I’m going to apologize in advance for any lack of grammar and eloquence this post may contain. I’m emotional and in my experience, those things tend to go out the window when I’m in such a state.
I either want to be locked away so no one can see me or I want someone to wrap their arms around me and smother every bit of doubt pulsating through me with kisses and snuggles. A tad contradictory, I know. But I feel like such a nuisance and am embarrassed of my disordered thoughts and momentary breakdowns. All of a sudden, I feel utterly disgusted with my body and life for reasons that probably have nothing to do with my weight, but of course, I will fixate on. Why? Because weight has a simple solution. Exercise, starve – problem solved. Associate weight with any other problem and with every pound you lose, your problems will shrink as well.
That’s how eating disorders work. Or at least, one way they work. Eating disorders and depression are far too intricate to have just one explanation. Either way, it’s just a lie presented in a pretty little package begging to be unwrapped, and right now I feel like a 4 year old waiting to rip open every present under the Christmas tree.
I’m scared. I thought I was doing so well. I exercise moderately. I eat moderately. I’ve been feeling good and confident. Then I go out and socialize, indulge in things that I like, and then feel like utter shit after. I just – asdfghjklasdfgwhatthefuck?! Is this how life is always going to be? Take a couple days off from exercising and suddenly I’m the victim of self-abuse? Has the progress I’ve made these past 3 months been an illusion? I don’t think so. Then whyyyyyy? Will I ever get to a place where I can do things without a free pass from exercising or starving? A place where if something unexpected or bad happens, I don’t immediately fixate on my body and beauty. I just can’t imagine a world like that. Not today at least…
I’m grateful for the growth my struggles have given me, but god dammit, I hate this fucking disease. I hate my polluted blood. There are days where I just get so mad that this happened to me. Days where I do nothing but cry over the person I might have been if it had been different and pine after the years I’ve lost to this disease. I want it gone.