And I was positive that unless I got myself together
I would watch me fall apart
And I can't let that happen again
Cause then you'll see my heart
In the saddest state it's ever been
This should be more like an online journal.
Want to know a secret? This is the depth of my vanity and self-consciousness.
I'm terrified for spring break. Why?
Because I'm at a record high weight.
I know - by regular standards, I'm not fat. I know this. But compared to how I used to be and compared to other elite athletes, I'm so out of shape it is unreal.
And it's supposed to be easy right? You want to be toned, you want to be leaner, just eat better. Eat a little less. Make healthy changes. Have some self-control.
But for me, it's not that easy. And the scariest part for me is, it's all-consuming. What do I mean? I mean every time I walk past a reflective surface is an invitation to pick myself apart - how do my legs look today? If I stand up straighter will I look thinner? When people look at me do they see how fat I am? How could anyone want me when I look this?
And every moment of every day becomes what am I going to do at the next meal? How will I justify my bad choices to myself? Will I have any self-control? Will I hate myself even more after? What if I get hungry before then and can't control it?
I used to be bulimic. I hate labels and I don't know if I can really call what I was doing bulimia, but for simplicity's sake I was bulimic. I'd have periods of weeks where I was completely fine and making mostly good choices and then all of a sudden a couple of bad choices and then crushing guilt then before I knew it, I was stuffing my face with anything in sight until I was sick.
And then I would bring it all back. My toothbrush would glare at me from the corner, stained with my own self-loathing, simultaneously beckoning and repulsing me. I would throw up and keep throwing up until it hurt and until I was only getting rid of bile and water.
The funny thing is, you begin to know what works best - ice cream and peanut butter were great coming back up, Indian and cakes not so much.Then would follow the cleaning and swishing routine - gurgle with water, swish it around my mouth, drink a bunch of water, finish with some baking soda. I knew the repercussions of stomach acid - but I was smarter than that. I could thwart my own body's survival mechanisms. I could use my knowledge to beat my biological programming. Next I'd mop up the toilet seat, the ground around, and the bowl underneath cause the back of the toilet seat gets pretty gnarly too. When the water splashes, it has to go somewhere (although my personal favorite was gobs coming back and hitting my face). Disgusted yet?
Even funnier still is the fact that you get so good at hiding it - sometimes I'd run the shower when my roommate was home. Or wait until she went to bed. Or go somewhere else. I would literally trek across campus sometimes to find a bathroom where I could hurl in peace.
There was one time when I went into this bathroom in a student center and evidently forgot to lock the door. Someone barged in right as I was hurling up. The poor girl rushed out apologizing profusely while I gave a half-hearted smile and mumbled something like "It's ok" momentarily shocked out of my puke reverie. Staring into the pool of my own insides and waging a battle with myself whether or not to continue. Hating myself for doing it and hating myself more for not finishing. So of course I finished, cleaned myself up, then swore it was the last time.
How many times did I swear it was the last time? How many? Too many. Too many. Until I finally said I'm going to make a change and I got some help.
I'm not seeking sympathy in writing this - and I know that's cliched and is the equivalent of saying "I'm fine" when really nothing is fine at all. But as I'm writing this, I actually understand what people mean by saying that, provided they're being genuine. Take my word for it (for whatever it's worth) I am being genuine. I don't want sympathy I don't want to preach about how hard my life is or anything like that. All I wanted to do is show what it looked like to be in my mind and what it's still like in there.
See because unfortunately what I've learned through all of this is that once people get into negative thought patterns it's hard to break out. And when you know these thoughts are completely irrational, it becomes pretty scary up in there. But I'm not there anymore. I still have dark moments and a lot of moments of self-hate but I also better know how to deal with it now and I want to be totally better so I can talk about it and help other people. Sorry this is a long one.
Ok that's all I have on this for now,
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