Weak and Powerless

So, now that I am no longer working and I still have one whole month left before I move and start school, there are a few fears on my mind. I want to share them in the hopes that I can get some advice on the matter–and because I just need to talk about them and I can’t to people in my life. I hate that I have to hide this, but I just do.

Warning: This post concerns struggles with weigh and eating. If this triggers any thoughts or will harm recovery from an eating disorder, then I advise you to proceed with caution. Or not read at all. I won’t mind.

Work has kept my days very busy, and I haven’t had to worry very much about what and how much I am eating. I know that I have not been eating very healthy these past couple of weeks, but I am trying to make up for it. The fact that All I wanted on my birthday was chocolate and ice cream did not help. I do not want to weigh myself for fear of that number. I wish I wasn’t so afraid of the scale.

Since the next month is just going to be me and my house and my kitchen, I fear that my habits will return to being the same from past summers. I get bored sitting and doing nothing, so I eat. I cannot do that. I know it is not good for me to snack all of the time. I do not want to eat cheese-its and gold fish and chips all day. The thought sickens me. Even if I didn’t feel the need to lose weight, I know I can’t be snacking that much. Especially because those snacks are not healthy.

I know that getting out of the house and doing things will help me with this problem, but Edie is leaving, Gracie is leaving, Steph will be gone at the end of the month…and to be honest, there are not very many exciting things to do in town that do not involve food–or spending money. I cannot be buying things that are not necessary for college. I do not have the money to splurge. I am worried what I will slip into.

I would work out and exercise, but the treadmill is in the room behind my garage, a room that is too hot to handle. I suppose I could substitute WiiFit or Just Dance instead. That could be fun. But then what if that gives me the idea that, since I exercised, I can eat more than I normally would.

I still am not happy with the way I look. I do not feel pressure from other women–at least, not really. I know I will never have a six pack or anything. But I do not like my thighs. I may have a thigh gap, but it is not enough. My legs jiggle, and I have accepted that, but I do not like how much they jiggle.

I am so insecure about myself. People say I have no reason to be, but I cannot bring myself to believe them. All that can make me happy is..is…losing weight being thinner No. I hate those answers. I don’t want those things to be the only reason I can be happy. And I have lost weight in recent months, but I barely see a difference. You are the last person to see the change in your looks, but I can’t even tell in pictures. Maybe that’s why I don’t want to eat anymore, because I want to see a change. I need to see a change. That’s it: I need to see some sort of change before I can accept myself. Will that ever happen?

Before, I aimed for 110 pounds, but now I want to weigh less than that. That is bad. But I do not care anymore. I do not feel good about myself. I am short and skinny, so my weight should reflect that and I do not think 110 makes the cut. That is the max. But I am not sure if I can get below that number, because I know how bad that can be for my body. The average body needs about 1,500 calories to simply carry out every day bodily functions. Since I am smaller than the average person, do I need less? I am not sure. I do not know if I want to find out. I feel like most days I do not get that amount. Maybe close, but not quite. But my organ systems can shut down if I do not get enough nutrients. The first will be my period–at first, that doesn’t seem like such a bad thing, but I know how scary it is to miss your period. I missed it for two months in eighth grade and I was nearly convinced I was the Virgin Mary reincarnated. But now…what if my reproductive system shuts down and I can’t have children in the future? That scares me.

I have all of these fears about what would happen if I do develop a severe form of anorexia–or anorexia at all–but do they scare me enough to give up on losing weight? I still want to be thinner.

That raises another question: do I have anorexia now? Am I developing it? I do not know. I want to do research, but it will scare me and make me all to aware of the situation and what I could possibly put my body through. I do not want to be a twig; I like my curves, but I am not happy with my appearance now.

Why, though? I girl I saw at work (a kid taking a class after summer camp was over; I did not know her) saw me and came back in the room to tell me she thought I was pretty. It put a huge smile on my face. Partly because I had no idea who this girl was. Then it happened again with another girl I did not know. These complete strangers think I am pretty, but I can’t. It is not like I think I am ugly, I am just not happy. My friends have told me I am pretty, my ex thought I was beautiful–thinks? I don’t know, I still think he’s cute. Ashley, stop thinking about him. Okay, I am done. The point is that I know I am not ugly. I think I am pretty, but I do not believe I am as beautiful as I could be.

I wish I could make peace with my body and stop fighting it. I ignore my stomach growls (usually because I truly am not hungry, my stomach just likes to talk), I skip over food commercials, etc. I wish I didn’t do those things; I even read recovery blogs–well, one in particular because I know the girl–but none of that changes my mind on the situation.

My fear is what s going to happen when I am left alone in my house, with all that food at my fingertips. I fear both that I will eat it and that I will not. I am so conflicted. I am afraid that these thoughts will limit my ability to live my life. After going through all the drama with my depression–and still going through it–I want to live and be happy. This whole weight disorder I am developing, I believe, is stemming from my depression. These thoughts are ruling my life and I want it to stop. But at the same time I don’t.

My brain is poisoned. But not from drugs or alcohol, from the Dark Place. I know it still gets to me, but part of me doesn’t want it to stop. It is common, routine. What happens when I can fully ignore it? I am afraid of that, too. I am afraid of getting over my fears. I am powerless against them. I am powerless.

I give into these thought so easily now, and I am weirdly okay with it. I wish I wasn’t and I hate that I am, but I am not doing anything to stop it. I am really messed up. I feel like this is a disease that I cannot stop, that I cannot cure. I hate this side of me, but I am not changing. Why? Why not? I do not know. I am sick in a few forms of the word.

What am I doing? -A


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