To expand a bit: I identify as queer. I feel that labels such as lesbian or bisexual are far to confining, and view sexuality as a spectrum as opposed to an option A, B, or C type deal. I far prefer women to men, but am currently in a relationship with a male. There are few men that I find attractive, but there are one or two out there. I try to form relationships based on love and emotional security and stability, rather than pure physical attraction. I have been with my current partner almost two years & have known him all through high school. He is aware of my sexuality, and he himself identifies as bisexual.
During high school I struggled with bulimia. As a child, my mother was always reinforced a negative body image. I have memories of being made to run on a treadmill before I was ever allowed to eat. That stuff does this to a person, especially a young kid. When I was about sixteen I began to show signs of an eating disorder, and by the time I was seventeen it was full blown bulimia. By the time I was 19 it tapered away, and as of right now I've been in remission for roughly a year and a half. My weight fluctuated from about 230 lbs at my highest, to roughly 140 at my lowest. I'm stable now at 173, but that doesn't mean a relapse is impossible.
When I was a freshman in high school (so about 14/15) I began to cut myself. Self injury showed up initially when I was in the 7th grade, though after a very quick response by my school guidance counselors I was scared out of it for a couple of years. Still, by the time high school rolled around I was "back in the habit" so to speak. In retrospect, it's crazy how desperate I was for pain. I used ANYTHING to cut myself. My very first cut was done by a pointy edge of a broken off pen cap. It was less about pain and more about control. There was a lot of emotional pain in my life from sources that I couldn't control, and in an attempt to control my emotional pain I turned it into physical pain. My cutting, like my bulimia, peaked when I was about 19, and although I've had a few relapses since then, the most recent being just this past month.
I find myself always contemplating life, death, and the psychology of it all. I can spend hours sitting, staring off into nothing, lost in my own thoughts. My journal will consist a lot of that.