Creative Sorority Hazing Ideas

If someone reads ...

If anyone reading this book, tell me what you think. Unaware of the author and I have not read more than the cut that hit below. Is a novel, but also has a history of bulimia. I saw this morning in a large bookstore, taking a walk downtown and see potential gifts. I do not know ... I dared not buy it, but the title (the cows of Stalin) and small photo of a thin legs were on a scale, made me suspicious.

Stalin cows, Sofi Oksanen.
Synopsis:
Three women, three generations: The Story of a Europe divided between East and West, starvation and bulimia.
Anna is not willing to believe the bad consequences of suffering from bulimia wild. What could be wrong with something that gives you a pleasure comparable to that of sex and makes you feel divine? Lost in his obsessions, need to control their destiny and will not repeat the mistakes of her mother, Katariina, who fled the Soviet Estonia to Finland and since then lives badly between paranoia and bitterness. Across the border, the grandmother of Anna, Sofia, remains as stark memory of Stalinist nonsense. Info

451 Publishers.

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"I can not" = "no quiero" Abzurdah

few weeks ago I started to think why bother us as we take the opposite with food and force us to eat (more) or to eat less, depending on the day or the case.
is discomfort that comes to make us angry, powerless mourn and cry and even irritate or insult (depending on day how bad we feel, how we say it, how much we repeat it ... a thousand things).

Here's my approach:

• may be that the idea that force us to do something that we want when we seek to alienate us from external control and establish our own we feel bad.
• may, after much insistence, we feel powerless because we are misunderstood @ s: "I do not understand", "do not know what this is," and phrases like that.
• might ask us more than we think we can, "I can not, I can not really (yes we can, only then we are presented with impossible of view)
• can also result from finished not accept to eat more or stop eating is so bad, even an unconscious idea: "no big deal," I'm not too bad, "" if, as is worse ", etc.
• and the idea that I've been stuck, because we assumed that this anomalous behavior we have with food are we @ s, we have identified with our way of being, or our desire maximum and final (the first and the ultimate reality). If you do not want to eat and force us, as if to tell us that we are unsympathetic and selfish, that may feel very sick, if we are not forcing us to eat, it's like, just left school, would like to study philology and parents want to impose our study law or medicine: the feeling that going against us. So we put on the defensive: "I can not do what I want, do not leave me in peace, overwhelm me," I can not be as I want. "

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Blunt Warp Homepage Allergiker

I just finished reading it. Abzurdah is its title, Cielo Latini, Argentina, its author. It is a heartbreaking story that is not lost, including to cry, not for what they lived but because of everything that makes you stand inside your head, because you're reading words that you say you thought or quietly when you can not more.
I leave some fragments below. The book was edited and in Spain (about time!), As you can see on your page: Abzurdah .

Yesterday, when I began to read, write this:

His sincerity seems outrageous, however, their changes of thought and personality that reminds me so much to me, are something I would not like to tell a Friends, my friend.

Now that I finished, I that the person who wrote what will remain in his person, but you have the maturity and polish endeared many things from the psychological point of view.

I can not advise reading the whole world: there are parts terrible, very strong. And I'm sure that you have read it more slowly (it took only two days, while most compulsively read), would have been a letdown for certain things that count. Now I'm like a temptation on-foot, a seesaw, a balance that is seeking the middle ground shakes. Still, some parts need to bring here.
@ Let each one feel free to read, buy the book or never do so.

Abzurdah Fragments:

is known that when one feels that things can not be better or at least is going through a stupid and life fragile balance, they tend to fall apart almost instantly. Thus, a vital rule, a stupid result of consciousness. Because maybe thinking one is being filled with fear of life and is open at the same time the bad vibes. I have the hallucination that when one is ignorant of his own happiness can keep much longer and in better condition.

always had that stuff, this obsession: writing. Write anything that suited me in mind, the things I was going. Or simply exterminating phrases: "I'm tired of this school," this thing has me sick "," I love this one, "blah, blah. The paper is conservative. The paper is not cheating you is not shit you, you let it be. No circumstance puts you face

(...).

guess that's why I always cut myself off from that way: I never had the need to communicate, because I was doing. Writing is communication, but always ended my letters hidden

(...) I decided that my friends would be mostly for convenience. I needed to surround myself with people that I used for this or company and if someone I was not going to be directly useful to a nuisance. So, who did not serve me would be dismissed. Sounds pretty handy, cold and calculating. And so I wanted to be after so many colleges and disappointments. I bragged about my decisions and I wondered who would answer that I hung out with this or that just because I needed them. But it was fiction, a lie. I am the most attached to the feelings I know. I need friends, family, loves, pets, need all that, to people who remind me who I am. (...)

a rusty nail another nail

(a chapter title)

It's great how to Over the years, people use the same words but mean entirely opposite to express

(...) I always grabbed it with my body to show people what I thought, what he felt or what I did not dare to say (as well as what he said without being heard). (...)

In one of my worst times I got to invent conversations to not feel alone. (...)

changes plans are not acceptable in my life. If we do that, make it. There is no reason to repent, there is no reason to change plans, anything is justifiable. (...)

Usually when I wake up, no I remember why I cried so much (splitting) and when I can see why, still do not understand. I can not get in my own shoes. As if the night of broken dreams I had erased all records of empathy with myself. Appears to raise the penalty reduced and even minimized. Reduced to a pile of neurons than did bad synapses. (...) My psychologist later forced me to not ignore my pain, "and you're coming, but I guess it's something resolved. With you is always the same. At one moment you are dying and the next day, as did you cover it (drown him, the feeling of sudden death), you do as if nothing had happened, ignoring the issue completely. "Nestor you're right. Always drown my feelings, my desires, my feelings, my miseries and joys. I deleted everything, forever, because time is less painful to stop feeling. Stop feeling
When I start thinking. I get sound and I answered questions without major problems. And life is like: easy, cerebral. I have, indeed, different personalities and each one of them a different group of friends. I find it hard to mix friends. At times, I am many people who differ among themselves, have different personalities and motivate incomparable things. Hard as it may sound, I know it well. (...) I am what the environment wants it, what situations do I indicate that it is better to be. Which is more convenient be. (...) What I can understand them both at the same time? In the same way as love and hate someone. So, without explanation. I mold. Not that I have strong views. Do not think that's it. (...)

We got along very well: when we write starts the week to see who started more hobbies and how long it took to leave. He bought a bike and let it roll, unused. We always do those things. We are so excited with some activities in our minds are fantastic, so much so that when the plane as we seem disconcertingly real boring. And always the same. We also bore people. I can not be with someone over a day, people get bored. Reasonable time after that need to be alone, being in my bed alone, be in the bathroom alone, or simply watching television. The company often becomes a hindrance to the passing of the hours. That is, I'm not antisocial, I do not sound like a forties single, but it is true that I need my privacy and it bothers me that people do not know when to quit. Would someone ever invented a switch that will notify people when is the exact moment they begin to be a hindrance.
do not know what it is. I always leave the bush.
(...) Ah, my personalities. I guess they were born in my need to please the world. All life I felt marginalized or fat or antisocial or because I liked books instead of the power rangers do not know. I just felt isolated. And in my need to not isolate individuals created according to each group of friends I made. I think we're all a bit like: we do not behave the same with our family with our friends or our teachers or by phone and email or who knows what other situation. I can not tell my family the same way that my friends, a boyfriend and I can not tell jokes I do with my family and at work we have to take another image. Everyone passes inventing characters, the problem is that I take them seriously and help me.

(...) Because I never want to come true, ever. Because my grand ma imagination is always more powerful and more pleasant than reality. I wish I was autistic, I wish I lived inside my mind. I would sleep forever.

(...) I can not take life less seriously, as I said a doctor. "Honey, you have to take your life less seriously" - replied when asked why he had such a headache and stomach. Somatization, is what I do to defend myself. I get angry with my body and he is my statue of sand molded to do what you feel when you want. My poor body. Poor me. (...)

Because yes, we know that I have an issue with the abandonment (and probably due to some whim of my childhood) but if something costs more than me giving up is the replacement. Strong word, if any. Being abandoned is rid of a tie, loosen your belt, feel insecure. When someone leaves me I am an orphan, lost, without land. (...)

So I ended up laughing too, without suspecting that he who laughs last laughs the worst. (...)

But just when I was single, reality slapped me as it usually

(...) So, I started to eat outrageous quantities than ever in my life thought to digest: it was fun to know that if feel bad (or at any rate) could remove the damn food in my system. Was immune to everything, nothing affected me.
(...) I started to refuse food because i was too lazy to go throw up, so at first I decided not to eat until I was much more hungry and even vomit to eat. (...)

bulimia feel that consumes me, I feel it is more than the food that leaves my body every time you vomit. I'm throwing pieces of soul. (...)

Does it matter to know what is the limit? I do not recognize it, but my mind makes a "click" that indicates danger "Or stop now or suicide is imminent." And that click is organic, I do not choose, so does my body instinctively (conservation, of course). (...)

drank water as if it were to warm the soul or reactivate my neurons: it was more hydrated and brainless person who had ever known. Let's not mindless in a derogatory manner, I mean that when you are starving (and is not a metaphor) the brain is not working properly. Irrigated blood goes to the vital organs and in priority need, like my heart had to keep beating, the blood that ran before in my brain, now was focused on my heart, which left me dumb and arrhythmia. (...)

My personal image also was changing was changing so transmitted to other mortals (because deep down I knew my mortality.) Sweet and spontaneous sky was dying and instead gave an ice sculpture sculpture mutated directives and to cancel a former branch tree. I was eating, I knew and could not stop to enjoy it. If you did not love me then I was going to die, and I'd die beautiful, smart and perfect body. Perfection was my purpose and my illness was understood as achievable;

(...) I followed by going to college and suddenly I became more demanding than ever: needed to be the best but was far from being so (lack of food caused me to stay asleep anywhere). My friends became suspicious when they repeatedly said that he had eaten "a lot!" And was pleased when at the same time was like a cloud and dark circles wearing color of coal. When you're anorexic thinks he's smart and others are all stupid, or clueless, or are not interested in one and therefore assumes that any silly excuse is valid.
What you do not know is that the diagnoses are made because there are behaviors that are repeated, because the disease is not unique (even if you think as I touched to you is not going to touch anyone). Serial behaviors are not happening to hundreds of boys and girls happens to thousands around the world. Anyway, you know you (yes, you know!) The smartest person ever born and ego so as to give lessons of philosophy in Sartre. So I felt, and I remember. (...)

If today's mannequins were real women would not have menstruation.

(...) I understand your anger because I was aware of how little I ate, but I do not think that food is the basis of human welfare. That is, how no one understands you and I feel fine? Well, the answer is no: no one understands. I believed then and still believe strongly that the important thing is the welfare of the soul, the human being as a whole. Some people only interested in me eat them, even knowing that it put me in a foul mood, made me feel obese and very unhappy. If he had wanted the best for me would not have had a discussion that night in the restaurant. (...)

When you're anorexic, bulimic, and you refuse to seek help because you think you know them all, began looking for a stone that you like because you're near death. (...)

My mistake was this: to believe that things were perfect. I was always sure that my family was the perfect family, my parents were the best, most dedicated, that my brothers and I were perfect. Nothing is further from reality,

(...)

Mary says:
not what you want, is what we want and must do. I am worried and thinking about how you came to be so ... Lagrima
says
was progressive, I guess. But the day I found out I had called my parents I turned my head. (...)

understand my parents now that I see from afar. Was completely crazy, insane and thought they were the cause of all my troubles. I could not do anything else: I wanted to die more than anything the world would disappear and stop being a nuisance and a bad memory for everyone. (...)

was not fighting against anyone but myself. I was hanging between life and death, hoping against hope that appeared a sign, a person, a gesture, a hug, a word to save me from my imminent death. And the nothingness itself. Nothing. (...)

borderline personality disorder, that was the first diagnosis of my psychologist (a disease best known for its English name "Borderline"). Nestor explained to me, is a fine line between neurosis and psychosis. Then I became interested in the subject (always wanted to know who I am, why and what's wrong) and found out some other data that I described in detail and accurately.

I read that borderlines are born with an innate biological tendency to react more intensely to lower stress levels and take longer to recover. Who are raised in environments in which their beliefs about themselves are continually devalued and invalidated and that these factors combine to create adults who do not know what their own feelings and so running from one end to another.
It makes them difficult to decide who they are. That's exactly what happens to me: I'm not sure what I like, what my favorite color or food, which I prefer to seat on the plane, what things bother me, what gives me pleasure. I can hardly describe without lying a lot about myself. I can not describe because I do not know who I am.

record I have problems with people: every action, every word, I take them as if they have a context, as if hanging from something else. And the overwhelming sense of feeling that is "all good" or "all evil." There are no half measures with me, with no gray border. It is frightening what is currently well over five minutes can end up being the worst thing that happened in life. (...) It's not easy
to understand what a borderline can do to achieve their goals. It is difficult to explain depression as a steady state. Nothing made me happy, with no smile. Bitterly did everything almost in a state of inertia. Lived, yes, but did not know why. Why was I alive? I wondered why every night before bedtime and mourn. (...)

There is a vast difference between wanting to die and not wanting to live a certain way. I did not want to live as until then, but certainly not made good choices and I walked into the dark swamp that was the only way out lurid death. (...) When we left

the building my dad and the lord of the estate arranged a date to sign the papers and give me the keys. I wanted to cry, Mom! Dad! Not want to move! I want to live forever with you! Never leave me! She could not, my parents were doing my will and would not miss the only chance he believed he had to save me. Going to live alone in my way, there was no escape. On the way home thinking about the bad times that I had been through and wanted to convince me that was doing the best for me. "I will be able to study quietly, I learn to drive alone, I'll cook (" to cook?), Clean, in order to make my bed. I have to live alone, I can not stay at my parents. " Mama, do not want to live alone. I do not want. Do not leave me.

(...) I think I'm still not completely abstracted so as to tell, with the air blind eye, but at least I'll try. Do not eat generates reluctance, generates non-existent enemies, makes those who love you mutate into deadly enemies. Makes you want to flee your home, your body, your head all you exhausted, you feel a hideous corpse that everyone is afraid to approach. Many because they know what to expect from you and many others because they are afraid that if you speak you die. I was dying but people do not approach me. Do not eat, also makes food intimate enemy: "What nourishes me destroys me" he would say. It is a familiar phrase in the environment pro-anorexia "Quod me nutrit me destruit." That appointment could be applied in many ways and in different ways in my life.

(...) I was always afraid to hide. Fear me, to finally finish eating me. (...)

I had trouble sleeping, lack of food gave me insomnia can not refuse, so I used to stay awake until two o'clock when they had gone to bed at eleven o'clock at night. Unbearable were hours where there was merely repeating touch my bone and that is the price you pay for be perfect. " Lie, was no price, it was nearing perfection, I was sinking more and deeper. Would soon reach the limit where there was nothing beneath me and that day would be the end. (...)

I had become what he had always hated: a religious fanatic. I always thought an atheist and yet I had created my own goddess [Ana], with special offerings and sacrifices he was willing to give instead of death, or his blessing. A blessing nonexistent, that only I could give. Nobody was going to save me, nobody could. It was too late to seek help. (...)

Alejandro

disappeared: men know how to solve the problems of their partners, are fleeing. Hopefully one day find a man who is not a coward, to commit myself and my history. Do not be afraid of what I am, what I was and am no longer and what can possibly be. But no, they all run away, because it is easier to take away or take a stand in a painful situation. Nobody knows cope with pain. How could I explain to Alex that my desire was not even five kilos? I wanted to disappear altogether. A day to sleep and never wake up. I wanted a silent death, a death that will stay forever in consciousness, the unconscious and in all parts of your body like a badly cured smallpox. I wanted my spots they moved forever to his consciousness, which fits on the head a single phrase as an echo echo "I did not want help," I did not want help, "I did not want help." And yet, in his mediocrity, he thought it was about food, that my fear was being fat. No, Ale. My fear is to be alive for ever, my deepest fear is my imagination to see me old, stay alive, to suffer forever. I want to die, to reconnect with Ursula. I want you to love me, too. And save me.

(...) I want to be the woman who had a dark past, I want to be a promising future, that smile without having to work, it is not because he is taking antidepressants. I need to know, need to be assured that at some point I will be happy with continuity, that my ravings are going to end sometime, somewhere soon. I want to stop being inconsistent and absurd and I can finally make a decision that lasts more than five minutes. I want to be strong. I want so many things ... and that is a sign of strength and growth. Before I did not want anything, I did not, no. denial was in person, it was nothing: no food, no desires, no nothing. Only the urgent need to stop there, of be nothing.

When we return to the past, when we fly over the punishment is important to have a reference to reality. To me, this reference is not me running, sometimes I lose and I lose. In my case, I'm not flying over the penalties, I strongly penetrating them (or them to me, anyway), inspecting each of them, reviewing archived echoes, remembering, listening once again. Each eco breaks some of my integrity, of that I learned to build these years, every line of this text, which aimed to foster, is becoming more and more vulnerable to the ax, unaware of the past attacks. Many times I have fear of sinking in one dimension unknown, that between absurdity and reality, between my book and my life. It is an issue that took me several sessions with my psychologist. Lose ground, often have no references. I do not know if I am Abzurdah or Heaven, I do not know what's wrong, what day it is or where I am. The writing process isolate us: we must concentrate and "live" in a world different from the rest. We get in touch, in my case, with characters of the past, experiences, memories, archives in the mind and forget what day it is or what we're writing.

(...) I do not want to be alone while I finish this text, I have much fear of getting lost and not know which of my versions I am. These night soil go to the movies too often and too alone. Not because they enjoy the company but I find no one to share what I get. How I can explain to someone who stopped writing and I do not remember who I am? Nobody in my social circle can understand, ie finishing no one can understand the sense of not knowing who I am. (...)

me great pain, impotence and phrases that are repeated listening. Some of the things that fill my dreams are the same as me discouraged. That a person can continue to cause rejection and love at the same time. That can go on loving and hating with similar intensity to the same person. (...)

The act of mutilation can help a person break free from an intense feeling of anger, sadness, loneliness, shame, guilt and / or emotional pain. QUS cut many people doing it as an attempt to free those emotions they are feeling and yet can not express. I particularly bilge so dead I see the blood out helped me realize that I really was alive.
(...) Why would someone hurt themselves? Why would a person stop eating? Are the same old questions. There are many ways to abuse yourself and anorexia is also one of them. People are self-abuse in the peace than anything else gives them. It allows them to relieve feelings and emotions and even avoid them. If individuals feel hatred for themselves the cut would be the way to get all this hate inside. Perhaps tell themselves that are ugly, they are useless, no one wants. The pain we cause our own words has no limits.

The history of the cuts may mean "I need attention" or maybe "I need help." The person who does not want to kill yourself short, but if you want to pay attention, to be heard. It is important to know what we're doing, but more important is knowing what we're doing. Nobody misbehaves because it does and if we cut it because we feel that there is something positive in the act. So as eating disorders are used to relieve the internal pain, the act of cutting or burning has the same aim: to help the individual to deal with the internal pain. Self-mutilation is probably the least understood forms of self-destruction and there are many myths associated with it, which makes people feel ashamed to seek help or talk about it. Many of the people who cut are perfectionists and are not able to handle intense feelings, they do not know to describe their emotions verbally, do not like their way of being or body and may experience mood changes very suddenly. Can be cut as a way of expressing their emotions and feelings, or as punishment. (...)

The people I'm afraid I do not want to have because I know they will not understand. I know I can not write everything that happens to me because there are no existing words to describe it. Nobody will ever understand what happened to me. I wish I had videos, I wish I could give each person who comes into my life a disk with my data. Hopefully, so no one is disappointed, so no one would create too many expectations with me. No, I'm brilliant or the best, most consistent I'm not either. I'm little and what little bit I understand .(...) In many things I never will recover, as many forget them over time. Each of them gave me a brand. He asks me to use healing to get me the marks on his arms: I want those brands are. The one hundred and one tracks of my arms, thousands of pains that brought me blood, I will not forget. I do not want to leave marks. They will go out over time, then with forgetfulness, if learning. I'm not going to remove, will leave little, in due time.

And many fragments include, but the book has about 350 pages.

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Does The Bugatti Have Two Engines

's all your fault (Pink) Something about me

You know what I mean? I'm sick of it, I'm tired of arguing with my boyfriend of me want to mourn at any time, give me soon and be irascible, of ... bufff! so I sing it to this shit ... Whatever!

Pink - It's all your fault - Album: Funhouse (2008)

I conjure up the Thought of Being gone But I'd Do That Probably wrong events I try to think about Which Way Would I be Able to and Would I be afraid Cause oh 'm bleeding out inside Oh I do not even mind (Yeah) It's all your fault You called me beautiful You turned me out And now I can't turn back I hold my breath Because you were perfect But I'm running out of air And it's not fair Da da dada da dada da Da dadadadadada da dadadadadada I'm trying to figure out what else to say (What else could I say) To make you turn around and come back this way (Would you just come back this way) I feel like we could be really awesome together So make up your mind cause it's now or never (oh) It's all your fault You called me beautiful You turned me out And now I can't turn back I hold my breath Because you were perfect But I'm running out of air And it's not fair I would never pull the trigger But I've cried wolf a thousand times I wish you could Feel as bad as I do I have lost my mind It's all your fault You called me beautiful You turned me out And now I can not turn back I hold (I hold) my breath (My breath) Because you Were Perfect But I'm running out of air (Running out of air) And it's not fair (Oh yeah It's all your fault) I hold my breath Because You Were Perfect But I'm running out of air And it's not (It's not) fair

I recalled the thought of going But even that would probably bad try to think how would be able and would fear oh Because I'm bleeding inside Oh do not even really care (yeah) all your fault I precious flame I brought out of me and now I can not go hold my breath Because you were perfect but I'm running out of air and is not fair (fair) given Da da da da given Da da dadadadadada dadadadadada try to calculate what to say (what else could I say?) to make you turn around and come back here (come back here no more?) feel we could be awesomely together So make up your mind as it is now or never (oh) all your fault You called me beautiful I brought out of me and now I can not go hold my breath Because you were perfect but I'm running out of air and is not fair (fair) Never pull the trigger But I have no reason struck a thousand times I wish you could feel as bad as I do I I lost my mind all your fault You called me beautiful I brought out of me and now I can not go hold my breath Because you were perfect but I'm running out of air and not just (Oh yes, is all your fault) hold my breath Because you were perfect but I'm running out of air and is not fair

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Mixed Neck Sitting Wrestling

Hello everybody s:

today was the need to tell you how it goes. To be honest, I had looking forward to this afternoon, now after dinner, something less.

I have already told somewhere, can not remember where, because I'm spreading "information" - he finally went to the doctor. I was, yes sir, and also the specialist.
I started therapy, treatment or whatever. I had a first visit or diagnostic evaluation and then I have referred to the psychologist and nurse.
A psychologist I have not yet seen, a nurse, yes, and I have an appointment and every week with her, while for the appointment with the psychologist I still have a month. It will be a bit shocking to me at least I thought so.

And the first consultation with the nurse was today. Is a nurse with expertise in nutrition, my namesake in life is not virtual, and I found very enjoyable. I spent an hour in the office and, of course, I cried because I could not help it, I would have liked to hold them, but it was impossible. Not sure what I would do with it, for a weekly trip seemed long. As strange as it sounds, I will teach you to eat. And it will also help with self-esteem, something that has caught my attention, I thought that the psychologist would be responsible - for what I have refers to it, then? Mystery!

I went away disconsolate, despite how nice it was women. Do you know what I liked? I say it was a normal girl. It felt as if I am or what I do is not enough, they expect more of me (maybe I wait ailment and others) and hearing that made me feel lighter, that part of the weight above him, had fallen from the shoulder and was released. However, left with an overwhelming desire to mourn not at any time in the afternoon.

The truth is that my mood has plummeted since the summer. And if I felt even shorter of moral and more subdued, this evening I was much more aware because I felt really happy, I wanted to talk to whoever I want and even bought a gift for my boyfriend because I wanted to get something. It screwed up everything after the dinner y. .. In short, here I am writing at dawn and without a shred of sleep, a little tired, though.
What a mess! I know what I mean, I'm excited to tell right now.

Well, I'll leave it here. This afternoon I could think of more things to tell but ...

I leave you with my favorite quote of the day:
"Please ant by step "(the nurse asking me patience).

Greetings to all.

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Jennifer Love Hewitt Human Hair Extentions

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Ultimate Organics Shea Butter Tested On Animals

Natalia

lay on the floor of his room, face down, with closed eyes and hands to head height as if it had fallen off a ladder and had met him.
What once had been screams, was now silent, as they had been tears were now stained clothes and the floor.

The neighbor could have sworn I was testing some new shoes for the races he had heard; su novio asumió que estaba en la ducha porque no contestaba a ningún teléfono. Ella se buscaba a sí misma en su cabeza porque su cuerpo, descontrolado, no le respondía: corría, saltaba, gritaba, lloraba, se golpeaba, se tiraba al suelo, se levantaba...



La mente en blanco. Antes llena de odio, falta de respeto e insultos, de impaciencia y contradicción.


Un ruido seco sobre la puerta.

- Sí, he oído muchos gritos: "¡No, no!", varios golpes y al rato un silencio repentino.

- ¿Y dice que aquí sólo vive una mujer?

- Sí.
- Here it is! "Said another man.

agent came over and looked at his companion, who crouched beside the girl.
- pulse, seems to be asleep. What about medical emergencies?
- Here I am, "said entering the room and pushing the agent.

The doctor had noticed the house, riot, and saw the girl on the ground watching his matted hair as he and his eyes swollen. He retired a few strands of the face and called her name.
- How are you? Can you stand?
The officer had remained silent since it came, stunned, and only now to hear the faint voice of Natalia gesture could change and turn their eyes to the doctor, without uttering a word.
- Anxiety.

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Edible Fruit And Vegetable Arrangements

This is what I am (song) may not make me forget

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Jesse & Joy - may not

support and affection, encouragement and courage receipt of many people know them some more and continued support; other, less and is more sporadic, but not less important or less necessary for me. With almost all, if not generalize to 100%, I learned something and I have known a little more, so I think you deserve all this beautiful lyrics sung. I also dedicate it to those people who support me or give me love at present, though, and I do not know cause a few tears because I know that I want, including those who are unaware of this virtual gap that I have here on the net open. And some people from my past with whom I lost touch but were there to support me in my childhood and my adolescence. I particularly remember who was my best friend, who endured my tears and my complaints so many years and who, undoubtedly and unfortunately, I scored with my pessimism (are things that one realizes years later, so that now I know is very strong and as fun as always).
To all, thanks.

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"I'm strong enough "


Sing, scream, do karaoke: prodigal to the four winds: "I am strong enough, will strike you, you can not me." Because you can, cheer up! Those thoughts that are inside our heads and we will constantly torment cowed by our strength and our determination. You can! S can WE ARE!

On the video, the video is original, does not know how many years will not comentarios...


Cher - Strong enough

I don't need your sympathy There's nothing you can say or do for me And I don't want a miracle You'll never change for no-one And I hear your reasons why, Where did you sleep last night? And was she worth it, was she worth it? 'Cause I'm strong enough to live without you Strong enough and I quit crying Long enough, now I'm strong enough To know you gotta go There's no more to say So save your breath and walk away No matter what I hear you say I'm strong enough to know you gotta go So you feel misunderstood Baby, have I got bad news for you On being used, I could write a book But you don't wanna hear about it 'Cause I've been losing sleep and you've been going cheap She ain't worth half of me, it's true Now I'm telling you That I'm strong enough to live without you Strong enough and I quit crying Long enough now I'm strong enough To know you gotta go Come hell or waters high You'll never see me cry This is our last goodbye, it's true I'm telling you Now I'm strong enough to live without you Strong enough and I quit crying Long enough now I'm strong enough To know you gotta go There's no more to say So save your breath And walk away No Matter What I hear you say I'm strong enough to know you gotta go

not need your sympathy There is nothing you can say or do for me I do not want a miracle never change for anyone And I hear your reasons, Where did you sleep last night? was worth it, she deserved punishment? Because I'm strong enough to live without you strong enough, and left to mourn enough time ago, now I'm strong enough to know that you have to go so take air and walk away no matter what hear you say I'm strong enough to know that you have to go So you feel misunderstood Honey, I have news for you On being used I could write a book but you do not want hear about it Cause I losing sleep and you're gone pulling And she's not worth half that I true I'm telling you now I'm strong enough to live without you strong enough , and left to mourn enough time ago, now I'm strong enough to know that you have to go. Come hell or waters rise not see me ever mourn this is our last goodbye, it's true I'm telling Now I'm strong enough to live without you strong enough, and left to mourn enough time ago, now I'm strong enough to know that you have to go There is only say so take a breath and get out No matter what you hear you say 'm strong enough to know that you have to go .

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what would I say to a parent?

This entry is published on Highway Weaving Esteem, the blog we have in common, but because I feel it important to share and have the widest possible, I would bring it here too. There is also another entry in this blog for family and friends ( I am a relative / friend, what would I say to a sick @? ). Here you can read the post, but if you want to leave a comment, do click on the link above, I disabled on this post so they are not scattered in several places.

As sick, what I would tell a family / boyfriend / friend?

I would say take a deep breath, ask yourself what is happening to that person who wants to have problems with food, which takes into account that these illnesses are psychological, not physical (physical consequences are, what causes , no), that are born of insecurity, lack of self confidence, a difficulty to understand themselves and express what and how you feel that the insecurity and low self-esteem, often reinforced by the imposed standards of perfectionism come from a combination of circumstances that have been forged in life that has persisted since his childhood.

I would ask you not feel guilty, to admit some responsibility if there is, yes, but her strength to pull himself and to help that person you want.

tell you from personal experience, not to focus on food, they only find pouting, tears and a further separation of those who want (as someone who smokes when asked to stop smoking: it is generally angry and upset, bothered, as if he is right, and not leave him alone).
you say you have every right to care and show concern for that person, but I would ask that was not in the form of screams, despair and charges, as the person you want, you're sick, you feel misunderstood, alone and even more will harbor feelings of anger and hatred toward whom it carries with it.

I would ask you to have patience, to be informed about these diseases: what they are, how they appear, which may be the evolution, what therapy, what to expect ... in books or, if necessary, consult a physician.

I would remind those who suffer from these diseases tend to be intelligent and therefore are not silly teenagers or adults who are influenced by fashion (obviously this affects, but not the cause) and that is why I would ask that you treat that person you want as stupid, crazy or absurd, but fails to comprehend. Would reveal that, although not enough, people with these diseases often find many of the negative consequences that occur around them due to illness, such as fights between family members and, for that matter, blame and blame only makes them feel worse, not looking to cause these unpleasant situations, but the opposite: feeling better by yourself in the only known way: through the relationship with food, harmful to it may be. L @ \u200b\u200bs @ s enferm usually have a very acute sense of guilt if they are reproached for something like this will only increase.

tell you that because of the disease usually develops an unfriendly character, brusque, anxious, irritable, frecentes anger, pessimism and negativity that does not necessarily correspond to the true self of the person you appreciated, I would ask you to remember that this is something temporary that will fade as recovery occurs and do not assume that person is sad, susceptible or without personality, but is thus temporarily duration disease.

I confess you will need to be strong and is likely to be times when you feel you can not more, than he is hurting and, for that matter, I would ask you also worry about one's self, do not forget he / she, who is entitled to express their anger and even to seek help or support to address the situation.

I would ask that as unbalanced self-esteem is low and is one of the key points is to inform and seek how they can act to reinforce it. Personally, I consider it fundamental to any family or couple, even when no eating disorders. That's what I, as sick, you say to a father mother, brothers and sisters, hij @ o novi @, what would you say?

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Is this a novel, a story, of which I have written this time I have been away, because one of the things that I've been has been to attend a writing workshop. It is the last story I wrote before the end of the workshop.
I would not want it as something literal tomáseis, something happened to me so personally, is a fabricated story from my own emotions.
I wrote it thinking in those people unfamiliar with the disease in first person, with the idea that they could understand a little better how this happens and how he feels there is a glut of food and then need to be purged. I do not know if I've achieved that goal. Anyone who has passed, I imagine, will understand it better.

I dedicate it to Dhanaev , for the great support and love shown to me in the only two comments so far been left on my blog, and hopefully feel embraced by their words.
I also dedicate it to a friend that I consider special Mandrake . Whether it is animated or not, your ears have always been open to him to tell him and his voice, through their hands, they have been giving me encouragement and understanding.
Thank you both. Thanks to all the others as you write me and / or read it. I also dedicate it to you.

[You can leave your literary opinion, whether good or bad!]

Marta

out of class. Were just signs of sun in the sky and the grass smelled musty. Hours earlier, en route to college, had been eating on the train. The nerves had been to buy food for the journey, once again loaded with donuts, cookies and chips. After school was carried away by firing in smooth flowing into the subway station.
nerves that had come dressed in laughter and self-confidence, loneliness now were unknown to both. The energy of these newly-minted adults bubbled and burst into laughter, kisses and goodbyes weekend.
suddenly wondered why he was there on the platform, the crowd, and why anyone accompanying or included in their plans the following day. Definitely, had left more nervous than I was, although neither she understood why. He opened the tube of potatoes on the sidewalk, waiting and once in the car continued to eat standing. His eyes, levitating above the floor, waving at times looking for the gestures of the occupants of the car. Six months ago, when there was quiet, would have smiled to see the curly hair and wore that bright girl in a ponytail, or would have been spellbound with black nail polish of that other. Not now, now looked at his hands and wondered why he ate so run down that way. I wanted to stop, close the tube and store potatoes in the bag or, better yet, throw it away, but could not control. Again to look up, witnesses, those who watched, his anxiety.
Three had to get stops, the boat was still open and the potatoes were disappearing. His hand just before launching narrowed toward the door. Out of it was as if the noise spit to the monotonous season.

wore a long skirt black, fine linen. Loved: fresh, long, black, made him at a party. I used to hold it with both hands when climbing or descending stairs. This time could only be with one. The more you grab, more was painted yellow specks. It was inevitable that if he did not step on stain also if I wanted to keep feeling princess.
enjoyed the grace of hold on the descents and ascents of those dusty tunnels, but hated the hands, accessories and tools that fit insatiable stain your favorite skirt fat, the substance rubbed and rubbed more time to see disappear down the drain, with a sigh of relief.

stairways, tunnels and staircases. Took the boat back open and your mouth full. Chewed as fast as you would have thought he was preparing for a contest. For his skill, he would have won. With four potato in his hand, lifted her face and went to the mouth just in time a woman raised his arm in greeting, giving off a pungent smell of sweat that revealed their hard day. The potatoes were already on the palate, the perfume in your nose. It was easy to distinguish the smell of each. His pituitary, however, perceived it, was the result of the numerous outbursts that had suffered this week. His senses were disrupted. The mouth began to ache, swollen by salt and the crunch of the potatoes. The donuts will provoke caries but does not hurt when you chew. He still had some.
sweet She did not salty, the anxiety that engulfed the senses disconnected from your brain and just set them apart. His hands, insensitive, only knew starting the potatoes thin cardboard boat.

continued the journey home, eating on the bus. Luckily only two seats were occupied, did not like that observed eating. When the cardboard tube was empty, his hands were revived and wanted to feel the soft threads of chocolate and sugar. It was a big box, but only two remained, the rest had eaten in the afternoon, between races to get to the right. Luckily he was coming home. The chocolate had melted and stained lips, teeth and nails. He wanted to lick your fingers but he was two stops away from yours. He pressed the button as he could to sprinkle and no one got out of pileup that spit all the smoke to pass behind to cross the street. He wiped his hands well. Never missing tissues in your purse, no soap petals and a bottle of cologne.
It was dark and only distinguished the light bars. He lived in the same street but was diverted by another that opened into a square end. There it was: the 24-hour grocery so often went. Where once went window shopping, supermarkets are now discovering identifying and memorizing their schedule.
pulled the purse: 2.75 €. I would for a chocolate cupcake and even you 50 cents more than enough, enough for a bag of white chocolate covered star.
shop owners greeted with a smile. Before stepping onto the street the first cupcake touched his lips and kept pressing for their teeth. I could not tell if he liked it or not, only the question arose whether it would be tasting. I did not.

In the 8-minute-long walk to his house, Marta swallowed half a kilo weighing four cupcakes. Luckily there was still water in the bottle. It was something not usually lacking, rarely forgot the kitchen counter.
With hands still glazed took his keys and went home. "Mom, Dad? Ana! ". Nobody home. His parents had gone to dinner, reported a note. Her sister would be studying in the library, he thought, would not be long in coming. "Well!".
Although loneliness caused him distress and he looked like a cactus in the desert in a few seconds would be buried by the sandstorm, was glad to be alone: \u200b\u200bshe could lock herself in the bathroom and continue the strange relationship he had with him, with mirror, with the water.
So much food in her stomach was trembling, frightened. Anxiety sunk under pressure with saliva and sugar, had sprung to swallow the last piece of muffin, sliding it down the street and corridors of the building.
be glad, yes, glad to be home alone a lot. I had to wait for the family to sit on the couch. His eyes quickly traveled through the walls and a small smile, her face coloring.
In the bathroom with the door closed, he noticed his reflection in the mirror. Looked: that figure inflated and distorted frightened him. Guilt, like the moon rising, the overflowing and his muscles were fired in unison into the toilet. Not that that is nice. At first, perhaps they still had the chocolate sweetness. In the end, of course, no, was the opposite. His eyes watered of effort, the feeling burdened, swollen. Groused his throat burned. The last arch relief knew no, no, no good. His body, intemperate, was shivering and shaking in each, for a few seconds, when incorporated, lost his balance, dizzy. Looked at herself in the mirror, silent, motionless, his eyes were red, dark circles, mauve, chin, dirty. I wanted to mourn but his eyes had silenced her voice. I wish I had someone to hold at that time. bell rang. He started and redder of shame that effort, he washed his face, cleaned the sink, flushed and went to meet his sister.

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Princess Street and confessed I must confess that ...

I confess that bad, that I am not well.
confess that I have discussed with my boyfriend for dinner.
confess that I have to beat myself.
confess that sometimes I fear, my thoughts scare me.
confess that sometimes I cry and many others hate me.
confess that I tried to talk to the doctor and went in vain (I was dumb).
confess that I'ma bit lost and listless.
confess that the day came and I was aware and I assumed that was wrong, I confess that I said "remember, and you've got to realize, do not forget" and I have to force myself to remember.
confess I do not understand, sometimes insult me, I realize I do not care.
confess that I despise myself and I have the feeling that is just what my mind searches. I confess that this is one of the thoughts that scare me.
confess that I have not stopped writing at this time, but not here.
confess that I wanted to finally return to my blog and I felt bad about not writing anything for him so careless. I confess that even I thought that, by not writing, no one will come back to him. I confess that I needed to justify not sharing anything new with you / you in so long.
I confess that ideas were going to post here but when I had time, or could not write a mail.
confess that I realized that being at home I altered and do my best to get away from it. Confess I do not think it's for my family.

confess that this idea came to me three days ago and still is costing me a lot do it, but I had to. I could not leave more. I was afraid even I close the blog for a long absence (to me at least made me very long).

confess that I need to feel someone and that's why I'm looking forward to reading a new comment. If someone wants to make a confession, you can do here.

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of how fashions change clothes

I'm not very inspired at this time, sorry if this post is not so nice. Today I came across, rather, crossed in front of me, a subway guard, waiting for the train to come. He was tall and quite slender, with drooping shoulders forward, almost chepudo. I looked at the pants of his uniform, he fell somewhat short (fishing as heard here in Spain) and I stopped to think that now the pants are longer than 10 years ago. Could it be because people grow. But remember that before coming length often accompanied by height. I was 16, but wearing adult clothes and I remember my mother just had to fix some trousers. Now there's a pair I bought, still long, below the ankle, which does not have to fix. Then I thought that now young people is higher and perhaps that are longer, perhaps because it is fashionable to drag pants - fashion or convenience or ignorance by not having to fix them? -, or perhaps because it is now fashionable thinness than ever and have your age and height you are looking for thinness, so if you are 13 years and you are petite or have 20 or 30 and you're tall, you have the same size because it takes to be thin. I do not know if I explain. If before (as I recall), more size, more length pants (not always), now regardless of size pants are always long. And I have not shrunk, mind you! What do you think it is only by the fashion to wear pants?

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be child only / a tandem

had long wanted to write on this subject. So long that my head has chewed up and undo it makes me so fast and easy as slow and difficult to write about it.

I and many other girls and boys, women and men are only children, we have no brothers or sisters. Sometimes one (or one) grows only with a parent due to a large age difference between siblings or due to other reasons because they are away from home and grow almost as singletons. There

the topic of spoiled only child, the "child of father" to give you everything you want or request. Often people ask you when you say your family and only child, you feel a special look. It is not contempt, I do not think it is envy. It's a look that perhaps by having seen so many times you can not forget and know what it means. Something like: "I was saying" or "good, another spoiled." As if any of your actions, how you act or behave, gives you away as a child only / a.

may be so. I do not perceive because it is myself who acts or behaves that way (in some people.)
I've only met a person who, being brothers, I say that only children had something special in the right direction. If you are only hij @ @, you know what I mean and weird and fascinating it is to hear something like that, how happy you do not feel judged because your parents are unable or choose not to have more children. Because, after all, is something you can not control, is the decision of your parents.

And as I break the topic, I'll keep talking about it.

usually associated only hij @ @ to be pampered, be fickle / and receive much attention. What good, right?, recicbir much attention, that your parents are with you in everything you do, behind you, holding you, loving you, buying things. But the truth is stranger than fiction, and not only for good.

When an only child, parents often tip you have no other son to attend, of course, want to take care of most and best to have what they did not have, because they only have one having all and the best, exceeding what they had and went, having a better life and easier. (This can also happen when you have more than one child, is not restricted to only children, with little difference that a child "only one chance" to do things).

What most people do arises is how much attention can affect and what can be wrong with being an only child. Generally seen as positive only, forget the drawbacks.

turns out when you have siblings (of a similar age who are still at home when you're growing), attention, time, scolding, desires, frustrations, demands, are shared, and if get along with a brother or sister, you can share your feelings, fights and ally or turn against one opinion or another paternal or maternal.
When an only child, is the only one that is trusted to come out good, to behave, to study, to be educated, only to be understanding and tolerant, but also the only that demand "so you know, the only to carry out the frustrated hopes and desires of their parents.
is the only one who hears the arguments, the only one who will cry when the other (the parent) are not. If mom or dad get angry, you're the third pillar of the family will tell you to what the other has said, even I criticize because they are angry or hurt. One comes first, then the other. If there is a bang or discussed in the next room, you're just you, with your car or your stuffed animals to hear. And you're in the middle: you can ignore, ignore, or try to mediate between them, which need a lot of left hand, a lot of empathy to know when and how to say what happens to another family member without hurting too. Or you can hear and be silent. If your mother is angry, if your father has problems (say, for example, the alcohol is not my case, and you miss a cake), only one child with whom to pay. Say you live in a little more things of loneliness that when another brother to lean on or to be reflected and realize that one is not sun @, that not only happens to him.

The service is good, but will cease to be when you become overprotective, when you have enough freedom to make mistakes to learn, because you advise what to do or not do (actually I are saying they expect you to do what they want to do, because they think it right and do not want that mistake).

Parents feel their children (as I recently told a father who had lost a son in an attack): laugh when your children are happy, they are wrong, and suffer when their children are ill. Are you an only child, can only suffer or smile at you. It is a tremendous weight to know that your parents suffer from seeing mourn or to be more quiet than normal.

can make you many gifts, all right, but of no use if you feel sad or feel that your life is a shit. Of little use if you see that despite growing up, you are treated like a child, with the same protection. Of little use if you can not communicate with them better than they wanted.

In some cases, parents decide to have only one child to give what they all have not been. But ... What do we mean with that "everything"? Of very little use to give a child books, clothes, backpacks, shoes, computers, games to play and hundreds of material things when what you could improve as a parent (education, love, morals) stay at the office because when you get home you're terribly tired and can not stand the childish your child I've heard more than one parent say "I'm looking cole starts to leave me alone!" (Think about it, children are not a puppet to be laughing when we play and be quiet when we're tired and do not feel like hear mourn or complain. It is very hard to hear phrases like that). Society is changing and it is very expensive to have a child (the reality), so Mom and Dad are working to keep the house and give all child / s. Where is the love? Where the talks and walks in through games that are taught to love, to respect themselves and others?

I'm digressing ... I care too much what is now the education of children and young people and change from one topic to another.

wanted to get to the point that parents unconsciously want their children do not comment the same mistakes as their children, they can study for a degree, they hit a. .. what one wanted and could not, that something abstract that is in the unconscious as a thorn that Rozart notes with a smooth surface. And it happens that when one is an only child, also occurs in families of two, three or more siblings, mom and dad put all their hope that their son will get there. Again, it is a tremendous weight, it does not succeed, frustration, though temporary, will be great and you feel bad (if you have a good self-esteem, that's true).

Parents are not to blame for everything, or maybe yes it is due to a weakness weakness or genetic tendency ... They are guilty of everything we do, what we say or we are, how we behave in older, but much influence as it is in childhood when we get more influence, are more susceptible, a white sheet on which is written, newborn dog to be taught to behave. Although genetically
have our own biases or predispositions, childhood is essential for further development. In fact, I heard from a psychologist that is the reason that many children adopted from foreign countries suffer after both developmental disorders.

Fortunately, human beings have a survival instinct yet and it has gone bad, tends to become stronger and fight to get and how you feel. This does not mean that it is not "marked" for years.

short, which again I digress, being an only child is not just being a spoiled child is suffering from certain deficiencies and disadvantages, as can be suffered by those who do have siblings, but in different ways.

Perhaps we are special, maybe not, but since then not only have received lots of cuddling.

As said earlier, I find it easy or very hard to talk about, because I have clear ideas, but mix them with new ones, as you have seen. I hope you understand that if you have or are going to have a child, luchéis against fatigue and give you know your son / s the resources to be happy and have a healthy self-esteem, confidence and assertiveness.

Grace As I know, this topic will come ... I hope your comment! hehe

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The sweet and happy Graciela it left me in a comment:

psychiatrist Carlos Delgado thinks about anorexia and bulimia are not diseases of silly girls who want to be thin. They are people with severe psychological disturbance. Very fragile. At any given time are in a conflict: they can not evolve psychologically and can grow as individuals, conflict is distressing. Decide to grow delaying its development. Require much assistance.

On the other hand, Tecau (Weaving Paths of Self-Esteem) Violeta brought us this one excerpt:

Unlike alcoholism and drug addiction an eating disorder is an addictive behavior. A woman with a TCA is addicted to certain eating and not the food itself. But food is not the problem. When a person be cured of an ATT must be willing to go beyond food and discover the true hunger behind the compulsive need to eat.

I bring them here in tandem because they are issues on which I have thought long and on which even had thought with others, with Violeta and other girls. He had not come to the conclusion myself, but there you have them.

And why bring them here? Because for me is important. It is important to realize that we hide feelings and ideas behind our "abnormal" behavior (I mean, altered) with food, whatever it (excess, loss, vomiting or other purging, just food, plenty of exercise, etc.).. Also under other behaviors such as sleep over not being able to stand or harm to oneself (self-injury, self-harm, verbal or physical).
for us all these behaviors are "normal" call me stupid because yes, I am, not try to study or do this or that because I'm useless for this, I'm a clumsy or stupid, and because, because I'm nervous and I can not stop. And there we were, not go beyond, and even when we question and try to cross the line and understand, we find it hard, really hard.
But have to start somewhere. And maybe after tens, dozens or a hundred attempts to realize that we alone / alone can not bring out our hidden head with eating and other behaviors ... and no abnormal or altered (also) but influences which make life difficult and miserable existence. Even though there are not constantly come and go. Are there. The cough may come and go, but that's up to our throats and our body recovers and goes.

"Addiction? I asked a lot and I was convinced that food and purging (vomiting, taking laxatives) were addictive. Now is when I understand that they are not alone, but the conduct itself. Why? I understand from my experience, although it may confuse me, they are by being perceived momentary or, for example, by vomiting or taking laxatives, because, otherwise, at least not feel so bad for eating so much. This is the case (I could think of and sometimes I can think of) where you control what you eat: the fear that gives you eat, go away, you can stay quiet, calm returns; feel a great inner strength, something that tells you you're doing well well and you're gonna get ("consequir what? I wonder. What is to be achieved with tight control of the food?).

When we realize these and other things depends on hundreds of details. It is worth noticing. Unfortunately realize, accept and ask for help are not the same thing, do not occur at the same time. But it can not be one without the above.

Well, right back to the "usual", which I round every week and that it ends up leaving, and in tandem, since it is related to the foregoing.

Anyway, I'm not going to keep spinning. For me these two texts were important; perhaps for you, for you who read me, so is, to serve something.

We are not rar @ s. Rare is it that we do not understand.
And as my grandmother, "to learn is to lose." Because, after all, involves recovering know, learn to shop and another chance, learn to listen, not to hurt, to accept and even love yourself.

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Antibiotic Chest Infection

When I show you like and Dreams

discovered the talent of this girl through a video that showed me a friend. It was the day before yesterday and since then I can out of my head. Every video I see I like him more than the previous. Perhaps this is not the one you like (maybe not the one I like to me, I know when I have seen them all), but I do not leave you indifferent. Or maybe he did.



Your Address: My neighbor Martie .

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