Today I ran three miles. I ate very little for breakfast and felt relatively good about myself, despite the undeniable failure of yesterday.
Then I came home and ate a bit... Not a binge, necessarily, but I definitely ate more than I needed to feel full. Compulsive overeating, I've discovered, is pretty hard to accurately explain with mere words...If you've experienced it, then I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. Here, lemme rant. Please? All right then.
You know what I hate? Here are just a few things:
* "Oh, you are SO lucky! You're so thin, it must be nice." Two words: Fuck. Off. Seriously. I am NOT so thin, nor am I effing LUCKY. There is not an ounce of luck involved here, nor is there happiness or satisfaction or contentment. Thank you very much for checking your ignorance before you open your mouth.
* "Why can't you just...stop eating? When you're full, you know, just stop." RIGHT. If life were really that simple, that easy, do you think either one of us'd be here right now? Honestly.
* "You're beautiful, just like you are. You shouldn't compare yourself to others, it's not fair." All right, on this one...I'll give a little slack. It sounds like the speaker is genuinely trying to 'help.' Sort of. Thing is, we need more than compliments as we struggle with this; we need understanding and acceptance of the problem itself, not closed minds and outright denial of the disorder's existence. I have problems. I know I do. I have problems that prevent me from seeing ME the way you do. My issues don't let me see other people as just that...other people. Instead, many of these individuals...someone I see at the supermarket, a group of girls running past me at school, and of course, the models in the magazines... these people are aspirations, goals, women I desire to emulate in their appearance, weight, level of fitness, etc. They are idols and they are enemies; they are thinspiration and they are unattainable perfection, tormenting me in their beauty, that which I feel I am simply unable to achieve. *sigh* I'm done ranting. For now.
So today I didn't overdo it as badly as yesterday, but I did, once again, break my own rules, my own agenda, and that disappoints me. I've taken numerous steps today to try and proactively pull myself up out of this rut, this angst, before it spirals down into something so much deeper and darker because I know that's what waits around the corner if I let it overcome me. I'd prefer to repeat corny-sounding affirmations over and over to myself for hours, staring at my reflection in the mirror and telling the failure that looks back at me that she's beautiful. She's an intelligent young woman with numerous talents and goals, she's a wonderful mother, and she's beautiful. Ugh. I can hardly choke it out. But I do, because it's supposed to help. We'll see. Anything I can do to avoid the depression...the emptiness...the one that drives me to eat and even worse, drink...A lot. I won't do it.
What I WILL do is go running again tomorrow. I'll eat nothing else for the rest of the night except for celery, because I've already had more than enough of everything else for today. I will stretch for an extra long time tonight and in the morning before I run, as my shin splints are getting worse (and I'm still not willing to give up my cardio).
Time to go get the little one. I'm looking forward to her bright, excited smile as I walk in the door to pick her up; she loves me so unconditionally... She's my number one fan, and always will be. For that, I am inexplicably grateful.
Be well, all. Thanks for reading...(If, in fact, anyone is reading). Hmm. G'night.
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