Sleep deprived.

It's true. I haven't slept since I woke up yesterday, which was fairly late, anyway. Still... I wish I could sleep normally. I suppose once school starts it'll go back to some semblance of normalcy. Maybe. You always hear about college students having the worst sleeping patterns imaginable, but my schedule is fairly normal. Most days I have to be up early enough in the morning that by the time nightfall rolls around I'll more than likely be struggling to stay awake. Which will be strange for me, since I always have been and more than likely always will be a night owl.

Perhaps the worst part about staying up late like this is all of the time in solitude. I won't lie, I love it. It's probably what allows me to seem so extroverted throughout the day. In reality, I have a love/hate relationship with "peace and quiet". I love it because thinking can be a very good thing for me. Lots of good things have come from my staying up insanely late and having time to sort through life and not just go, go, go. The "go and do" mentality works well for me for awhile until I feel overwhelmed and worn thin and then I usually FREAK. OUT. So that's one reason why I like time to myself. I hate it, though, because it's time to myself. When left to my own devices, things can go very, horribly wrong. Sometimes I mean them to. Sometimes I don't.

Tonight was semi-productive, I think. Other than wasting a good many hours playing games like Dairy Dash and Cooking Dash and whatnot, I've also had time to think about what's behind me and what lies ahead of me. The road I've walked, (and that is now behind me), is littered with shattered dreams and hopes and even a few fragments of my heart that I left somewhere back there and may never get back. It's a sad prospect to me because I was always so insistent on maintaining my heart and holding it. And I gave it up just like every stupid girl who trusts a boy. The worst part is that we can't just do it once. Oh no. The torturous agony of having our heart smashed like a pumpkin with a sledge hammer once isn't enough for us. We prefer to play the game. Part of me is glad I'm experiencing this thing called a broken heart now. Still, the girl that longs for God to write her love story isn't dead. I pick up the pieces of my heart, hand them over to God, and let Him have them and mend them. Because He does it better than I ever did or could do.

I've also been thinking a lot of my weight. It's like this never ending cycle. A demon on my shoulder that has an apparent lack in the ability to die. I went on countless diets. Didn't do anything. I had gastric bypass surgery and lost 150 pounds and have gained back thirty of those. I was diagnosed with an eating disorder, (EDNOS since they couldn't decide between Anorexia, Purging Type, Bulimia, or Binge Eating Disorder), and other than making me unbelievably sick and keeping me AT a certain weight, it didn't help me lose anything. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Multiple diets, stomach spliced and intestines rearranged, and daily meals flushed down the toilet and I am STILL the fat girl. It's unbelievable to me and it makes me feel... so damn hopeless.

I wish I could live the lifestyle that seems to come to other people so naturally. I feel like I will always be stuck with crap. Crap food. Crap people. Crap doctors. When do I get the fairytale experience that other people can't seem to stop raving on about? IS it because they can afford what I can't? Does the fairytale have to be bought? No one made me aware of that. When I had my surgery, protein shakes weren't really mentioned until my one week check-up when they said, "You need to start drinking protein supplements. They sell them at Walmart." So I bought a big jug of the chocolate powder from Walmart. If bodybuilders did it, I could too, right? Eeeewwwwwww.... it was AWFUL. Why was it that I could shove an entire Subway footlong sub into my body without really tasting it, but now that this counted for nutrition and health every mouthful was like a torturous combination of spoiled milk, sawdust, and cocoa powder? So I didn't drink them, of course.

Then I discover that there IS such a thing in this world as good tasting protein. I've had it before, I know it exists. The stuff I really love, the Muscle Milk Banana Creme, is apparently not good for post-ops, so I didn't drink it anymore. Too much sugar. Why was it other people dumped like a garbage truck when they even eyed something with over five grams of sugar and here I was, surgeon telling me I wouldn't dump, indulging in Hershey's Kisses as soon as I could covince myself they were "safe". Anyway, back to the protein, (I always get sidetracked by chocolate). I KNOW that good tasting protein is out there. The issue we have? It happens to be RIDICULOUSLY expensive. So Ashlee had a choice: try and find a way to get my hands on that protein, shut up and chug/gag down THREE of those awful sour milk/sawdust/cocoa concoctions a day, or not drink it at all and watch my health tank. I got my hands on some of the good stuff. But good stuff doesn't last forever. And woman cannot live on charity alone.

So I'm back to the "I'd rather spend a day with a pack of rabid Tasmanian Devils than drink that cheap crap" attitude. Which gets me no where and I am, thusly, responsible for my own health failing me. I really just am at a loss for what to do. I once said I would drink toilet water every day if I had a guarantee that it would make me thin, but I guess its just not true. There are certain things a human being just can't do. Maybe I was designed to be this way, I don't know... here I go resigning myself again. I HATE to be so damn doom and gloom. I just wish someone would have told me the fiscal ramifications of the life I was jumping into absolutely blindfolded.

Maybe angels from heaven will start dropping Oh Yeah! Shakes and Kay's Naturals Chips on my dorm like manna from heaven. (FYI God... I wouldn't protest!) All I know is that if it seems like I'm overwhelmingly negative in my posts, it's because the rest of the day I really am trying my hardest to be positive and put good things out there in the universe for other people. This seems to be the one place where I can totally say: "Yeah. Life kinda blows." But that's just it: Life DOESN'T blow. Not by a long shot. I'm going to college in two weeks and have a brand new laptop and a bunch of other things. And, even if they are falling to shambles, a family that loves me very much. So why am I so focused on weight?

Maybe it's because I'm sick of being the fat girl. Maybe it's because for once in my life, I'd like to walk into a room and not have people staring at me in a negative way and getting all uncomfortable and thinking: "Oh God. A fat girl. Don't look at her and maybe she'll go away." I don't WANT to have to dread a class with physical activity, a camping trip for a class, meeting new people and defying expectations. I want to be me... and I want to be free. I just have no clue how to get there.