"A binge, and a purge, and all's right with the world."
The ditty still rings loud and clear in my head when I need it. Sharp and looming, like an old carousel song. In some ways comforting, but also a haunting sound as it echoes repeatedly in the dark.
This weekend was terrible for me, but it was nothing I could even share with those around me. All they saw was me being moody and angry, but it's better than the reactions of the alternative of telling them.
I am miserable.
With my body, as usual... I used to just hate myself because I looked fat, but now, I hate myself because I look fat and old. White hairs are springing up on my scalp, my completion looks like wrinkled paper, and cellulite is breeding on my thighs. My arms look flabby, and my stomach and things jiggle more than they ever have. I need to start working out mercilessly, but instead I just eat and eat and eat until I make myself want to vomit. I punish myself for how I already look...
"Oh, you want to be lazy and disgusting, then let's really do it!"
Sometime I manage not to see what I look like and just enjoy myself, and other times it consumes me with how poorly I look. I was doing well being vegan, but suddenly, the "I'll be good tomorrow" mentality came up, and I can't make it LEAVE.
I've spent literally years of my life putting off making myself look better, and I wasted my youthful years being fat. Now I'm old and just trying to look pretty, without the physical ability to do it as easily.
I'm old. I'm thirty. And I gave up the fuck boy opportunities this week, and I'm proud of myself for that, but I also fear that their presence is what keeps my confidence to maintainable levels. I didn't hear from Adam for 2 months, and suddenly, he texts me apologizing for things that happened a very long time ago, and asking me out on a date.
"They always come back."
I was right. With him, at least... I'm always right on this with the ones that matter emotionally... It was nice to hear and very tempting, but I know what it would have done to me mentally in regards to CS.
I said no. Because I have to choose what life I want, and I choose him.
Even though this weekend wasn't easy to do that. I wanted to DRINK. I wanted to self-destruct and use bad coping, and get so fucking wasted that I forgot how ugly I felt. I wanted to go be around drunk older men who would make me feel young and pretty again. I wanted the relativity. I wanted a different perspective.
I was frustrated and frustrated with CS for not seeming frustrated. I wanted to talk about it, but couldn't. Because this is his vice, and not mine. But it sucks, because I fucking miss it, but if I tell him that, it will devastate him. He doesn't want me to give up a lifstyle I want, but that's what living with him entails. I have to give up the things that are bad for me and do actual work...
And as much as I've done that, I'm not done. I clearly still need to improve, and that realization fucking SUCKS, but there it is, hidden in my blog, as usual... It always sums up for me eventually, and this one annoys me.
It's a journey, and I need to start remembering that.
Tomorrow's step of the journey is to get the eating back in order, and then just give it a little time. And then no more waiting for tomorrow with my physical body. It's time to focus on that a while and let the mental do it's work on auto-pilot.