First, I will give an explanation of this "annoyed look". My brother and sister are idiots. They don't know how to install Ragnarok Online. Sheesh. After spending all day downloading the zip file... I came and saved the day. I have been dubbed a genius. We hope though, that I was a genius all along. Maybe.
Actually, I might scrap There and replace it with RO on my computer. I'll have to watch my siblings when they play it, and see if it interests me.
But I didn't come to talk about RO. I came to announce the temporary return of uncensored Megan. Just for a few days. I am suddenly without fear of speaking entirely freely during a very short period of seperation and silence from someone. Since he won't be contacting me (maybe not even reading my diary?), I am not afraid of speaking of whatever I like because I don't have to worry about direct replies.
Whoa. Honesty already. When I feel slightly removed from my audience, when I feel an untouchable, uncrossable barrier which keeps them from approaching me, I am not afraid of speaking freely. When that barrier is gone, and they may touch and interact, I fear the touch, I fear the whispers, I fear. Much. I feel bold and without fear now, knowing a flimsy modicum of safety seperates me from them. From him. And I fear that I take this short seperation, to hastily gather up everything I can thing of, to rebuild the slight barrier that's been torn down.
And it makes me feel like such a hypocrite. For a moment, my hands slow and I blankly stare down at the work I've begun.
And I begin to wonder. Shall I repent of this work I have begun?
When the time comes I suppose I shall and must. For now, I feel no obligation to think on it. I choose to ignore for now, and dwell on what sits directly before me.
And what does? My violent loss of appetite and quickly dwindling weight.
I pick at my meals in an abstract manner and swallow a few scant mouthfuls until I push it aside and dump it to the garbage. My appetite is too slim. It will not accept hardly any food. Sometimes I am hungry, but not really often.
But then, I pass my mirror. I stop and stare back at the pale figure calling back to me. She is quickly thinning. Her ribs and hip bones begin to jut out unattractively. I encircle my arm with my hand and wince painfully at the disturbingly apparent lack of anything but bone and scant amounts of necessary muscle. My hand moves down and grasps the hemp bracelet I wear, which used to be tied too tightly and almost too small, which is now rather too large for my wrist. I disgustedly toss the bracelet on my wrist and my hands travel to my legs. I pinch at my jeans and grasp the extra half inch of fabric in each pant leg and remember the time when these jeans were skin tight on my legs. I can hardly believe it.
I am slowly wasting away. I feed myself just enough to sustain life, but if I go on in this manner, how much longer?
I don't want to die. I am not trying to starve myself. I don't and haven't ever thought myself too fat. I am not trying to lose weight. I simply can't eat. My appetite is never there, the motivation to eat is never there, my mood cannot allow it. But I don't want to tell anyone about this. I can conquer this on my own. I must force myself to eat. I must go through the weary task of nourishing myself thoroughly every day. I don't have the heart to, but I am going to. Because I don't want to die. I don't want to waste away. And I don't want anyone to know that anything is wrong.
Beyond this, I fear that current situations have made me lose my trains of contemplation. Completely. I have no idea what was so pressing which I had been turning over, and honestly, I don't think I have any desire to recover anything. I am just going to move past it, onto other things.