Just a journal. It's intended only for myself because my own website is more private than a physical notebook which my family could (and most likely would) look through. I most likely have an eating disorder and calorie count here, so please don't read if you're sensitive to that.
Fuck this, I'm ending it. Try telling your mother you've been miserable for years just to be told "it's puberty". Fuck you, if the only thing which will get you to take my mental health seriously is me self harming you don't deserve to know that I do. It always takes something physical to get people to care. Fuck this bitch.
I went to the city centre today and bought a Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge CD for only £5. I'd like to own more CDs, I dislike having to use Spotify or other apps for music.
I tried to muster up a slight amount of energy today and managed to do a quick drawing of a biblically accurate seraphim.
I think my mother believes that I'm not fine mentally. She wouldn't be wrong at all, but it's somewhat shocking because I have been like this for years and each time I've mentioned it I've just been took to be tested for anemia and after finding that I'm fine physically, my parents don't care. But today she told me that if something is ever wrong I should email her what's going on. I guess she realised that I struggle to talk to people and find writing easier. Either way, I doubt I will. Something about telling people about how I feel, everything which is going on in my head, and then having to constantly see them whilst they know everything sounds horrible. Idon't want to have to see someone and be reminded of all the worst things about myself.
I went food shopping today and unlike many other times, I actually managed to find a dinner for Friday (I make my own dinner on Friday). I usually struggle to find anything decent as I hate frozen pizza and American style food (burgers, fries, hotdogs, etc) and the supermarket my family go to no longer sold calamari, so for a while I was having to eat cheap, crappy instant ramen for dinner. But they actually had something I enjoy this week! I'm having scampi for dinner and I'm looking forward to it, I love seafood.
I made multiple sandwiches for this week in advance. Each one contains ham and is 264 calories.
Lethargic, unmotivated, rereading C&P and relating heavily with Raskolnikov.
I'm done with this shit. I feel like I can't do anything except lie in bed. I think my love of reading was nothing more than a hyper-fixation on books, because I just can't bring myself to read anymore. In the past, I've always had some current fixation to get me through the day, even though I was completely miserable. MCR, BSD, Serial Experiments Lain, Evangelion, Persona. I have nothing now. Fuck music fuck books fuck anime fuck videogames.
I don't want to eat anymore, fuck binge purge, I'm going back to eating nothing. I miss October-November last year, I hated it but it's better than whatever the fuck this year has been. I can't tell how many calories are in dinner and my mum wouldn't let me skip or make my own, so I'll have to purge then, but I can count for everything else. No more than 400cal a day on non-dinner food.
My mother asked me if I was drinking my father's alcohol, because she's noticed that the amount left in the bottle has slowly gone down the whole year. I tried to deny it, but I wasn't bothered to continue lying and said that I had some when I felt miserable as an attempt to cheer myself up. All I got was some rant about how fourteen is too young to have an alcohol addiction and then the mandatory "are you considering suicide or self harm?". I'm not sure why people bother asking, I'm never going to be honest. She offered to get a therapist for me and I'm not sure why, for a start we don't have the money and I don't see the appeal of talking to someone who is only around because you pay them to listen to you whine. The idea of therapists is so fucking stupid anyway. Why would you feel comfortable telling your darkest secrets to some fucking stranger who's analysing every word you say to find out what the fuck is wrong with you? I know talking to some dick profiting off of mentally ill won't do anything. Geez, people offering to send me off to one is insulting. It's their little way of saying "I know you're fucked in the head and I don't want to be the one to deal with it."
CHARLIE KIRK IS DEAD!
The hospital went decently, although I hate those white walls, dim lights and extended corridors. It feels like a map design from Resident Evil.
Tomorrow I have to go to the hospital, which I've been dreading all year.
Besides that, my parents are arguing. My dad wants to spend more time with my mum, mother wants my dad to be a better husband, I'm honestly on her side. I heard divorce being mentioned and I don't want them to split up, but for wholly selfish reasons. I'm quite fine with being homeschooled and I'd be the ultimate bullying victim if I were to be forced into public school. Oh well, like most things in my life, I have no control.
Yesterday I decided to socially transition. My parents already knew I was trans (not from my own choice to come out) but I had decided not to actually go by a different name due to the fact that I'm a coward and ashamed about my identity. But hopefully I won't hate myself as much aymore. Anyway, my parents are completely fine with it of course and when they initially found out that I was a guy they were "shocked but not surprised" and said "it was shocking of course, but it's like it confirmed something we already knew" so they said me actually just presenting as male was better. My dad told my grandma (my expanded family weren't aware) and she's also accepting and it's unfortunately made her belief that she has psychic abilities stronger because when my mum was pregnant she was convinced I was a boy.
Besides that, today my mum has been decluttering her books because she's somewhat hoarding them. She decided to give me The Great Gatsby and The Turn of The Screw as she wasn't going to read them.
JOIN THE CLIPPY MOVEMENT. Also, I've been attempting to make different types of bread recently. For example, a bread with raisins and milkbread. I may try making brioche when I can get ingredients.
Recently I've been doing nothing but organising Lego into sets (it's all mixed into one big box) so I can sell them on Ebay. Trying to find specific pieces for each set is actually trying to find needles in a haystack. It's tedious. Besides that, today I've read an essay by C.S. Lewis on how you can prove if praying works. I don't believe in prayer, but I think Lewis's view on it makes the most sense for those who do believe.
Today I've been feeling very down. I guess I do usually anyway, melancholic or empty and devoid of anything, but I'm especially miserable today. I'm not sure why.
Well, today has been a mixed bag. On one half, I managed to find Dante's Inferno and Purgatorio from Oxfam and they're very nice versions, the Oxford University Press oness. One page has the original Italian and the right page has the English translation. There are loads of notes and commentary from the translator. I also bought a cheap collection of Chekhov's short stories and found an Evangelion hoodie for £1. I get little pocket money, but I'd say I'm good at finding deals.
On the other hand, it turns out my mother has been keeping the fact that she's hundreds of pounds in-debt secret. I'm both shocked and frustrated. I became very frugal at a young age due to my family not being well-off, I was aware of money to an extreme to the point where I'm constantly worrying about it, yet my parents are so incompetent I'm the mature one. I'm a teenager, I shouldn't be the financial expert of the family. I've been told many times that I'm too mature for my age, a forty year old in the body of a child, but how is it a shock to anyone? I have to be, no one else in my family is, they may as well be eight years old.