June 8, 2010: I think I'm cheating.

What's it say in the rulebook about clear mascara? I suppose the rulebook, really, is within my own self, and my own self feels okay about it, but also feels like I should feel like I'm cheating. I mean, all it really does is clean up these things on my eyes to make them more noticeable...but then again, I suppose that is what regular mascara does, only in a heavier way. I'm not sure. There's really no point. Cause I put it on, just to test it out, and then I saw the rest of my face and it made no difference. I was still unsatisfied. And the whole point of this is to not care so much about what I look like, right? Yet, I'm tiptoeing around rules when I was supposed to just go cold turkey. (Which I have-though I never much cared for turkey anyways). I'm fooling myself, again. It's a struggle, now. Not so much as it was in the beginning. Now it has settled in. But still a struggle. I'm finding ways to go around this "looking ugly while not wearing makeup" thing, and failing. My own eyes see one thing and that's every scar and line I so desperately chose to hide all those years before. I don't see beauty in my skin, yet. And I am not trying all that hard to get there-to that place of contentment. Instead, I am doing what I have always done, and that is whatever it takes to not look the way I do.

I have today, joined my parents in their quest to lose weight, by starving myself of all foods and joy by following the guidelines of a book called, 21 Pounds in 21 Days. Which has actually proven to work, for my folks. But day one is ending for myself, and I want to die. It doesn't help that I am reading a book where the first whole section is about a women's quest across Italy, and all she talks about is food. And it also doesn't help that I happen to be stashing a bag of pretzels within reasonable arm length, and have been secretly snacking on it in between herbal teas and berry drinks. I'm a nutcase. And the worldly simplicity of my happiness lies in complete contradiction with one another and I am overcome with confusion as to what exactly I am to do about this. I am about to tell you a secret, you invisible reader of mine. (Honestly, I'm writing to a wall, while pretending I'm writing a book worthy of all eyes and hearts). Anyhow, I'll spill this secret anyway, that I have been saying to myself for over a week now, and am at a complete loss of how to solve this issue: I find my truest happiness in eating and my purest depression in gaining weight.

So I'm left with nothing. No solution, no happy medium, and definitely no win-win. I eat, and am joyful, yet within ten minutes of finishing the meal, I look at myself, and become severely saddened by my reflection. And I have thoughts of being thin, and it brings me great comfort, so I try this, losing weight thing, yet I'm left hungry, and bitter. As I am now. And I am torn at how to fix this.

This year isn't about my appearance, right? Then again, my whole life has most often been about my appearance. And I've never been happy about it. So do I eat, joyfully, only to be kicked in the face with my own guilt and self-loathing, or do I starve myself...on this diet, ish, thing, to find out what I really would look like thin and beautiful (in my eyes), depressing myself of the very joy a simple taste gives me? And do I leave my eye lashes dull and lifeless, resting peacefully (almost invisibly) upon my eyelids, or do I awaken them abruptly with a coat of clear liquid only to satisfy the part of myself longing to be beautiful while ugly?

I'm at a loss. In all aspects. I am standing in the center of a road with two paths layed out in front of me, begging to be choosen, with the most confusing descriptions: Happiness and Depression, or Depression and Happiness. And I have been standing here so long, I finally just sit down, in the dirt, slightly teary eyes, cause I know this is going to be a tough decision. I think I'll sleep here tonight.