Being defeated is usually a temporary condition; giving up is what makes it permanent.

 

High hopes for Monday.

High hopes for the week.

High hopes because I know I can.

Terrible weekend food-wise.

Broke my fast on Friday night.

Lost count of how many times I purged over the last two days.

This is going to stop, I don't want to keep doing it.

Not allowing myself any solid food tomorrow.

 

 

I love you, girls.

As I finally managed to get my U.S. phone to work again,
anyone would like to be my texting buddy? Yes? Or yes?

I'd really appreciate some extra support!
And I have a lot of love to give :)

Yours always,

Lu.

When you feel down, always remember that...

Everyone's mad here.

 

For quite a while now, 

I've lived with a plastic smile plastered on my face. 

Have been feeling so miserable, drowning in my depression.

The other day, someone told me I lived in a denial;
he couldn't have been more right.

They say you really are the person you are when no one's looking.

If that's the case (and I know it is), I'm just a pitiful little existence,

lonely when in need of someone to hold me,

listening to sad songs when I should try to cheer myself up,

withdrawing from everyone and everything

and, indeed, living in a denial.

The balloon of misery in my ribcage is getting bigger.

It's all-consuming, filled with self-pity, unhappiness and secrets.

Will it deflate, or will it burst?

I honestly can't predict right now;

and meanwhile, I don't eat, I don't sleep,

I avoid people and their wondering stares.

 

 

 

 

 

 I'll be more optimistic, I promise.

Just not right away.

I love you, and your support is what I need;

but you know me: if I'm not happy myself,

I'd feel like a hypocrit if I tried to cheer you on...

so I remain silent.

But let me just say- 

your comments mean the world to me, my darlings.

Yours,

Lu.

It's all in our h(e)a(n)ds.

Senior year in college is killing me slowly yet surely.

I have been eating my frustration, depression and stress away.

Literally. Whatever the plans were in the beginning of the semester,

I simply couldn't get myself to stick to them. And the vicious circle

of frustration began... you know what I'm talking about.

Can't fit into my favorite pair of jeans. Yes, it's that bad.

It was on Sunday that I saw the dreaded number 60 (kg...132 lbs),

and realized this needs to stop.

Attempted to start a liquid diet yesterday.

Soup for lunch, liters of coffee, a can of diet coke. 

Half a pack of cigarettes.

Screwed up at night: ate half a box of Turkish Delight.

Was so mad at myself that I purged.

Coffee for lunch today.

Latin Aerobic Dance at noon, an orange afterwards.

Going to spinning at 5.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here's to us.

 Lu.

...because it's time to be honest with myself.

Back in the States: school has started once again, and now that I am in my senior year of college, I realize how fast time flies. Here I am, thinking about how far I've come, how deep and how many times I've fallen, how much I have changed over the years, and yet, I still need to remind myself quite often that the most important fact I should be keeping in my mind (even if it's way too easy to forget) is that I've picked myself up too many times to simply ignore how possible things are if you just believe in yourself. Because they are possible. If you firmly set your mind to something, you can achieve great things.

My summer at home was, well, partly magical, partly confusing, partly heartbroken, partly filled with trying to glue my heart back together (partly by dating the wrong men, partly by drinking away the pain), and partly miserable, trying to figure out what I wanted out of my life. I was looking for myself, and don't take me wrong, I still am looking (and still not finding), but I'm slowly putting the puzzle together.

There's a new man in my life.

He says he loves me, but I'm not quite sure it's me who loves, or simply the idea of what I represent (for what it's worth, for him it's escape). He's charming, well-mannered, passionate, understanding, intelligent, and 4,712 miles away.

This is him:

And this is me:

...but I don't want to hide any more...

...because it's time for me to be true to myself,

to be true to my goals, and my achievements.

It's time for me to pick myself up (once again)

and accept all the failures that have made me stronger.

It's time to go on: it's now or never.

Let's do this, loves.

Let's be beautiful.

Yours always,

Lu.

Find what you love and let it kill you.

 

Got back into the habit of no breakfasts, purged lunches, four espressos a day and cigarettes.

Shrinking again: I feel it, I see it. I'm doing it to myself again, yet can't stop. It brings me the kind of peace of mind I needed and the kind of self-control I wasn't able to grasp and hold onto for so long.

The hipbones I haven't seen in months are beginning to show and it only means two things:

(1) I am winning the battle against my body, the fat embracing my bones and the food cravings stuck in my head.

(2) I am losing the battle against the illness that has been my best friend for over two years now.

...somehow, for some ill and uncontrollable, yet fascinating and strangely comforting reason, I am not willing to give up now. This time, I will get down to the weight I always wanted to be and never had the courage (or the right amount of continuous self-persuasion) to be.

The old determined girl is back.

For good or bad, Lu is on the winning streak again.