The Orange Diaries

Thank God I’m Pretty

Without being vain, I’d say that I am pretty. I can accept that. I get hit on when I go out a fair bit of the time, by one or two people. So what? I cab de with it. My relationship is safe so who cares?
But tonight was something else.
My first day back in Uni, we go for a night out - standard. But in this one pub, everywhere I looked there was someone trying to chat me up. Some were very persistent. They were all at least a little drunk, one was high as well as drunk. They would not leave me alone. I have never missed my boyfriend as much as I have tonight.

But it made me feel awful. Like I didn’t want to be pretty any more. I could feel eyes on me, people asking for my number, all sorts. I couldn’t handle it. I wasn’t even that dressed up. It made me resent being attractive & now feel like punishing myself is the sensible option.

If I were horribly ugly and deformed, I’d have people staring in horror & mocking me, calling me a freak. That would be the price I’d pay for being deformed.
But pretty people have a price to pay too. If you don’t know what that is, read this post again.

Stupid fucking body.

I was starving 5 minutes ago.

Go downstairs to get food.

Come back upstairs, can’t even LOOK at the food for more than 5 seconds.

Resistance is futile.

Well that lasted long. Back to day 0 on the cutting front. Yay me…

Fuck this shit

My Christmas…

… Has sucked, if I’m honest with you. And not because of my presents - they’ve all been great. Not because of my family - they’ve done nothing wrong.

No.

It’s because I’m a fucking great big moron with a messed up head.

Going back to Christmas Eve (early hours of Christmas Morning - tomato, tomahto), trying to get to sleep, I felt the underlying rumble. That urge to find some clean razors & give a bit of release. It went around for a bit, then I just fell asleep.

This morning I didn’t want to get out of bed. I literally had to drag myself downstairs to go & open my presents - not like me at all. Even though I loved my presents, I was outwardly a little indifferent.

Then I spent the whole day/night with family. Everything was an inconvenience. I just wanted to sit up in my room & do nothing. Everything seemed to be solved by “just fuck off”

Now I’m sat crying & dying to give in to the razor’s bite.

Fucking hate this bullshit.

An update! *Que dramatic music*

Yes, I’m back! What of it??

Well, I stayed SI - free over the summer which was great :)

However, I got highly stressed one particular night going back to Uni this year and relapsed once.
And yet, I felt no shame. No remorse. I felt it was entirely justified & I still stand by that. It was just a high number of shallow cuts & one slightly deeper one.

But then, on the flip side… PROGRESS!!

Snce all the scars, the only way I’ll go swimming is with board shorts over the top.
BUT! Last week, I took the board shorts off to be in just a bikini & walked around the pool & swam & used the sauna as such. Was so fucking proud of myself & I actually can’t wait to do it again.

I am still here!

Hi guys! Some of my real-life friends who follow this blog have asked why there have been no recent posts. Well, there are many reasons:
I was working over the summer with little time for interwebz, I spent a fair bit of this Semester without Internet in the house & it got a little forgotten. HOWEVER! I’m gonna try & get back into the swing of things from Monday onwards :) xxx
Love to all. Keep fighting!

~ Orange Diaries xXx

Coming to terms with Dad

I’m finally breaking away from whatever shambles of a relationship Dad & I had. I should feel excellently liberated, but instead I feel quite oddly uneasy. I’m 3 months clean & my will is being challenged somewhat.

“I became a highwayman, was daylight robbery, I was no prince charming, nothing dandy about me!”

camelotgirl92: