I should go in the basement and get the clothes out of the wash.

It's nice to be home where I don't have to drive to wash my clothes or run them through the old wringer washer (YES that's how we wash clothes there until my parents move up there!)

It's nice to have the luxuries of today and it's nice to have peace and quiet while my sister is away teaching. Yet I realized today something.....

I can understand why people committ suicide. I was watching a show on Marilyn Monroe - her attempts at suicide and it got me thinking. I was thinking off handedly about how I want to come home, get a job and an apartment. I am planning on a apartment in Chicago and then I got a panick attack because I kept thinking of how I felt in Michigan and Disney. I felt so hopeless and felt that even though I am miserable living with my sister or my parents and complain about it, that I would equally not like to live alone. I felt such self-hatred as to how I can be so weak that I thought, hell now I can see why people kill themselves because wouldn't it be nice to not have to worry about this type of unhappiness?

Not that I would ever do such a thing, I'm more scared of dying than of living. Then I kept thinking, well damn maybe if I got a boyfriend, seriously, that I would be alright.

Maybe this is what I'm lacking. Yet, how can I even attempt to find one with my life how it is? Me, still a teenager in heart, with an adult mask on. This maskerade of hiding from relationships and using excuses has got to stop. Why am I afraid of committment? Am I afraid of men? I think I'm afraid of the intimidate times because I grew up with my mom telling me that men only want you for sex or money. So I grew up this way thinking that men are out to fuck me over. My sister is the same way, my mom made me believe that sex is a sin, dirty, it's only for marriage and children.

So is this why I'm so afraid to date? Is this why I push men away and ignore those looks across the room?

Is this why I hide myself in a sheath of fat so that men find me unattractive and now that I'm losing weight I am sabtogaing myself? Or is it because that I am finally losing weight because I'm trying to come out of this way of thinking?

It's a very trying thing, I am not normal in the world of dating, I'm scared, I'm terrified of dating. I'm scared to think of going out on a date and a man going to kiss me and me shying away because....? I don't know why, I'm old enough to do these type of things.

Yet, I don't.

What's wrong with me?

My dream is to get my apartment in Chicago, then begin on the dating scene somehow. There are more then enough men in chicago for me to have a few dates, lord they hit on me enough on the net and once in the field museum I got hit on, which made me want to run-away.

So for now, I will continue to lose weight and approach all topics and people like I do reporting, for when I'm reporting, I'm at my best, I've talked to the cutest of men easily and have been my ripe ol' self merely because I needed the story, I needed for them to like me. That's how I will approach life from now on: Everyone is a story and to everyone I'm the reporter who's trying to get it. It's as easy as that.

And yet I think maybe I have committed suicide in just the sense that I have aliened myself for so long, from so many and have missed out on so much, that I am truely dead sometimes to the world, my family, friends and to my self.... I need to keep from doing these inner suicides and stop being so emotionally unattached.

Weight loss for the week: 17lbs.

Current weight: 273

Starting: 290 (probably plus some too)

Current size: 22/24

Starting: 24/26

My sister, who always 'has to be the skinnest' left for work this morning, I crept in her room looking for my fan (it was HOT in my bedroom) so I saw a pair of capri Tommy Jeans size 22 sitting on her chair. I slowly took off my shorts and grabbed the jeans and slowly pulled them up. Around my hips they got a bit snug, "these won't fit," I thought, so I pulled them to my waist and was surprised I got them that far, "these won't button," my mind screamed; and then

I buttoned and zipped them up.

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