One of these days…

I promise… one of these days I will (wo)man up and write a post on “my story.”  I had every intention of honoring this past week by challenging myself to develop a little piece on my history with ED (or in my case, EDs plural).  The truth is, I wussed out like I always do when I discuss this issue and pretend it isn’t there.  Note that I wrote “isn’t,” as in the present tense, versus “wasn’t” which would imply that Ive recovered.  Tonight I can’t bring myself to share my battle and details in too much depth-and knowing how “triggered” (totally hate that word, thanks IP) I fear what I might conger up were I to entertain y’all (well, all one or two of you who might read this, haha) with the nasty details of my pastand present history.  I think its exactly that… the fear of my sharing being nothing more than entertainment.  I thought it might be a good challenge for myself, or perhaps a means of being a supportive blog friend with whom to empathize.  But will it? 

Instead of sharing the plot of my life story or rather, my ED story, I felt inclined to let out some much needed aggression and frustration on my keyboard by listing a few things about my struggles that will hopefully remind you (and me) why this week is so significant and why no one deserves to lead such draining and devastating existences.

WHAT EDS BROUGHT ME

  • I’m physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually EXHAUSTED.
  • I’m only comfortable being uncomfortable.
  • I crave hugs, companionship, pleasure, warmth, love, etc.  but strictly deny myself all of these elements of a beautiful life.
  • oh ya… Im really tired.
  • My mind gets its jollies off constantly judging my every flaw-which in its eyes, are endless.
  • My family is almost as sick and tired of my shenanigans as I am.
  • If I could re-write Julie Andrews’ “Favorite things” from the Sound of Music, it would consist almost solely of food related articles.  Yet, I choose to either deny myself of or abuse myself with these glorious favorites versus enjoying them.  Makes sense, right?  Hurt yourself with some of the things that might make you feel great?
  • Did I mention that I was spent?  I did?  Well, I am…
  • I’ve spent the majority of my life “too busy dying” and rarely ever living.
  • I’ve never had a boyfriend.  I wallow in my own pathetic loneliness and feel bad for myself while hibernating in my own company.  Sure fire way NOT to get that boyfriend.
  • Its convinced me that Im so stuck in this sick way of life that theres no sense in taking my motivation all the way to being recovered.  Lord knows its a real blasty where I am now, who cares about being happy anyway?  (Im really hoping you can pick up on the bits and pieces of scattered sarcasm throughout this post).
  • Despite years of self talk, therapy, IP, OP, blog world, etc., telling me its not about the food or the looks; I can’t let go of the belief that were I to have that bangin’ Scarlett Johanson bod and confidence to boot, I’d be all set and ED free. Pshaww.
  • I. AM. REALLY.  TIRED.

Thanks for letting me spill a lil.

 Also, I would love to know if youre interested in me sharing some of the details to give yall a better idea of who I am, where Ive been and what I hope to achieve with this blog. Please comment with your thoughts/suggestions. 

Peace and Love

namaste

MA

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1 Comment

  1. traynharder23 said,

    June 20, 2010 at 9:43 am

    no worries, i feel like ranting a lot. i’m constantly judging myself, pinching myself here and there. it SUCKS.

    i just want to cry sometimes because i feel my life will always be the same and suck. that’s probalby why i, too, never had a boyfriend. because i don’t love myeslf, and when you love yourself, then you are open to being loved and loving others.


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