My Playstation has turned Tyler and I into 13 year old siblings lashing out at each other in all the right ways.
So…. I had sex with my close friend’s roommate. How was your weekend??
I liked myself for some time now but I think I’m falling in love with me. I no longer want to be other people. I want to be greater versions of myself.
Just to remind yourselves you’re worth it, HP fans ;)
Today, for the first time in three years, I bought a new pair of jeans.
I am devastated.
I woke up this morning at an ungodly hour for a day off. My first inclination was to stay in bed all day and, in all honesty, not eat. But instead, I decided I wanted some retail therapy and to blow my grocery money (a mere $20) on something to help me feel good about myself. My wardrobe is made up entirely of “sick” clothes. Clothes that by all rights I should not be able to fit into. I am not 100 lbs anymore and haven’t been for a long time now. But I still haven’t let go of what that number stands for.
I went to T.J. Maxx, the site where I had my first realization that I had an eating disorder my freshmen year of college. Now, a 24 year old woman, I knew as I walked in the store that this would probably ruin my day off. Sure enough, I left the fitting room with the familiar chokehold on my throat that had seized me 6 years ago. But instead of running out and crying to my mother on the phone, I bought some soup and Christmas chocolate and walked home. I cried all the way. I cried when I got home. I ate the soup, I ate chocolate, and I went to sleep for 6 hours. I woke up, and now I’m crying some more.
Anorexia is a disease. It is an addiction, and when you choose recovery, you have to deal with symptoms of withdrawal. Addiction tames you before it hurts you. As awful as it makes you feel, it also makes you feel high and invincible. Nothing can touch you. I miss that. I miss feeling like I had skin made of steel. Now I just feel ripped open and vulnerable with mangled guts for anyone to sink their hands into.
So yes, I am devastated. I know that is a strong word to use in regards to the simple act of buying new clothes. But to someone with an eating disorder, it’s not just a pair of jeans. It is a scarlet letter burning, ”I’m not good enough.” Now they’re sitting untouched in a bag at the end of my bed waiting to see if I’ll be strong enough not to return them and exchange them for bad habits.
Despite all the pain, the loss, the things that never went as planned, do you ever look at your life in awe? I’m floored by the twists and turns and the countless moments that despite their seeming impossibility, passed, only further shaping us into the seasoned soldiers we are today.
What hurts the most is that I’m not some random, drunk girl you accidentally hooked up with one night. I am your friend. Was, may be a more appropriate word now. This is not how you treat your friend. If you’re rejecting me, then for fucks sake just do it. I will eventually move on. But I cannot handle this perpetual limbo you’ve cast me off into. It hurts too much.
I am so tired of people telling me they love me and that I am an amazing girl, and yet don’t back it up. Dan, Zack, and now Greg. If I’m so wonderful, then why are you treating me like shit? I’m starting to think that maybe I’m the problem… which is absolutely crazy because I have done nothing wrong! I am beautiful and smart and talented, and do not deserve to be treated this way. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a girl as amazing as me.
story of my life. if you figure out the answer, pass it along
Will do, but I wouldn’t hold my breath on that one… *sigh*
I adore when I read a used book and parts are underlined. It’s like the book’s previous owner left a little piece of themselves behind and what meant something to them.
I never know when to bluff and keep my hand to myself or lay out all the cards…