Crazy shit is happening. Something clicked in me recently. I don't want food. I love how it can taste. But I hate how it's making me feel. Maybe it's the diet pills... Maybe it's a million things... But when it comes to losing weight. Those who can... Do. Those who can't. Make excuses... I refuse to make anymore excuses. I refuse to let this be another one of those wannarexic epiphanies, Another promise of change. With no results. I don't care how long it takes, I don't care if it's a half pound a week, If I'm not gaining. And I'm losing its gonna be okay. I'm going to stop freaking out when I eat a little bit too much, I'm going to exercise twice as hard to make up for it.
I'm done sitting on my ass crying about how I hate my body. I'm done looking in the mirror and hating what I see. I don't even want mirrors around. I just want the numbers to start disappearing. I want numbers to leave and never come back, 10, 20, 30, 40 pounds, need to disappear.
I have a great boyfriend. Who deserves a thin girlfriend, who can at least keep up with him. I've decided I'm going to either walk or bike to work every day. Rain or shine. Unless I am running so late that I just can't make it. There is no reason for my motorcycle to leave the garage unless I'm on a joy ride. I'm going to walk to work until I can jog to work.
I have an Ana book, full of quotes, thinspo, and tips and reasons. I have a cupboard of diet pills and metabolism aids. There is no reason for me to be overweight. NO reason to be struggling with self hate when other people think I'm fine, NO reason to constantly be pigging out when I'm not even hungry. NO reason to suffer, when it's easy to fix.
I'm going to start getting thinspired, I'm going to thinspo the apartment, quotes everywhere.
I'm sick of reading everyone bitch about their lives. And do nothing to change it, girls think that just because they can write, and evoke emotion and understanding from others. That they can cry about their mediocre lives and do nothing to change them. I mean what about Nikki (Letters from Ana) That girl can write and her life is falling apart. But she's doing an amazing job of keeping it all together. Where are those girls? Why aren't they writing more? Admittedly, my life isn't horrible. Not one thing is really bad at this point. My life has been fucked up before, and I've been doing things to change it. And to keep it better. I have a lot on my plate, not nearly as much as some and way more than others.
I'm just striving for perfection. Same as all of you.
So to those people, that think this is all made up.
To those people, that think you don't have an issue, just because you aren't losing 5 pounds per week.
To those people that think if you DO eat, you HAVE to puke it all up, or you aren't disordered.
To those people that think there is actually a standard to a disorder, a weight, a bmi, a fat percentage, exact behaviors.
To all of those people who think if you don't fit the bill, then you're just weird.
To those people who think it takes more than an incessant want to be ridiculously thin.
To those people who think that just because someone can talk about how they feel about food and their body, that they aren't really TERRIFIED of their body changing, of gaining weight.
To ALL of those people who think we are crazy because we aren't JUST. LIKE. THEM.
To those people who think that eating disorders are just for celebrities, models, psychos, and those Straight A Athletes, with controlling parents.
To those people who think it's not just the girl next door, the cashier at Arby's, the waitress at Ruby Tuesdays, or that quiet girl hiding behind her glasses.
To all those people who think that it's not something that changes you for the rest of your life.
To all those people who think I'm fixable.
I'd never be this motivated to reach my perfection without you.