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Hi there,
I bought a new book today. It's called Wasted, it's a memoir of the author's struggle with anorexia and bulimia. I bought it at the campus bookstore where they are having their end of the year sale. (25 %off everything, think I may go back for more.) As usually happens when I read, this book is making me think. I'm not even 30 pages into it and already I'm depressed. It's a very heavy book.
Making me think about my relationship with food. Also making me think about my self image and about losing things.
I have this visualization in my head that depicts my needs. Whenever I'm scared or really sad, I feel it in my stomach. It's a hollowness, a shakiness, an emptiness that can spread throughout my body. So I picture all my needs desire and emotions, all my wants, residing in my stomach. My stomach is this hollow cave. There are no organs, no intestines, nothing but empty space, blackness. I have always imagined the things that fulfill me filling that space. The things that bring me the most happiness fill me up in my middle. I have a picture of meeting my soul mate one day and having them un-zip my stomach, crawl in, fit perfectly into all the hollow crevices, and seal himself up in there. Thus I continually look for the person who will fill me up, make me whole.
Anyway, I use food to fill that hole, at least temporarily. Like so many other people, when I'm depressed I eat. The food comforts, fills me. Makes me feel comforted, full, loved. But after stuffing myself I feel guilty, like I shouldn't have indulged. I shouldn't have given myself that comfort, that I shouldn't need it.
I used to not be able to eat in public. My family doesn't know that. Throughout junior high and the first year of high school at Beacon I was so afriad of lookig stupid, afraid that I would be eating, get some food on my face or between my teeth and look stupid, that I wouldn't eat at school. People made fun of me enough as it was, I didn't want to give them one more incident to torment me over.
I was sitting in the Gizmo with Tina this evening and I was very aware of my own unattractivness.I watched Clark chat up some first year girl who sat silently as he talked at her, smiling appeasingly and hanging on his every word. I saw two girls over by the TV doubling over in their chairs with laughter. They moved so gracefully even as they chuckled, their legs stretching out and curling up again. I watched a table of international students joke and drink water and the boy at their table look admirably at each and every girl. I was struck with how normal all of these people appeared. How enmeshed in their own worlds they were, completely unaware of my gaze. There is a certain lack of self-consciousness that makes one beautiful. I don't possess it, least not at this moment. I feel aware of myself, of my body, every minute of everyday. I am aware that no one looks at me the way I looked at the strangers in the Gizmo. I feel like I am an ugly blot on this pretty campus. That my body is gross, that I am gross, that I am not beautiful in anyway, that I never will be, and I should just stay in my room.
I felt pretty for a few moments today, when I stopped to talk to Christopher for 15 minutes about Buffy stuff. For that moment I was okay, because Christopher and I were sharing a common interest. I couldn't feel all that bad about myself because I had someone identifying and engaging with me, and I didn't feel so isolated.
So I spend all this time in my room, but it hit me today that I should really be out and about. I mean, the friends I've spent the last 4 years of my life living with are graduating in a week, many never to be seen or heard from again, or at least not for a very long time. I should be hunting poeple down, spending as much quality time with them as possible. I should take a book and curl myself at the foot of Gayle's desk like a cat, as she writes her paper, just so I can spend more time with her before we all leave for good. I should find Heather, I should pull Clark away from his first year, I should invite myself over to Norman's.
But I can't do that. All I want to do is stay home.
I bought a new book today. It's called Wasted, it's a memoir of the author's struggle with anorexia and bulimia. I bought it at the campus bookstore where they are having their end of the year sale. (25 %off everything, think I may go back for more.) As usually happens when I read, this book is making me think. I'm not even 30 pages into it and already I'm depressed. It's a very heavy book.
Making me think about my relationship with food. Also making me think about my self image and about losing things.
I have this visualization in my head that depicts my needs. Whenever I'm scared or really sad, I feel it in my stomach. It's a hollowness, a shakiness, an emptiness that can spread throughout my body. So I picture all my needs desire and emotions, all my wants, residing in my stomach. My stomach is this hollow cave. There are no organs, no intestines, nothing but empty space, blackness. I have always imagined the things that fulfill me filling that space. The things that bring me the most happiness fill me up in my middle. I have a picture of meeting my soul mate one day and having them un-zip my stomach, crawl in, fit perfectly into all the hollow crevices, and seal himself up in there. Thus I continually look for the person who will fill me up, make me whole.
Anyway, I use food to fill that hole, at least temporarily. Like so many other people, when I'm depressed I eat. The food comforts, fills me. Makes me feel comforted, full, loved. But after stuffing myself I feel guilty, like I shouldn't have indulged. I shouldn't have given myself that comfort, that I shouldn't need it.
I used to not be able to eat in public. My family doesn't know that. Throughout junior high and the first year of high school at Beacon I was so afriad of lookig stupid, afraid that I would be eating, get some food on my face or between my teeth and look stupid, that I wouldn't eat at school. People made fun of me enough as it was, I didn't want to give them one more incident to torment me over.
I was sitting in the Gizmo with Tina this evening and I was very aware of my own unattractivness.I watched Clark chat up some first year girl who sat silently as he talked at her, smiling appeasingly and hanging on his every word. I saw two girls over by the TV doubling over in their chairs with laughter. They moved so gracefully even as they chuckled, their legs stretching out and curling up again. I watched a table of international students joke and drink water and the boy at their table look admirably at each and every girl. I was struck with how normal all of these people appeared. How enmeshed in their own worlds they were, completely unaware of my gaze. There is a certain lack of self-consciousness that makes one beautiful. I don't possess it, least not at this moment. I feel aware of myself, of my body, every minute of everyday. I am aware that no one looks at me the way I looked at the strangers in the Gizmo. I feel like I am an ugly blot on this pretty campus. That my body is gross, that I am gross, that I am not beautiful in anyway, that I never will be, and I should just stay in my room.
I felt pretty for a few moments today, when I stopped to talk to Christopher for 15 minutes about Buffy stuff. For that moment I was okay, because Christopher and I were sharing a common interest. I couldn't feel all that bad about myself because I had someone identifying and engaging with me, and I didn't feel so isolated.
So I spend all this time in my room, but it hit me today that I should really be out and about. I mean, the friends I've spent the last 4 years of my life living with are graduating in a week, many never to be seen or heard from again, or at least not for a very long time. I should be hunting poeple down, spending as much quality time with them as possible. I should take a book and curl myself at the foot of Gayle's desk like a cat, as she writes her paper, just so I can spend more time with her before we all leave for good. I should find Heather, I should pull Clark away from his first year, I should invite myself over to Norman's.
But I can't do that. All I want to do is stay home.
