Starving for perfection

August 5, 2008 at 4:26 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , )

I had original intended to use this blog for FA/Feminism except I realized I can’t be any kind of champion when I still so throughly hate my body, and base my self-worth on my body. So I’ve decided to use this as a personal healing experience for me. Maybe if I write all the awful things in my head maybe I can get better.

To admit so publicly and candidly… I have an eating disorder. I also suffer from clinical depression and it’s still up in the air on whether I have ADHD or an anxiety disorder(though we have effectively ruled out social anxiety, which is good as that’s atleast one thing I’ve over come since high school) I used to self-injury but I haven’t done that since I was 18, but I would be lying if some days if the urge isn’t still there.

And all those things make me feel so incredibly broken and that’s hard. I really really just want to be normal, and it sucks because due to genetics and circumstance that’s just not possible. And that hurts… it makes me insane with myself and angry with myself. I hate when I can’t fix things… that’s my control freak, and that’s where my ED comes in.

I should state that I have never in the recollection of my life known what it was like to have a real image of my body. The fat jokes started when I was 5, no joke my older sister and her lovely friends used to call me G&G for gums and gut(people wonder why I don’t like to smile…). I always felt so dirty and wrong as if I was some how defective….

The horrible thing? I wasn’t even fat, no really I was a normal sized kid… just bigger I mean just all around larger then normal 5 year olds. But from that tender age of 5 I learned: my body matters and it determines who much I’m worth to people.

I sort of get why now it happened; my older sister started it. I was almost as big as her…. I think that made her angry. I think she projected her own insecurity on me… her anger. I was always that sweet shy girl… quiet and I always just took it. I just cried through it… I hid myself in my room with books and Barbie dolls, crafting what I thought was the perfect world. And I sobbed, at 5 years old, because I couldn’t be like that.

I started wanting to be perfect… I wanted to be thin at 6 I tried to diet, but I didn’t have much weight to lose. I hated myself for who I was; shy, quiet and scared of the world around me. I wanted so badly to form my perfect world around me, a world that loved the shy, quiet girl with a big imagination and a desire to make everyone happy. If I could make all the world smile and happy, even at the cost of my life I would have… and come to think of it, I still would.

The thing is… I don’t see a change in my body. Very seriously, the image in my mind has always been the same. This blob of flesh with big fat thighs, and a huge stomach and I HATE it… I wish I could beat it in to doing what I wanted. I’m so angry at it…

And I’m so angry it matters so fucking much… I’m angry that my whole life the weight of my family has been based on my weight. I’m angry that even the people I love so dearly I would die for them, they put such emphasis on the way my body looks. I’m angry after not seeing my sister for 6 months she said “Oh geeze now I’m the fat one in the family”

Because I was so ugly before? Because I’ve managed to get down nearly 50 lbs from starving myself? And I can’t even see the CHANGE? Fuck you!

Then my father makes a comment like “Rachel needs to lose a little weight… I think she might be bigger then you are now Erin”?

Because it’s so bad I’m not a size 4? Why the hell does it matter so much? Why did he have to say it the day before my birthday(my least favorite day of the year fyi) And a little over 2 weeks after I admitted to my mother a 8 year eating disorder(in which in pointed out I emotionally eat… thanks mom!)

And yet I still love them so much, and it hurts so god damn much when they say it…

And I’m angry

And I’m sad

I just want to see myself for who I really am… not some distorted image of myself. I’d like for my whole mind to agree that my weight doesn’t make me who I am… my weight doesn’t make me a mother, my weight doesn’t make me a woman who is really good at math, and really creative… My weight doesn’t make me the woman that loves to make people happy, loves to give hugs and make people laugh. Doesn’t make me woman that plays tag and ring around the rosie with my daughter and the girls across the street. My weight doesn’t make be a good listener and really CARE about other people

It doesn’t make me a good or a bad person… it’s just part of who I am. But it doesn’t MAKE me

If only I could get the rest of my mind to agree

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3 Comments

  1. Sisters By <3 said,

    Thank you. Thank you for sharing and for your honesty.

    When you wrote, “to admit so publicly,” that really struck me. I’ll write about my struggles on my blog, but often I’m still having to remind myself that I really do have a problem. It did not go away. And while I’ll write about it for all the interwebs to see (granted it gets few hits so, not all to many are seeing, haha), I cannot and will not tell my family.

    I’m not ready to be that public, I think that partly comes with the lack of belief at what I’m going through though. Why admit something that isn’t real? Ya know?

    I hope that you can see yourself for who you are… even in just reading this, I think you’re pretty amazing.

  2. Livvy said,

    Hey. I know what you mean about not seeing a change and of having a concept of yourself in your head. It’s frustrating, isn’t it?

    I’m glad you joined wordpress. I hope you find it helpful to wander through your mind with us. Big hugs.

  3. Erin said,

    @ Sisters by <3: I think remembering it’s a problem is the hardest thing…. for me I convince myself I’m just not hungry. Some days when I think or talk about it, it’s so disconnected like it’s someone else and some days(like the post I made last night) It’s very emotional and real….

    Telling your family is hard. I told my mom because I really wanted someone to talk to… I think that’s what matters as long as you have someone to talk to then you are under no obligation to tell someone(nor do they have the right to know with few exceptions) I did check out your blog though! I’m going to put it in my RSS and read ^_^

    @Livvy: Yes it is frustrating…. I think a lot of women actually know what it’s like, we just don’t realize it. I think we have a society that puts images of unrealistic unattainable beauty in our face all the time =\

    Thank you for the hugs! I’m in shock and awe people read and commented!

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