Pickin Me A Boquet

There are some things I just need to say…just need to get out of my head and down in some form of writing…then…if anyone still reads this I’ll give you a quick update. For the real deal, visit the blog. pinkcowgirl.wordpress.com.

 

Let me preface this by saying, don’t freak out. Don’t worry. I’m fine. Physically I’m fine.

 

I don’t think…you ever get over anorexia. Ever. Or maybe it’s just me that can’t ever get over it. I don’t DO it…but it’s still in my head. And I swear…do not leave me those "Don’t do that to yourself, it’s bad for you, get help" notes. I’m good. I fully realize what it does to your body…and believe me, I’m far from those behaviors. I’m talking about the mental aspect here.

Maybe it’s just me…maybe it’s my absurdly Type A personality…but I CANNOT get those thoughts out of my head. Maybe I just haven’t had enough therapy yet…but…I’m never happy. I wonder how many hours a day I’ll have to work out to get the body I want. (And if anyone freaks out about my health, I’ll come through the computer and smack you. I haven’t even thought about working out since Sunday. Shut it.)

It’s so sad that I have to keep inturrupting myself to attempt to avoid the stupid notes from people on OD who feel the need to comment when they don’t actually know me…so let’s do it this way…DO NOT COMMENT unless you have been reading this OD for more than a year…heck…don’t comment unless you know me via facebook or AIM.

Or just don’t comment. I’m not looking for comments. I just wanted to write this down where I wouldn’t lose it so I can talk to my therapist about it later.

SO. Back to the thoughts in my head.

I think…Ana is permanant. I…kinda don’t think I’ll ever get it out of my head. And…for people out there with family members with this issue…keep that in mind. Even if the symptoms are gone one day…I’ll bet you the mentality is still there.

Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s my perfectionism…but…I never feel good enough…ever. And it’s always a physical thing. I don’t worry about my grades or my intellegence…I don’t worry about my social interactions or if I said the right things or acted the right way in a situation…I worry about how I look. Not my clothes…not my hair or makeup…but my weight.

Always my weight.

The question is always in my head, do I look thin enough?

I don’t mean to ask it…I don’t mean to put it there…and most of the time I don’t even realize it’s there….but…that’s why I’m writing this. To point out that it is.

I think it’s worse than I tell people…because when I do let it out…people quickly get annoyed….and just so you know, it doesn’t help when you tell me to be quiet because I’m thin.

I only hear the "shut up" the why doesn’t register. I don’t hear it because I don’t see it and I don’t believe it. Vocally you might shut me up…but in my head…it keeps going.

I did it to Trace. We were at a concert a week or so ago…and I kept looking at the other girls…partially because I worry he is. Logically…I know he does love me and doesn’t want anyone else…but…the rest of me…maybe…emotionally…I worry. So…I look at the other girls…and I see who I can compete with. And it’s always a competition. I’m always looking for the girl I want to look like. And I’m always trying to figure out if I’m fatter or thinner than the girl that just walked by.

Please, don’t tell me I need help. Please don’t tell me that I’m beautiful. Please. I have a therapist. I’m trying. It’s not a magical process and you’re not going to fix it overnight. I appreciate your concern…but I’m not writing this for help. I’m writing this for me…and for my therapist…who I see next Tuesday.

I think I’m realiziing…that THIS is my biggest issue. This is what consumes me more than anything…and this is probably what needs work. Not my issues from Matt, not issues with mom, but MY issue with ME. That’s been there a long dang time…

And I’m also writing this for anyone who has dealt with an ED, or has a family member with one. Just…realize…what goes on in their head might be more than you’ll ever know.

Or it might not. I might be the only one. But just in case I’m not, I’m making this a public entry.

And any notes that venture towards irritating me will promptly be deleted so please don’t waste your bandwidth.

 

Oh. Update.

 

Grad school has bent me over her knee and spanked me.

Last day of student teaching is tomorrow. Thank Jesus.

Everything including my soul is due on the 11th.

I may have a life after then.

However I have no money whatsoever.

But I love my boyfriend. Like really love. Like permanant love. Like…cannot put in to words how wonderful he is for me and how much he’s helped me. Like…he’s got me and he can keep me as long as he wants me…and he could break my heart because I swear to GOD I’m done. I don’t want to date anymore. I want this guy. Just this guy. No other guy ever. Just this one. I want to hold on to him and I want to keep him and I want this man for the rest of my life. Period. End of story. I’m happy. I’m safe. I’m done.

Jenny. I need an update. I miss you. Catch me via facebook.