Sometimes...
Sometimes I don't want the world to see me. Sometimes there is nothing left for me. Sometimes I want nothing more than to be picture perfect, and all I can see are the things keeping me from that.
Sometimes are for this journal.
I have several others around the internet, but each of them is attached to people I don't want to burden with these kinds of sometimes. In deference to their happiness, in the interests of maintaining the relationships I have with them, in order not to become the pity case, I have this blog.
I have seen a psychiatrist for Mood Disorder - NOS -- bipolar with hypomania, minus the requisite length and consistent severity of cases. I have self-diagnosed myself as having BDD and ED - NOS with anorexic tendencies. My relationship with food is grotesque and supremely unhealthy, but sometimes I just can't say any words to myself that make me feel as if it's worth it.
I am teetering on the edge of lapsing into full-blown depression with an ED manifestation. There is too much out of control, too much that I feel I'm failing, and I can't stand to make that the case everywhere. With eating, I can control it -- I can be the better of the hunger pangs, I can be the better of my horrible body image, and I can make myself appear on the outside what I can only dream of being on the inside: beautiful.
I will never expect to be pretty. I just want only to be not-fat. I don't want to be the girl whose redeeming value is purely academic, who you have to look at through the lens of her accomplishments because it's clear she's too fat and too out of control to have anything else. I don't want to be the person someone likes "in spite of" -- I want to be the person someone WANTS to be associated with.
I only think that's possible if I reach my weight goals. I need to weigh 115 or less in order to be taken seriously. Until then, I am always going to jar people out of their positive regard of me because, among my other deficiencies, I am fat. You can't escape the visual reminder, no matter how "above it" you think you are.
I can't starve myself. I faint, but furthermore I KNOW that it's unhealthy, I know that it will kill me. Right now, I'm not at the point where I don't care about living. I WANT to live. I just don't want to live my life fat anymore. I feel like if I can just fix that then maybe everything else will come together.
I feel so alone, though. I have to have a separate journal just to talk about this stuff, because I weigh too much too have an eating disorder, and I'm supposed to be the strong one everyone else comes to for advice... :(
Sometimes are for this journal.
I have several others around the internet, but each of them is attached to people I don't want to burden with these kinds of sometimes. In deference to their happiness, in the interests of maintaining the relationships I have with them, in order not to become the pity case, I have this blog.
I have seen a psychiatrist for Mood Disorder - NOS -- bipolar with hypomania, minus the requisite length and consistent severity of cases. I have self-diagnosed myself as having BDD and ED - NOS with anorexic tendencies. My relationship with food is grotesque and supremely unhealthy, but sometimes I just can't say any words to myself that make me feel as if it's worth it.
I am teetering on the edge of lapsing into full-blown depression with an ED manifestation. There is too much out of control, too much that I feel I'm failing, and I can't stand to make that the case everywhere. With eating, I can control it -- I can be the better of the hunger pangs, I can be the better of my horrible body image, and I can make myself appear on the outside what I can only dream of being on the inside: beautiful.
I will never expect to be pretty. I just want only to be not-fat. I don't want to be the girl whose redeeming value is purely academic, who you have to look at through the lens of her accomplishments because it's clear she's too fat and too out of control to have anything else. I don't want to be the person someone likes "in spite of" -- I want to be the person someone WANTS to be associated with.
I only think that's possible if I reach my weight goals. I need to weigh 115 or less in order to be taken seriously. Until then, I am always going to jar people out of their positive regard of me because, among my other deficiencies, I am fat. You can't escape the visual reminder, no matter how "above it" you think you are.
I can't starve myself. I faint, but furthermore I KNOW that it's unhealthy, I know that it will kill me. Right now, I'm not at the point where I don't care about living. I WANT to live. I just don't want to live my life fat anymore. I feel like if I can just fix that then maybe everything else will come together.
I feel so alone, though. I have to have a separate journal just to talk about this stuff, because I weigh too much too have an eating disorder, and I'm supposed to be the strong one everyone else comes to for advice... :(