Being happy is better than being sad

Happiness is a choice. I know some of you might not believe me, but with the last two years of my life finally under my belt, finally processed and stripped for meaning, I can honestly say that I choose to be happy, no matter what happens to me, around me, or because of me.

I'm just as committed to starving as I ever was, but it's for a sense of purity, not necessarily because I don't feel like I have any other options. It finally doesn't matter. You have no idea how long it's taken me to say those words out of peace, not in anger or desperation. It doesn't matter. It does not matter, I do not care.

It's like I've found this hidden ability, this new super power that I had all along. It just took a lot of humility to finally release it. I'm doing this for me, not because I feel like I have to, or because I think it will magically make my life better. I'm doing this because I want to do it for me.

Crave

I've been back in my home town for the last two weeks. Going back was a mistake. I can never seem to remember that I always leaving feeling worse than I did when I got there. I ate too much, like I always do at my Dad's house. I stayed out every night. I drank too much. I don't even like alcohol. I slept from nine in the morning until three in the afternoon every day. On account of all this, I'm looking even more tired now than I did before. But I'm proud of how my arms look right now, even if I've been slacking on my work outs. I'm also happy to report that I'm no longer an almost-A-cup. I'm an A-cup. I feel like I can see the difference between this photo and the last few I posted, especially in my face. Let me know. Click on the "photo" tag for comparison's sake.

[Photo Deleted due to Formatting]

I'm sort of happy to report that I didn't smoke much there. It's no fun without a partner, and Becka didn't come back with me this time. The only reason I brought it back was for Luke, and I didn't use with him. I used on the ride back home, but that's only because it's hard driving through four states by yourself without falling asleep. I could have made the whole trip in one shot, but that would have looked suspicious. I don't crave it like I used to, anyway. I don't crave anything, except maybe sleep.

Oh, and I finally had sex again. First time in two years. Someone new. But more on that later.

Lately, I've been texting more often with a girl I met on Red Bracelet Project (if you haven't been there, check it out). She's my age, height, about ten pounds lighter, and miraculously, a mother of an infant, but aside from that minor difference, we have similar behaviours. She's really motivational. Her name is Adrienne.

I care less now about my life than I think I ever have before. When I said goodbye to my parents before driving the 20 hours back here, I really meant for it to be the last time. I can't think two days into the future, let alone three months or a year or five years. I just can't see anything. I'm officially committed to starving now, more than ever.