Ok... I don't know why I feel like talking about this, but I do.

I've had an eating disorder since I was 11. That was a year after my mum died, and I guess it could have been set on by anxiety. I mean I hear the stuff about control all the time- people who cut back on food because it's the only thing they feel they can control in their lives- and I suppose thats true. But I think it's because I have always had shit shelf esteem. My family has always been obsessive about their bodies, talking about food, going on diets, and snidely putting each other down.

Basically I've felt like an awkwad, fat, ugly piece of shit my entire life, and still do. I've gone through many different eating disorders- first it was anorexia, then bulimia, back to anorexia for a while and now it's a mix of ed-nos (eating disorder not otherwise specified) and bulimia. A fair few of my friends know that I 'used to' have an eating disorder, only one knows I still do.

At the moment I'm sort of doing an experiment... seeing how little food I can exist on...

This didn't turn out how I planned... sorry. I just needed to vent.

The unspeakable has happened. Due to my pent up sexual energy, frustration with everyone in my family and general boredom- I exercised today. I never exercise.

But suprisingly enough, it did help with the extreme amounts of sexual tension coursing through my body right now (having not gotten any action in months and not being a fan of playing with myself). I went for a long walk/jog and it was a good feeling. Sure, nothing like getting laid, but I was huffing and puffing, blood was coursing through my veins and at the end of it my cheeks were flushed and I was in a happy, albeit sweaty mood.

Now heres a little confession- I have only had sex with one guy. It could be more, and part of me is desperate for sex, but part of me just wants to wait for the next guy to be worth it. Anyway, the after-exercise euphoria reminded me of lying in bed next to this boy, huge smiles on our faces, hot and sweaty and flushed, staring at the ceiling and holding hands while we breathed heavily, naked bodies entwined under the covers.

Of course, the first time was not so wonderful. It was cold and awkward and we were on a futon with no blankets to hide our shame (well, my shame). It was my first time, but not his, and it hurt a little and I was nervous and it was... weird. Afterwards I got dressed straight away and sat in silence while he kept asking if I was ok.

He is my favorite of all my boyfriends. He was sweet and so, so nice and very hot. He made me stop cutting myself, he actually made me feel beautiful, when every boy before him had re-enforced my low self esteem. He told his friends about me (even though he's 2 years older and at a different school. Well, he's finished school now). He called me every night and we would talk for hours and hours, lying in bed, talking about how much we missed each other.

We would watch tv, looking at each other out of the corners of our eyes, then when we could wait no more, we pounced on each other, and always ended up fooling around on my bed for hours. I remember the moment when I decided I loved him. I had fallen asleep in bed after a particularly passionate round of sucking/rubbing/licking/grinding/groping, and when i opened my eyes I saw him watching me, smiling. I grabbed him and kissed him as hard as I could and that just got us going again.

We still talk every now and then, but I just realised how much I miss him.

Reminising on better days...

I don't know if I spelt remenis right... In fact I'm pretty sure it's wrong.

My life is really boring at the moment. I'm not screwing anyone, I haven't gone to a party in forever... all I can do right now is study for my exams and dream about the school formal that's happening in 2 weeks. (I have my dress and shoes and I am super excited!)

So I was thinking about the last really good party I went to. It was months and months ago but it was awesome. Basically, I got there only knowing one person, but by the end of the night (and after several drinks) I was best friends with everybody. I was absolutely shitfaced drunk and everything was fun and awesome. I was dancing with people whose names I kept forgetting, and even after I was overcome with a fit of vomitting, fortunatly it was in the bathroom so no one saw and I went straight back to drinking.

Plus, I made out with a totally hot guy on someones bed. Drunk kissing is fun because your senses are somewhat numbed, your kissing extra hard and you don't even care that the guy is sneaking his hand up your shirt and groping you. There was this awesome detatched feeling... I knew what I was doing but it was more like I was watching someone else make out... not me. We probably would have had sex but I had my period and we kept getting walked in on while making out/grinding. Which made the walk of shame all the more awkward after he had to leave. The staring and laughing was almost unbearable until I drank some more, then I didn't care anymore and neither did anyone else.

Anyway I spent the night after I got home throwing up on the hour every hour. Despite the drama, throwing up and hangover, it was an awesome night. Except I haven't been invited to any parties by that friend since then. See, the one friend I knew at the start of the party was friends with the boy I made out with, and although he had a girlfriend, he was jealous and pissed when he walked in on us making out, although I failed to notice this in my drunken state. So I haven't heard from him since that night.

Good times.

I need to get some

I created this blog maybe a week ago, and I've been trying to think of something to write about. I've got my brand new laptop, which makes me feel very Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City. But I'm just not that interesting. However, I do have a lot of thoughts and nowhere to put them, so... here we go.

I have not had sex in a long, long time. To be perfectly honest, it's been more than a year. Yes, I know. I have barely made it through this year. I have gotten some action, but that was a few months ago... (fingers and mouths, no sex). I haven't even made out with anyone in months.

You see, I attend a Christian School. Yes, I'm a high school student but before you judge... I know most teenagers say this, but I feel so much older than I am. My mother died when I was 10. I was sexually, physically and verbally abused by a boyfriend when I was 13. My older sister has been working as a prostitute and stripper for almost 2 years. So sex is kind of a regular part of life. I hear wayyy to many stories with wayyy too much information.

So, anyway. I will be going overseas in January for 6 months, and while I am determined to screw some international boys, I don't know if another 2 months is even possible. Now I know a guy who wants to fuck me. I want to fuck him too. But... I don't want my friends too know because a) the majority of them are christians are even the ones who aren't will judge me anyway, and b) he's not the sort of guy that I would... introduce to my friends. He's not hot, but when we're around each other we have this amazing chemistry.

Heres the other thing- I'm not really into do-it-yourself. I don't like servicing myself except on very, very rare occasions. So I have a lot of built up sexual tension. Getting laid would probably be a huge relief... and honestly, I'm horny.

So the question nagging me at the moment is: To bang or not to bang?

And hopefully all these blogs won't be about sex... it's just what is on my mind right now. So... 'til next time.