So I missed a weeks worth of Samoan classes. And my life has been full of drama.
I have an assignment for that class to keep a journal in Samoan but the problem is that the teacher specifically said
I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT YOU GUYS PERSONAL DRAMA
In case you haven’t noticed, my life IS a drama. Therefore I will probably miss my third journal this week because I am completely not comfortable with telling her anything about my personal life right now, and she doesn’t want to know anyways because it is ALL drama.
Do you remember my guy friend Mullah as in $$$$ as in Money? I actually got two hugs from him this week and I am feeling very very vulnerable right now and like I want to grab all the people over here that I care about and crush their ribs. I don’t know. I just really feel a strong need to connect with people right now because I’m feeling fragile and scared after that last relapse because as I knew all along I need to replace my addiction with connections to people.
And I knew touch was going to be a major player in that formula. And yet it’s the hardest hardest thing.
Did I mention I punched a door this week and I think I may have damaged my hand?
Anyways back to healthful coping mechanisms I think I’m feeling scared because the relapse reminded me just how delicate I am right now as much as I hate being called delicate and I hate feeling delicate and damn delicate rr- and then we got bills. Bills from the nutritionist and insurance is STILL deciding how much of our souls it wants to cut out and devour and the nutritionist bill was… un poquito expensive. And I applied for a job as a figure model and got it but I was thinking about it and I was like 5 hours on the bus to get weighed once a month, no specific meal plan, I don’t think it’s worth it anymore. Plus I have my recovery record and my therapist can monitor my weight just fine.
Heck I am sure Samoan village would monitor my weight if I asked them to.
But I know I have an eating disorder so I’m like “I don’t know how I’m eating is it enough?” and “I am going to dance for just a half hour”
Three hours later…
I have a diet from my old nutritionist that I can use as a model and it worked perfectly last time and I could use containers to make sure my portions are fine. And then I’d need to sit down and come up with an exercise plan. And stick to it. And continue to stick to it. No matter how tempted I am to deviate.
I know I can do this but I am scared because my eating disorder makes my perception of doing well extremely skewed. I almost cry when I look at old pictures of myself pre-anorexia and now. Most people would say dang girl you look so fine now but I cry because I used to be happy and now I look amazing, but I’m not happy.
And I had to really think about posting this picture because I don’t want to trigger anyone and yes this is what I look like zero photoshop. And here’s the thing. I’d get blasted by a lot of people for posting this saying it is slutty or whatever.
I’m not here to seduce anyone. If reading about anorexia turns you on, get yourself to a doctor. I’m not here to be slutty or sell my body.
This picture is here because for such a long time I have been lying. I have been pretending that it’s not so bad. That I can live with anorexia and everything will turn out okay, but I had a reminder last week that with anorexia I will never live my life to the fullest if obsessive starvation, cutting, and over-training rule me.
I hugged my guyfriend because I realized life is so precious and I was so close to the brink of losing it. I’m about to turn 20 and I’ve nearly attempted suicide 5 times. I want to live. I want to live.
And because I am so afraid. I am so afraid of losing it all to my anorexia. I am so afraid of losing control and ending up back in treatment. And in that moment right before I called my guyfriend over and gave him my utility knife I remembered my reason for living. It’s love.
I may be one of the most broken, messed up, bitter people you’ll ever meet. But if it is going to be my eating disorder and self harm that lands me back in the hospital, or kills me, I’m not going anywhere until everyone in my life knows how much I love them.
So here’s an example of someone finally telling the truth.