Annoyed – I started this entry a while ago and it appears to have been lost as it’s not in my drafts or anything 😦 Nothing is ever as good the second time. But let’s see if I remember where I was…
I gained TEN FUCKING POUNDS in the past two weeks. I am a giant fat blob. And my family says I look so “great” and “healthy” and al that bullshit that I know means they can see I’ve gained and am no longer underweight. Well I don’t want to look great and healthy because I’m NOT. I’m not great, I’m not healthy – I’m fucking miserable and goddamn I just want someone to notice. It is so completely exhausting to pretend everything is perfect all the time. And of course the more people think everything is great the more they come to expect of me and the perfectionist in me just can’t seem to admit that anything is wrong. Well something IS wrong; I’ve been slowly killing myself for almost a decade and have only had anyone show concern ONCE, when I was at my lowest weight way back when I’d only been dealing with this shit for a year. So I guess I need to get back to that weight.
It’s funny, I had almost started to think that maybe there was such a thing as too thin, that I could be happy at a normal/healthy weight and eat regular meals and all that jazz. Ironically, the weight that I now consider way too high is a weight that I would have killed for five years ago when I was mostly binging without purging and got up to my heaviest. But I can’t. I’m an all-or-nothing person, and that applies 100% to my eating. I’m either eating everything or eating nothing, and eating everything will take me way beyond a normal weight. I refuse to buy larger clothes, and have people say “oh she used to be so skinny.” Fuck that. When girls get fat it’s just assumed we’ve “let ourselves go” but that nothing could possibly be wrong – so we’re dismissed as the fat girl who used to be thin but still held to the same expectations in all other aspects of our lives. But if I get back to being really skinny, as I’ve seen in the past, people notice. People care. People want to take care of you and love and nurture you and shelter you from life’s hardships. And most of all, people finally see that no, everything is not okay.
I’m not okay.
I don’t need to be nurtured and fawned over, but jesus would it kill people to act like they gave a shit? Even my fiancé, who sees me gobble up tubes of cookie dough right before I go to “wash up for bed” and then sees me only order a salad when we go out, never asks how I’m doing or shows any concern that something might be wrong. But then again he’s a giant alcoholic so he’s got his own shit to worry about I suppose…
Is this what being a “grown up” means? Being left alone with your shit with no one caring what you’re doing as long as it doesn’t affect them? Well frankly, that’s a load of shit. I want someone to care, and if they won’t do it now then I will fucking make them care.
Going low-carb starting tomorrow. Which basically means I won’t eat much, as I’m already a pescetarian and consist largely off grains (plus peanut butter mmmm). But living a “low-carb lifestyle” is totally acceptable among my circle, so honestly they’ll probably encourage it. Also going to cut back on the morning overtime so I can get back into running before work. And the bag of Reeses that I accidentally left in my desk over the weekend and so couldn’t finish in this last binge will be given to the sweet little cleaning lady who loves chocolate.
Let’s see how long until someone notices ANYTHING.