Fascion.

My obsession with Lookbook.nu is doing a good job of fostering an eating disorder. Since my depression has settled in, I've noticed my mid-section and thighs getting...well...larger. I haven't gained any actual weight; I just look like shit. And I spend most of my down time looking at fashion blogs, Lookbook, and various tumblr sites of girls who are much prettier and more artistic than I am. And even though I love excellent fashion and gorgeous photography, this hobby has become pretty depressing.
It's made me compare myself to every other woman in the room, without even thinking. It's made me count calories and second guess every snack. How can anybody's thighs be that impossibly small? How much better would my clothes look on me if I lost two dress sizes? I see the thin, smiling, $500-shoe-wearing girls on these sites and I am convinced that they are 500x happier than I am. They're from the French Riviera. They look perfect in everything. Thousands of people around the world await their next postings; they are true It Girls. And I am jobless, directionless, and pointless.

I'm gonna go drink some coffee.

Wee!

The ever-talented Ann Piper painted two portraits of me!

Hearts.

"Mrs. Landingham! What's next?!"

VSW

"I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier 'til this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that — everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer. I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been. V."

My girlfriend.

Berkeley Chapman is worthless and does not deserve friendship or love. You win!

Better?