I decided to not be such a little bitch and do something to fix my problems.
So this blog is no longer.
Check out my new one - Penniesgray.tumblr.com
You’ll love it.
This is the honest thoughts of a girl named Daniela and her clash with beauty.
“The winter was a cold one, but I sometimes forgot to turn on the heat, unsure whether the cold was real or just something inside me”
“I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And what do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life. And I am horribly limited.”
“You could ink yourself until everyone knows all the things you love. You could wear uniforms that gave you all the authority in the world. Lose weight until there was nothing left. Paint the face. Suck in your gut. But in the dark, stripped down to your bones, all that remains is you.”
Last night
Do you ever get that feeling where you don’t want to talk to anybody? You don’t want to smile and you don’t want to fake being happy but at the same time you don’t know exactly what’s wrong either, there isn’t a way to explain it to someone who doesn’t already understand. If you could want anything in the world it would be to be alone. People have stopped being comforting and being alone never was. At least when you’re alone no one constantly asks you what’s wrong and there isn’t anyone who won’t take “I don’t know” for an answer. you feel the way you do just because. you hope the feeling will pass soon and that you will be able to be yourself again, but until then all you can do is wait.
“The mask I polish in the evening by the morning looks like shit”
“If you want to burn yourself remember that I love you. And if you want to cut yourself remember that I love you. And if you want to kill yourself remember that I love you.”
As soon as I figure someone out, I get bored and move on.
I hate how impulsive I am. I feel fat, I cut all my hair off thinking that doing a pixie-cut will make me look better and sexier.
It didn’t, however. I hate myself even more now.
“An eating disorder is not usually a phase, and it is not necessarily indicitive of madness. It is quite maddening, granted, not only for the loved ones of the eating disordered person, but also for the person herself. It is, at the most basic level, a bundle of contradictions: a desire for power that strips you of all power. A gesture of strength that divests you of strength. A wish to prove that you need nothing, that you have no human hungers, which turns on itself and becomes a searing need for the hunger itself. It is an attempt to find an identity, but ultimately it strips you of any sense of yourself, save the sorry identity of “sick”. It is a grotesque mockery of cultural standards of beauty that ends up mocking no one more than you. It is a protest against cultural stereotypes of women that in the end makes you seem the weakest, the most needy and neurotic of all women. It is the thing you believe is keeping you safe, alive, contained - and in the end, of course, you find it is doing quite the opposite. These contradictions begin to split a person in two. Body and mind fall apart from each other, and it is in this fissure that an eating disorder may flourish, in the silence that surrounds this confusion that an eating disorder may fester and thrive.”
—From: Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia, by Marya Hornbacher; HarperFlamingo, 1994
