my gnosis quest

I'm searching for answers. I'm on a quest for perfection and for truth. For beauty. For sanity. For the light at the end of the tunnel. This is my struggle for knowledge and identity.

31.7.06

continuity to the last entry, because of a comment

It bothers me because I consider both to be equally self-destructive and harmful behaviours, yet one is deemed less so by society even though it's much more costly and damaging over the long term.
It's self-abuse that's socially acceptable and it shouldn't be.
Likewise, it's okay by society's terms to drink yourself into toxicity and go to the ER to get your stomach pumped for a night of "fun" or because your boyfriend dumped you, but if your boyfriend dumps you and you cut yourself, all of a sudden, that's what's "sick". Never mind the alcohol poisoning is deadlier. A scratch on the skin, or burn, or whatever, is somehow much more "sick" than blotting out your memory completely through a bottle and burning a hole through your liver. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

And while I'm certain I'm probably a bit skewed, since I do have body-issue problems and self-esteem issues, do cut, and probably would have an eating disorder if I told my shrink and therapist the extent of some of my thoughts, and am diagnosed as being literally crazy, what with the bipolar and all, I also know that a) I am smart, and b) when I have explained this to my therapist, and friends, they said this made sense, and since I've yet to have a nervous breakdown that made me have to quit school entirely or fail in college, and still make the dean's list, I'm pretty sure I'm still coherent even with the tendency to soapbox.

And at any rate, I like ranting, it's fun. ^.^

But that doesn't mean I feel any less passionate about it.



I'm giving myself a complex again, what with Rush coming up again, and omg I do not want to deal with the pressure of that. It makes me want to quit the sorority every year. Thinking about it makes me incredibly anxious. I wish I had one of those shrinks who just doled out Rxs like children's Flinstones vitamins, and I could just pop Paxil like gumballs and zone out like a Barbie doll and float through uncomfortable things like Rush. I'm so glad our clothes are better this year. That will be an immense help. It'll be fine, I know it will be....so why do I feel like I need to go buy cigarettes now or breathe into a paper bag?????
But oh god the stress. Nails have to be perfect, feet have to be perfect, no tan lines, hair perfect, on and on. AND SMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE like a pathological Barbie doll. Really, though, it's good fucking practice. I need to smile more. At least it's only going to be 3 days, I am not important this year, and I just get to run around and hurt my feet in heels and live on caffeine and diet soda and this year cigarettes and coffee and protein shakes. I hope I lose more than 8lbs. I lost that last year with perfection week and then Rush. I hope we get good girls too.

God, I have to call my brother and get that stylist's #.

I saw The Ant Bully yesterday in 3D with my brother and Pullip, who worked on animating it. A lot of her coworkers from DNA were there too, and I heard it got critiqued for being communist. Isn't that ridiculous? THEY'RE ANTS. OF COURSE THEY'RE MARXIST.

I went to Target today and got stuff for my room. Bulletin board, dry erase board with clock, The Devil Wears Prada, Choxie, and 2 adorable hoodies from their designer lines and a Marylin shirt. The designers lines they have in are AWESOME. OMG, if they keep these coming, screw Nordstroms (except the Rack) and i'll just come here for everything. They were so cute and very cheap.

I have to go back to school Wednesday to see my therapist, and my mother is going to try to come with me, although I've convinced her not to try and clean my room, and that 21 is damn well old enough to clean and organize my room without her. Not to mention it just stresses me the fuck out.


The Devil wears prada book is excellent, and so was the movie, but they make me feel awful for not being a size four. or weighing less than 110.



Like i said, complex.



life is complex.


ha.


That's okay, I've got a good enough excuse anyway for tomorrow from Sir.

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