Nothing that I'm proud of & Knocked back into reality

Two posts eventually merged into one, as I fear this will otherwise appear to be too much of a self-help blog.

1. I hesitated a lot about this post, but it's my little space, and I don't want to hide here, I hide everywhere else and that's enough. I'm feeling so screwed up today. Well, actually for about a week now, all because I know, see and feel the extra weight on me. I let the scales control my life, as sad as it is. But I'm not delirious about the world, I know how demanding it is, I know it's idea of beauty and I know that I do not qualify. And that is the worst part of me. If I wrote here all my secrets, I would probably sound crazy for letting this one be the one I care for most. How is it that something so shallow is more worrying a thing  to me than my imprisoned father, for example? But that's the way the mind works. That's the way my mind works. I take things that are so little and make them so big.

I feel the pressure so much right now because my family will be here in just a few days. My sister is coming on friday, and I know what she'll think, and how I'll feel, and I'm scared. With one look at me she'll know I gained weight. She won't say much, but I know her too well to believe anything different. And I know how I'll feel, standing next to her and introducing her to people and being the 'fat' one. I am actually mortified at the thought.

I hate how the world has become this, I hate seeing so many girls all over the internet talking about dieting and starving and their constant insecurities, I hate how we let people mess with their lives so much all because of some ridiculous beauty standard. I've done a project on the modelling world before and I know how it works. I know how all these beautiful women we admire starve themselves, and torture their bodies, drive them into a grave even, and still we feel inadequate.

Maybe it's the disorder talking, but I don't really believe so. It's me facing the truth, avoiding the mirror, afraid of the weekend. I am so afraid, and a part of me is searching for that strength and absolute determination I had months ago, to justify the means with the end, but I'm not finding it, and that scares me too. I've lost that desperation that used to define me, and I know that it's saving me, but a part of me hates being saved.

The night feels dark today, and I feel everything but adequate.

2. I just had an epiphany. What the hell am I sitting here for and feeling sorry for myself?! I'm not a victim, and I'm not someone who needs to be pitied for things I personally imposed upon myself. And that's just the thing. It's so easy to sort your life out and make it exactly what you want you want it to be. Just shut your mouth and stop eating crap, do your work, dress the way you want, get a job, and work towards everything. Why is it that something so simple is so hard to realize?! Why do I get these urges to pity myself and console myself and feel miserable, and feel like the whole world is crashing down on me, when it's not? It's not hard to get what you want. And I've lost 20 pounds before, why can't I lose more? Of course I can, and it doesn't take a genius to figure that out.

You know what's funny? Just as I was having my little breakdown, feeling like an ogre and hating my whole world, no one in my life had any idea. No one knows what happens behind closed doors. And to my friends I am this funny, confident and not-so-ugly girl who must be living the dream. It amazes me how deceived we can be sometimes. And as I checked my facebook after writing my last post, my friend wrote something so sweet that I was just surprised at how different things are from what they seem. I asked whether I can bring my sister to a party he's throwing this weekend, and he wrote back saying 'only if she's as pretty as you'. I smiled and it felt so nice to be complimented, and then I realized how no one here actually knows about my insecurities. It would never even cross their minds to think how I could be sitting here and writing messages of hate to myself. So why not live up to the expectations?

I don't want to go back to a life of ED, and I won't, because the way that messes with your head is just terrible. The misery you feel every single day, it doesn't stop, it's this endless battle that you fight each moment, and the only way to win is to forfeit. I was lucky to get out alive once, and I don't want to take that chance again. Playing with fire never brings to anything good.

So here I am, sat in my room with a dim light in the corner, miles away from perfect, but just about to embark on a road trip precisely towards that. I'm thinking of a line from 'The importance of being Earnest', I hope I'm not perfect, that would leave no room for improvement. And I have so much room for just that. And I'm excited. Again. I know where I want to be, and soon I'll be there. No reason to panic.

So all in all, I apologise from the frantic panic attack, but I'm glad it didn't last long, and I knocked myself back into reality. Now I can focus.