoying because it means that I definitely have to eat because to not eat would be rather anorexic behaviour. But a snack at 4am was not on my meal plan so I was all torn in two about it, bah. Aaaanyway, I asked Daniel, shouod I eat? Or should I put this bag in the bin, take these boxes upstairs, blah blah blah (I was compulsively rearranging my junk that I've hoarded over the years and refuse to throw away and instead keep on trying to "tidy" or make "smaller" somehow but really it needs to be all thrown fucking away but becase I'm absolutely fucking crazy I can't fucking throw it away), and he said, eat! So I was like *phew* ok, so I went and made myself some cereal, and he had to go offline then and I got pissed off and couldn't eat it anymore Even though I was still really hungry.
*sigh* I'm a fucking freak. I'm also stupidly taller than pretty much EVERYONE else at the clinic, which makes me feel like a giant ogre and way too fat to be there. Trying to justify it as "hellooo I'm a male, I'm over six foot tall, of course I'm going to be BIGGER than these girls and women, taller doesn't equal fatter!" I mean I don't WANT to look like a tiny anorexic girl ... I want to look like a tiny anorexic boy! *ahem* no, but it's difficult, because I really do feel absolutely huge. I keep on wanting to lean over and being like, so uh, how much do you weigh? lol. But what good would that do? I'm not competing for fucking anorexic of the year. I'm trying to get better. Because I DO. I want to get BETTER. And I want to be friends with the staff, not call them fucking bitches and throw furniture at their stupid ugly fucking mugs!!
I would kill for some bloody gender diversity at this place. I stick out like a sore thumb. I have nowhere to hide.