Skinny Bitch Be Gone

Don't do the math. Don't do the math.
I don't want to know. I can't know.
Fuck todays fucking binge.
Started at 7am and it's now 9pm.... non-stop.
Fuck. Fatty, fatty, fuck.

ED's Making Himself Welcome

I have huge issues with bulimia, a brief stint with anorexia, but mostly I am just a fat fuck who has no self control and has to purge to not be morbidly obese.

Well I got pretty serious about my diet a few months ago. I was planning on going to my friends wedding in January and knew that I needed to drop a few kilos to be able to even show my face.
Yes, I have been dieting for over a year. Yes, I know that I write heaps of ed related posts. For the majority of the time those strong thoughts only last for a week or two before fucking Mia jumps back in and I become a fat fuck again.

But this feels different. I don't know how to explain it, but I am starting to freak out. I have successfully lost 7kg now and according to my initial goal I only have 1kg to go. I'm not even at my goal yet, but I think even the idea that I might actually reach a weight goal has freaked me the fuck out. I instantly changed my goal to a total of 10kg lost. Fucking huge red flag there.

I'm also becoming a vain prick. I'm always body checking and have to weigh myself every hour or so. That's fucking stupid. I don't need to do that. But I can't bloody stop.
I was on a motorbike today and all I could do was stare at my legs refection in the windows we drove by. I had to see if I looked skinny. Would other people that saw me driving by think I was skinny?
What does it matter? I don't know them. I don't care about them. But I need for them to think that I am skinny? What the fuck?

I've also started fainting again. I'm not thin enough for that to be the cause, but I think I have been over stressing my body and dehydrating myself. It fucking sucks. I can't stop.

There is nothing better than the high I get when I see the numbers drop, but that moment only lasts for 5 minutes tops. I then feel like shit for the rest of the day.

The voices are back in my head. That static noise constantly reminding me that I'm not there yet. That I have to work harder. That at some point I will be happy…. Deep down I know that I will never be happy. The idea of being happy with my body just doesn't seem realistic.

I just can't…. Fucking hell ED, I need you and I fucking hate you.

Walking to work when the laxatives kick in...

I'm a Bit Shit.

So it turns out that as soon as interesting things actually happen, I fuck off blogging.
Go figure…
So we are going to work on this, allegedly.
I'm going to spam this page with too many posts in the next few days and then probably fuck off again.

I find that writing my thoughts and feelings down, really helps me to process them. It allows me to go back and read over it with a new perspective and evaluate the authenticity of my opinions.

Anywho. I'm a bit shit, but I'm working on it.

Mum's On A Diet

My mother has recently been diagnosed with hypothyroidism, I was diagnosed with hyperthyroid graves disease a few years earlier. Since finding out she has decided to diligently watch and track all her food and excercise.
I'm really happy that she has decided to be so healthy, I even showed her my favourite food tracking apps. But she is getting obsessive about it. She tracks everything, bought a fitbit, and is constantly checking her stats throughout the day. I want to support her but I'm actually jealous.
She's my mother. She's 50. She's had 4 kids. And right now she is healthier than I am.
I still weigh 10kg less than her, but I know she is going to get skinny soon and I don't know if I can handle the idea of my own mother being better than I am.
I know that makes me a horrible person. I know.

Not so fucking awesome

Yeah so I suck at teaching. I get all the lesson plans correct. I do everything right. I try so hard. But I still just hate working with children. Seriously. 

Hill Tribe Hangs

You know what sounds like a great idea?
Going up to the mountains with 29 10th grade students for 5 days.
It's a bloody dream come true.. Right... Right?

I joke. It wasn't that bad. The 4 hour ride, squished between the door and a guitar, was made even better by the 10 roasted chickens that were placed under my knee.
Total perk of being the bosses daughter is knowing that if there is no more room in the car, I get to sit in the boot! Hells yeah. Aside from not having any feeling from my waist down, it was a decent trip.

We spent a night with an old friend of mine in the Karen village. I actively avoided these places growing up. I hated that I lived in Thailand and refused to join these trips. Now I hate myself for not going more often.

It's seriously beautiful there. Sleeping on wooden floors, waking up to the animal noises. It's actually amazing.

The kids wern't quite as happy. They thought that they were roughing it back in the hotel in HangDong. Then they realised that they needed to shower with a bucket of cold water. The horror. Even better was the realisation that the only bathroom was a good old fashioned squatty potty... Tears were shed.

Unfortunatly, roughly 16 hours in to said trip, I became ill. I'm not talking sniffles. I'm talking things spewing out of all ends. I'm talking about passing out every time I had to stand up. So I got sent home early. Yay?

Sick of it.

I'm so sick of anxiety.
I'm so sick of depression.
I'm so sick of bulimia.
I'm so sick of hurting.
I'm so sick of binging.
I'm so sick of being crazy.

Alti Coffee Rant

Nope, nope, nope.
My wonderful coffee haven has failed me.
I think I need a minute......

Located just across the road from my humble couch dwelling, is a small coffee roasters.
This place has saved my life. Every time I come here I have had a perfect coffee. I mean perfect. There may have been tears involved as I drank said coffee.
A little Thai man, with adult braces, makes the god damn best coffee in town. I would defiantly say that I have a coffee crush on him. There have been dreams about him. I am not proud of this fact, but it's true.

Here's where the horrible part comes in. The last three times I have come here, he has been missing. No worries, it's a good establishment. I'm sure the replacement Batista has been adequately trained. Right?
Wrong.
Frothy milk. Over heated. No crema on top.... Just....Just why?
I trusted you!! I loved you.
Alti Coffee, why would you do this to me!?

I can't hate on the poor woman too much. In comparison to other coffees I have had in ChiangMai, she is still in the top 10 Batista's. Hell, I made worse coffees when I first started out on my journey.
But why do you have to be so bad in comparison to my adult braces man? I am so tempted to jump behind the machine right now and offer some lessons. Just a few hours to get her up to par. All I want is that perfectly roasted coffee (Yes adult braces man also roasts all the beans here) perfectly silky milk, and perfect espresso shot.

So here I sit, broken hearted. Wanting coffee, but you departed.
Farewell my love.

Back to Melbourne?

Ash had a horrible day at work. I'm yet to learn all the details, but from what I can gather, he is done with Thailand.
Is it wrong that I'm excited about this? I mean of course I'm upset that he's had a shitty day. However, if he is pushed too far, then I really believe he will break his teaching contract. Once that's done, it's back to sweet sweet Australia for me.
I love Thailand. I love living with my parents. I love spending all this time with Ash. I love not having to give a fuck in the world. At the same time... I'm ready. It's nearly time to go home.
I miss the hospo life.
I miss the thrill of looking up at a 45 minute coffee line up and knowing I can smash that shit out.
I miss the comradery of all the staff after a shitty shift.

As shitty of a girlfriend as it makes me, I kinda hope he quits.
I can't wait to show him my beautiful Melbourne. I want to show him the cafes and the night life. I want to show him the beaches and the city. I want him to see why I love Melbourne so much.

Fingers crossed, I'll be home by 2016.

Unemployment Thrift Shop

Walk into the club like what up I got a job

I’m so pumped up from this pay check from the boss

Ice in the fridge, so damn frosty

I can afford to pay the electricity 

Rollin in hella deep, pretending I know how to think

Dressed in all black, ‘cept my supplied shirt, that’s pink

Draped in superiority, to hide the anxiety in me

Probably shouldn’t do this, because we know about my ability

PISS

But shit, it pays the rent.

I be popping it, rocking it

‘bout to rock up with some confidence,

Passing up on that sleep in, unemployment got me with

Early mornings, fuck it, man

I’m setting alarms and

making money and I’m hella happy that’s a bargain bitch

I’ma take that pay check now, I’ma take that pay check now, 

No for reals ask that chick, can I get a pay slip

I’m going to teach that class

No experience on my docket

I I I’m hunting

Looking for a lesson

This is fucking awesome

What I know about teaching a class

What do I know about writting a lesson plan

I’m digging, I’m digging, 

Onto google search

One more link, going to learn to teach some verbs.

Your mima you mammy your aunty your aunty

I’ll show you pronouns as I rock this mother fucker

Learn conjunctions as I rock this mother fucker

Throw in some similies to throw them mother fuckers

There like yo Lizzy that’s hella tight

I’m like that’s 250 for an hour

Twenty One

I guess I am now officially an adult. Ha.
Let's hope that no one expects that from me. This hospo girl is not ready to be a full grown adult yet.
I think this was proven by the way I managed to munt all over myself on the fateful birthday night.
Classy.
Ash flew me down to Bangkok and we hit the town. I may have danced on a stage at some point. It's still up for debate.
Unfortunately he stumbled across the fact that I am bulimic, via my travel notebook. Of course he doesn't understand or accept it. To be fair, he is one of those people that don't believe in therapy. In my experience people who don't believe in therapy at all, typically don't have a good understanding of any mental disorder. So we are going to have a one off chat about it at a time that he feels comfortable talking. Yeah. That will be fun.

BACK TO BIRTHDAYNESS.
I have a history of shitty birthdays. Like seriously. My 21st was beautiful. I danced. I traveled. I met some sick bitches. It was great. It was 21st worthy.

I Miss My Crazy Family.

I love you Dryburgh Royals.
I miss you more than I care to admit.

Sunday Morning

Can someone please explain to me the difference between "making love" and "slow Sunday morning fucking" because apparently I have had both this morning and I only know this because he pointed it out to me.
I've learnt that when I'm getting rammed really hard from behind, that's just fucking. So I figured if it was slow sex then the chances of it being "making love" were much higher.
But I don't feel any sort of emotion when I have sex, other than bliss and hopefully an orgasm. Am I supposed to be moved to tears with an overwhelming feeling of love? I don't feel love in sex. That's not why I have sex.
So can someone please clue me into this whole "making love" nonsense? I just don't get it.

The Bitch is Back

Made it safe and sound back to Chiang Mai.
*Insert angel chorus here*

May I just state for the record that I really, seriously, desperately, hate flying.
Whenever I tell people this, they automatically assume that I am afraid of heights or afraid of crashing. I have no fear. I mean really, I feel like dying in an airplane crash would be creeping towards the top of my "best way to go" list. It's dramatic, adrenaline filled, and a hell of a day for the coroner.
I fucking hate flying because I am stuck next to fuckwits for hours on end with no other source of entertainment.
The first flight from Sapporo was pretty empty, so I managed to avoid the awkward neighbours drooling on my shoulder by stealing myself a solo row. My flight from Bangkok to Chiang Mai... Not so much.
As we took off from the runway I saw the man sitting in the row beside me (we were both in aisle seats) start to shake. I dismissed this as a simple first time flier and figured as soon as we were comfortably in the air he would calm down. I was wrong. Oh lord I was so wrong.
Before the seat belt sign was off, there was vomit. So so much vomit. He was shaking and spraying as the rest of the passengers scrambled to rip open their own vomit bags and pass them down in some sort of vain attempt to salvage the mess that was already made. A few of us needed to use the bags ourselves, because the best way to induce vomiting in a healthy person is making them watch someone else vomit.
Now I do feel sorry for the guy, despite ruining a few hours of my life and leaving me with some sort of PTSD, at the same time there needs to be recognition for this man. Non stop projectile vomiting for over an hour!? How does one even have that much inside their stomach to achieve this fete?
Colour me impressed, and colour me traumatised.
All in all though, I'm just happy to be back in my warm Chiang Mai.

Airport Thoughts.

I'm sitting in the airport, waiting for them to call for boarding, and all the flight crew are just chilling in the lounge with us.
I don't know why it is so uncomfortable to see a pilot chilling. All like "Hey I'm about to hold your life in in my hands and I maneuver a giant metal tube through the sky, but first let me take a selfie."
Yeaaaah.

Return Warranty on Children?

May have chosen to go see Ash three days early, rather than spend time with my parents.
I'm a pretty shit excuse for a daughter.
Is there some sort of 20 year return warranty?

Mindless Mumbling

I come home to you. 

The best friend I have ever known.

You sit in the dark, on your pedestal

Just waiting. Just waiting.

Warm me up with my devotion

Feel inside me with your sweet and bitterness

The world matters no more.

You are mine, I regret that I am yours.

Forget, forget, never forgive

But tonight we will forget.

Celebrations and pain

It doesn’t matter which one.

Fill me up. 

Control me.

Become me.

I will taste you on my lips

Tingle in my fingers

Vision blurs

Heart thumping

Numb

Oh sweet sweet nectar 

Saturate my throat

Never let others know

Dizzy 

Spinning

Goodnight my friend

I will regret you in the harshness of the sun

But tonight we lived.

Somewhat Grateful?

3 more days until this Japan trip is over.

I know I've been a bitch about the whole thing, but despite the lack of emotional connections with the land and with the people, I do feel like I have enjoyed my time here. Yeah I want to go back home. Yeah I want to see Ash. Yeah I want to get on top of my job hunting. But it's been nice being in such a different environment. I haven't had a single drink since I've been here. I haven't smoked any weed. I haven't done anything wild or crazy. All I've done is read my book, bake desserts, talk, and walk. And you know what? It's been fabulous. My holiday from my holiday has been just the thing I needed to give me a pick me up. 

Japan Hath Failed Me

Japan is amazing with its crazy machines and robots. Who doesn't love a self-flushing toilet with a heated seat? And vending machines for beer in the hotel lobby, um yes please. But I swear to god, if I don't find a cafe that makes coffee from an actual espresso machine I will kill someone. Putting a cup in a holder and pressing a button for a latte is not worth $4 or the destruction of my tastebuds. ChiangMai, you're still shit, but please take me back.

Mother Fucking Ashleigh

So few posts, so much mush of emotions. So hey, why not one more.

I'm going to talk about Ash. God damn, mother fucking Ashleigh.

Here's the deal. I miss him. I fucking miss the guy. It's only been 5 days away from the bastard, yet I think he is the number one topic of conversation since I left.

So I'm scared shitless. He's from a broken home so I know I am supposed to be stable and show him that I am not going to randomly leave, but I am fighting this urge to cut all ties out of complete fear. How on earth do I rationalise this fear? Oh hey, there is this guy who understands you, respects you, and treats you like an equal. Bitch, run for your life. I mean surely there is something wrong with someone who wants me right?

I'm fat, ugly, dumb, sadistic, sarcastic, needy, and the list goes on and on.

I told him "I think I might maybe love you." and then that night I mentally went through my checklist of how many steps it would take to break all ties with him. I want him. I want to run away from him. All I know is everything comes back to him.

I'm not ready for this. I didn't plan on this. My "self discovery" trip to Thailand was only meant to be a quick three month trip. Time out of my life. Time away from emotional connections with people. Time for just me.

Two fucking weeks in, I met this kid. Charming, charismatic, and just as bitter as me. I tried to keep it casual, I tried not to feel. This is normally my fucking expertise. I am brilliant at not getting attached to people. It's normally a very conscious choice for me. I remember the exact moment I saw Ash one day and melted. All I knew was from that point on I needed him with me. I needed him in my life. I needed to be his, and he needed to be mine.

Now old independent me is trying to plan my life around someone else. I still have dreams. My ambitions haven't changed. I just need him there with me. And that knowledge itself is enough to make me pack my bags and never look back. I think I might, maybe love him.

Emotionless Bitch Update

Day 4 in Japan and I find myself in a weird emotional spot.
I kind of desperately want to go home. I mean come on. I'm 20 years old and in fucking Japan for a holiday from my current extended holiday in Thailand. I should be kissing the very ground I walk on. Broke ass me is seeing the world.
Yet I just can't seem to feel any emotion about this trip. I'm still mentally calling my sister-in-law "foetus carrier" and I feel no emotional connection with my brother. It's awesome seeing him and all, but to be brutally honest I don't miss him when he's not around. I don't miss anyone when they are not around.
I just hate the whole waiting for a trip to end feeling. It's considered normal to have all sorts of emotions when it comes to family and traveling, but I don't feel anything. I won't miss them when I am gone. That makes me a horrible person I know, but it's the truth. I love them, but I won't miss them.
Anywho, 5 more days of couch surfing here until I go back to my usual life of couch surfing.

Different Continent, Same Problem

It’s dark, I’m hungry, fetus carrier is taking a nap. 

I could go walk and grab some food, but she will be up soon enough and want to go get dinner. Of course I will be too embarrassed to say that I have eaten already, and will inevitably go out for a second dinner with her. Maybe I should learn some fucking self control. Hmm, probably a good idea.

Oh well, squats time I guess.

Fatty out.

Japan

Ah hello there Japan. Long time no see. 

It’s been two years since you popped my cherry and now here we are, embraced in your frosty finger tips.

Last time I was here was different, to say the least. The first of the Perry siblings getting hitched. All of the clan gathered in this strange country to try and celebrate with strangers. Yeah. That was a weird experience. 

I remember getting shit faced drunk around my super religious family. Ah good times. Nothing quite like seeing bitter dissapointment slapped across your parents face. 

Now I’m here to see my pregnant sister-in-law, and my niece or nephew fetus. I’m only here for ten days, so hopefully I don’t step on too many toes, but I am Lizzy. So yeah, I wouldn’t count on it. 

On a shitty note for this trip, I don’t have a fucking phone or a camera. So no photos unfortunatly. If I am lucky I might be able to steal some off these tec savy kids. I think I had been in the country for maybe three minutes before selfies had to be taken. I’ll never quite understand that. I feel like I missed some sort of selfie class or something.

It’s really hard to watch what I eat here. Even the 7/11 has such amazing food. I’m going to try and walk a lot to counteract some of the damage, but I think there will be some serious restricting in order when I get back to ChiangMai. I already put those wheels into motion before coming here by having a chat with mother dearest about how I was struggling with binging, and wanting to go on a meal plan when I get back. I find it so much easier to lose weight when I am on my parents meal plans. They are hardly ever in town, so they don’t even know what I eat. The basic rule of thumb is to half their pre planned portion sizes, and then purge up the rest. Normally works pretty well for me. I know, I know, I am unhealthy as fuck. But I’d rather die young and thin, than old and fat. 

A Letter to my Lover

Dear Chiang mai. Look, we've been doing this whole "on again off again" thing for years. I say hurtful things, you ask me to move out, you give me cheep clothes and good food, I move back in. 

Let's not kid ourselves, we both love this emotional game we keep playing. We understand each other. You know to behave and be nice when my parents are around, but you also get so naughty when it's just you and me at night. It's a great mutual understanding, and all in all I think that we would both agree the good from our relationship out weights the bad. 

So it's with a heavy heart that I have to address our current problem. I tried to bite my tounge. I tried to look the other way. I'm sorry, I can't keep quiet anymore. 

Chiangmai. Your coffee is shit. Like seriously. You have some amazing beans and so much potential. But it's like you just stopped trying after that point. 

I'd give the whole "it's not you, it's me" speech, but let's not kid ourselves here. Your coffee is shit and I don't know if I can look past that anymore. 

xx Your caffeine deprived lover. 

Chiang Mai Life

Lazy days, loud music, good books. Chiang Mai, you are beautiful. Don't let any of those tourists tell you otherwise.

The First Girl

She's getting married. Married. 

The big 'M' word. The one that makes me nauseous and giddy at the same time. 

The first one of the group. Back in high school it was almost a race. Who could snag the right one first. 

Don't get me wrong, this guy's amazing. He has the sexiest accent I have ever heard. His big lips, and deep eyes will draw anyone in as he sings with his raspy voice and acoustic guitar. She smiles when she thinks of him, she always has. He will keep her truly happy. I know this. 

So why does this pit in my stomach feel like it is growing by the second?

I remember back to those lazy school nights. Sitting on her bed as she edited her latest photos. Painting our nails, and discovering new Pinterest boards. I remember her short red hair, pulled up in a messy bun, with wisps gently framing her face. It was like the bastard humidity had no effect on her. 

Every day after school we would go hunting for a new coffee shop, determined to find a better roast than yesterdays. We would sip our lattes and talk about our boyfriends. At the time we were both in long distance relationships, and used each other for companionship. Now she's marrying hers, and I'm left trying to understand why that hurts.

Playful children, dancing in our undies, showering together, skinny dipping. God I saw that girl naked so many times. None of it was ever sexual though. I never felt sexual in those moments. But it's because of those moments that I can never tell her about my perversions. I would forever tarnish those memories for her. Her religious mind would only see me as a sick freak who manipulated her to see her and all her friends naked. I didn't. It wasn't like that. But I did love her. 

God did I love her. 

The hours I spent praying away my sins each Sunday. Trying to cleanse myself of these impure feelings. Only to see her again on Monday, and fall all over again. 

And now she's getting married. 

I will be there for the big day. I will put on my best dress and smile. I will watch her say her vows. And I will dance with the first girl I ever loved.

This Little Piggy

This little piggy failed.
I got down to 55.5 (4.5 kg down, yay!)
Then I went on a huge binge week and slowly felt my thighs touching again.
There is nothing worse than that just-out-of-the-shower-thighs-rubbing disgusting pain.
I gained over a kilo in a week and have only been back on track for a few days.

But look, collar bones!