Knock knock
Livejournal world, do you still exist?
I think about you sometimes, but for some reason tonight I needed to speak with you.
Remember me? As I look back on the entries I used to write, I don't. But sometimes it's nice to live in the past and remember. It's true, former self, you never forget.
But you do move on.
And when I moved on, I quit smoking. I became a personal trainer (again). I quit school and the idea of school (and it was a great choice for me). I learned how to love myself, and then I forgot, but I kept trying and I realized one will always have to "keep trying". I sort of came to terms with that.
And then, I got married. And we had a private ceremony, and a petting zoo, a taco truck and a table full of sweet things. And our friends came, and some of them danced, and some of them hugged me, and I don't remember most of it. But I remember that, despite how much I was dreading it (you know, all that attention and "you're beautiful!" bullshit, and the fact that we have collectively been conditioned to believe it will be the BEsT dAy EvEr!1!), it was the best day ever. Dammit. It was also the first day in my entire fucking life where I did not once (not once) think about my body size, the amount of calories I had ingested, the amount of calories I was burning, anything. Even in the past 4 years where I have enjoyed a pretty stable "recovery," I have had at least one thought where food, my body, or the status of my metabolism came into my brain space. Even for a fleeting moment...but it has happened almost daily. I have refused to interrupt my life or make changes based upon these thoughts, but I have had them. And that day, I didn't. Whaddya know.
Would it be crazy to start writing in this again?
How are you?
I think about you sometimes, but for some reason tonight I needed to speak with you.
Remember me? As I look back on the entries I used to write, I don't. But sometimes it's nice to live in the past and remember. It's true, former self, you never forget.
But you do move on.
And when I moved on, I quit smoking. I became a personal trainer (again). I quit school and the idea of school (and it was a great choice for me). I learned how to love myself, and then I forgot, but I kept trying and I realized one will always have to "keep trying". I sort of came to terms with that.
And then, I got married. And we had a private ceremony, and a petting zoo, a taco truck and a table full of sweet things. And our friends came, and some of them danced, and some of them hugged me, and I don't remember most of it. But I remember that, despite how much I was dreading it (you know, all that attention and "you're beautiful!" bullshit, and the fact that we have collectively been conditioned to believe it will be the BEsT dAy EvEr!1!), it was the best day ever. Dammit. It was also the first day in my entire fucking life where I did not once (not once) think about my body size, the amount of calories I had ingested, the amount of calories I was burning, anything. Even in the past 4 years where I have enjoyed a pretty stable "recovery," I have had at least one thought where food, my body, or the status of my metabolism came into my brain space. Even for a fleeting moment...but it has happened almost daily. I have refused to interrupt my life or make changes based upon these thoughts, but I have had them. And that day, I didn't. Whaddya know.
Would it be crazy to start writing in this again?
How are you?