lifetimeofasummer

Update:

So, I hit my first major speed bump.  Weekends are always difficult because my best friend doesn’t support my weight loss so he eats lots of crappy foods and gets mad when I won’t eat with him or count my calories. So this weekend I was REALLY bad. 

Also, my shin splints are giving me the worst time and my daddy took my sneakers from me because he is afraid I am going to mess my legs up.  But today, I get them back as long as I make myself take the time to take care of them.  I am going to Dicks to get a new set of splint wraps and some tape for my feet and maybe to get an iPod arm band. 

My feet were so torn up but this weekend has given them time to heal up a LOT. The calluses are finally thickening up (haven’t had that for at least a year (: ).  I have an appointment with my nutritionist tomorrow so we will see exactly how much progress I have made.

Since my paycheck came through I am able to get all the goodies from the grocery store that I need and my parents are actually starting to try some of the stuff I am making and eating.  I am gonna start tracking my exact calorie intake to see if that makes a difference.

It’s funny to me to think that you know almost nothing about me but you still think you love me. 

you don’t know what my room looks like, the one i retire to every evening, the little touches i put about it to make it mine.  

you don’t know how many times i have stayed in that room, hid away from everything, too scared of this big world, too fragile. 

you don’t know how many times i have braced myself for the best and the worst, how many times i have let my guard down to have my heart broken. 

you don’t know how many little things that people say or do i hold close, never forgetting a single detail, never forgetting them. 

you don’t know what my home town looks like and all the houses i was raised in, the little towns and all the growing that took place there. 

you don’t know how long i hug my grandmother, how often i sit with my grandfather, how many times i silently hold their affections close to me. 

you don’t know how me and my momma sit for hours just being together, just having each other, always. 

you don’t know how desperate my daddy tries to communicate with me, not understanding he doesn’t even have to try. 

you don’t know what i see in the mirror every morning and every night, how much i have to do to convince myself to walk out the door. 

you don’t know the amount of money i have spent on gas chasing the looming thoughts that creep out from the corners of my mind, the ones i only entertain on long car rides. 

you don’t know the things i stay up all night to read, or even better, to write, spilling everything out on paper. 

you don’t know how often i cry, and how often it is weeping, on the shower floor or in my closet or crouched between my bed and my chest. 

you don’t know how my shins, legs, and feet ache and bleed all night, sticking me to the bed and making it so i can’t even run away.

you don’t know how many times i’ve hung my head over the toilet, how many times i’ve hated myself just for walking through the kitchen.

you don’t know how many bruises i have hidden, made excuses for, just because i love them in their own way. 

you don’t know how many times i have just pushed through it anyway, the aching pains, the hurt tracing down my spine, in my head, the rods twisting through my shins. 

you don’t know how often i wake in the middle of the night dreaming of such awful things i soak a childhood blanket with tears, only to sleep from exhaustion. 

you don’t know the songs i play all night, just to console me, just to sing me to sleep and keep my mind clear, my own personal lullabies. 

you don’t know how i love and dread the shower, putting me far away from everyone else, making it so i am alone with my own thoughts. 

you don’t know the secret things i hide away, deep inside, the thoughts that one day will be set free. 

you don’t know my dreams and goals, my hopeful plans for the future, all involving pleasing you. 

you don’t know how i dream of being held, of being touched and cared for, of being loved,  of being everything you want. 

you don’t know how many times i dream of having a child, all for me, one that belongs to me and needs me. 

you don’t know how many times i fantasize about having a house, children, a job, a future, something simple. 

you don’t know how much time i dedicate to impressing you, mostly to only go unnoticed on your part. 

you don’t know how many nights i’ve spent restless only to end up praying to God for salvation and for everything he wants. 

you don’t know the clothes i put on just to make me feel beautiful or sexy or pretty even when i have no where to go. 

you don’t know all the songs i dance around my room singing, just to get my mind off of this ridiculous world. 

you don’t know how many times i have thought that i can’t believe this is finally beginning, and how many more times i have said that i can’t believe this is coming to and end. 

you don’t know how many pictures i have saved, nothing worthy or time or effort to anyone else, just because they make me remember my fondest moments. 

you don’t know how often i just open up the windows, step outside, or think of you, so i can appreciate the beauty of life, the little things. 

you don’t know what little things it takes to pull me from the depths, the things that make me feel God. 

bon iver and twinkling lights for the rest of the night

I rarely hold hands, and if I do I rarely do it the normal way. 

Correct my hand holding methods and you won’t ever get to again.

You don’t know me.

And odds are you aren’t trying to change it.

(via likepoison-inmyblood)