Killer Kandy

F*ck Up

***Viewer discretion advised: there will be a lot of cussing and profanities due to my poor eating choices, if you happen to have a problem with that, please leave before I get to roasting myself for being a dumb idiot.

Okay, so I'm not going to lie, this whole day has been pretty crappy.

Because I ate complete shit, not including the fact that I overate and stuffed myself to the brim, I consumed a whole damn pint of chocolate ice cream.

And I fucking hate myself for it. I hate it so much. And I've realized I really eat terrible when I'm in complete and utter boredom. I just get lazy and see eating as an outlet for all the stupid fucking free time I have on my hands when I could be doing plenty of other much more productive things in my life such as drawing, running, reading, and a whole lot more.

That's not even the worse part about the whole situation. The worst part, is that I blame my parents for my seriously poor decision to eat in such an unhealthy manner. I try and deflect to protect myself from the unfortunate fact that I am my own worst enemy, and my own worst critic. And even when eating that ice cream it tasted like crap even though it was expensive.

My Dad told me today, " You have a lot of good intentions, and that's a great start, but only you can actually make a change to help yourself." Then being the dad he is he added, " I mean I could make you do it, and force you into it, but that'd be... er... cruel."

My Dad is the fucking best.

But as I digress, I make a lot of unnecessary mistakes, and take a lot of missteps, but that's just part of life, right? Wrong.

It's okay for the first time around, but when it becomes a habitual excuse for you inability to make changes, for your own well-being, there's absolutely no excuse. It's just you holding yourself back and telling yourself everything will be okay when it actually never was okay in the first place.

I just recently went to go see the memoir film, The Glass Castle, and besides all the minor inaccuracies that made me want to chuck popcorn at the movie screen, it was a pretty decent flick. But the part that really just stuck with me is the part where all the Walls kids are crowded around a bed looking at all the stories and journal entries their father wrote while in Welsh. There was one that was like, "it's hard to breathe when you're sinking in shit".

And thinking about it now, that sounds a whole lot like me. Except it's my own shit that I corse myself into thinking it'll be fine, but slowly and surely I'm suffocating under my own mental blocks and barriers.

Over the course of this chronology I've moved quite far away from documenting what I eat on a daily basis, and since I've finally decided to make a serious effort on getting healthy and stop hindering myself from reaching for the stars, I'll be sure from tomorrow on to record all I eat throughout the day in both calorie count and images so you get an idea of what I eat in order to lose all this fucking fat and finally feel okay with my body and how I treat it.

I never tried to convince myself that this experience would be easy, and for good reason, because anything that has to do with what I eat, how I eat, how much I weigh, what times I eat really sparks anxiety in me.

I hate judgement and hate, but I hate myself, see how ironic that is? Haha, I'm actually such a scrub. But when that judgement and glaring opinions from others come straight toward my direction I become a feeble little fawn. And I fucking hate it. I do. And I need to change that along with many other aspects of my life.

Now, I've just situated my addiction with my iPhone for practically pulling the plug on the whole damn thing, which, you know is one way to do it... cold turkey. But I've such resorted to television to get in my daily 3-5 hours of screen time. And I need to just figure out a way to channel all the extra time I have into other activities and hobbies that need tender loving care.

I like reading, but I dread actually opening a book.

I like drawing, but get easily annoyed if I don't do it right the very first time around.

I like the idea of crocheting, but I'm not keen on learning how to do it.

I like writing, but get either too tired or have crappy writer's block for like 30 minute intervals.

See, I'm made up of both equally good intention, leveled out with equally inexcusable barriers in which I have a hard time breaking.

I'm a teenager that is broke, has too much time, and little motivation. But isn't that how everyone starts? They start from one place which that are too proud to admit to anyone or even themselves, but then with consistent time and massive effort, they start getting somewhere, start doing something with their lives, start feeling like they are actually living, not just existing.

I'm an undeniable mess that needs a whole lot of cleaning up, but all I need is a broom and a dustpan and I can get started on sweeping up all the broken pieces in order to make a masterpiece. A masterpiece called me.

Love you forevermore,

P.S. Ya gotta keep you head up, ohhhhh, never let your head down, yeaaaah... -A.G.