Hands across the water, heads across the sky


That’s a song that me and my dad jam to in the car. I know that isn’t the title, but that is my favorite part.

So about puff

Last week my puff got a really bad infection, he missed a week of work, which if you know my dad that is a huge deal, and he was in so much pain that he couldn’t sit up without me or my mom pulling him up and helping in walk. As time went on his infection got so bad that his body was so filled with puss you could see it at directly under his skin. It was like his body was a giant pimple. Which is gross but think of how gross it would be see it and not read it. So last Thursday he was like crying and yelling he was in so much pain so he went to the hospital Friday morning and they tried to drain most of the infection out and gave him antibiotics to get rid of the rest of the infection that was left. His doctor told him that he could have died if he had waited any longer so that was pretty intense. So 99% of the time, the antibiotics would have worked and there would have been no issue. Well, not for puff. By Saturday when he came home from the hospital from getting his fluids, he wasn’t feeling too well. This morning the infection was back full force. And classic puff, he refused to go to the hospital without finishing some work. we were furious. It was really tough to see him so sick, I have seen my dad go though a lot but it was nothing like he has been in the past few days. So he called his doctor and he got admitted. So now he is getting some intense shit to clear him out and then surgery in the morning.

On the guilt side, the reason why he couldn’t have the surgery today is because his body wasn’t clear enough. For those who don’t know, you typically have to have clear liquids 24 hours before you go into surgery and since this is super intense and risky because his body is so fragile, he had to take an extra day to have his surgery. Why couldn’t he have it today? What was the last meal he ate? Shrimp and grits. My dad is in pain, in the hospital, not able to have surgery when he needs it as infection fucking attacks his body because I had to have a fear food. Ughh. I normally don’t harbor a lot of guilt towards my dad, I am not the kind of person who is like “its my fault my dad has cancer” nope. no it is not my fault. but this is my fault. This is all my fucking fault. All because of food. Everything sucks because of food.

So I went to Corin’s house and got drunk. It was awesome.


We are Miley Cyrus. God I love Corin so much. He is so sweet and always puts me in a fantastic mood. And no. I did not go with my dad to the hospital, I was asked not to. So I went to my other family. They are so sweet. We made the real shrimp and grits (i’ll post a picture), chocolate cake, and wine. a lot of wine.


Boom. Does that look yummy as fuck? Yes it does, because it is the best shrimp and grits you will ever see or taste.

They got me the best gift ever. I got mickey mouse onsie pajamas. They bring whimsy to my world. They said that the unicorn sweatshirt is what inspired them to get these wonderful pajamas.


don’t act like you’re not impressed.

I have not told the hardmans about my eating disorder. She is one of the only people that has suspected it from the beginning so I don’t want her to know because in my mind it feels like I lost. Plus ED is all about control, someone knowing without you telling them makes you lose control. Anyways, so I walked in and she hugged me and looked at me and asked “Sarah, are you eating?”. What. Who asks that? I said yes but it kind of made me upset that she asked me that questions. First off, I am not freakishly thin because I feel like more people would be telling me this. This made me feel like a fat ass because even though she thought I was skinny, I had to say no. Because I am fat, I am eating like a pig and I keep gaining weight. Like I have said time and time again, if people notice every pound you lose how the hell can you tell me that people dont notice every pound you gain. I know what I am saying probably doesn’t make sense but that is the difference between a person will an eating disorder vs. someone who doesn’t. Which for that I apologize, I normally try to explain what I am feeling for people to understand because I realize it is complicated but I am emotionally exhausted so I can’t even think of the words to make what I am feeling make sense.

I am getting more and more anxious now for support day. I don’t know why I feel so strongly about this day but now that the focus is going to be even more on my dad because he is going to be in the hospital possibly for the rest of the time I am in Charlotte, I really wish I had someone there. Maybe it isn’t that I want support day but just a hug. I have been isolating so much lately besides family and the rare friend, I really spend all my time by myself or helping my parents. Or maybe I want to show other people that I am not crazy, that I am not the only person who eats and thinks like I do. MST mother fuckersss. So I guess in my mind support day is the only time I can think of where I would want to be around people. Like when you are a kid and you look forward to the weekend because it is the only time you can hang out with your friends, I guess that’s how I see support day. I am such a pussy. But I might have one of my lovelies be there. Shout out to Lindsay. Come home to chartown. You are missed 🙂

I dont wannnaaaa goooooo tomorrow. I have to wake up at like 4:30 to go and see my dad Honestly, I just want to be like, listen bitches. I know there is a chance I may be supplemented, but can you really just chill for today. My dad is filled with puss because of the fear food you wanted me to eat so fuck you and your boost. Like is it really that big of deal for my BMI to drop a couple ounces if I am still at a healthy weight. Unless they have another challenge breakfast, then I will be like hit a bitch up with some chocolate boost. Pancakes with 2 butters my ass. and syrup. I am still pissed. Let me let you into my mind, I have cut, burnt, and hit myself because of a pop tart a week after I ate it because I was that mad at myself for that 400 calorie breakfast. I am not trying to be like “look at my life, I am so badass because I express my pain through self harm” I am not badass. I am in mickey mouse onsie pajamas watching spongebob right now so not trying to say that I am badass.  I am trying to explain the hell that pancakes brings people with an ED. If pop tarts can do that, imagine what syrup can do. So I really don’t want to go. Plus I feel guilty being there while my dad is so sick.

These are the reasons why I smoke.

Once again, I apologize for spelling errors, I apologize if I don’t make sense, I apologize that I bombarded you with pictures of my life and I apologize that my blog is no fun.

Also, thank you for the sweet texts, snap chats and emails expressing your concern for my dad and my family. I am very lucky to have you all in my life.

Stay Awesome



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