Change, change can be good, or bad.
Monday, 10 May 2010
Change, change can be good, or bad.
Either way, it means most of the time you're walking down a new path in life, and that usually is a good thing. Everyone needs a change in a while, everyone needs to stay amused.
In my case, change sucks.
First of all I wanna thank my beautiful followers for putting up with my blogs, I am not sure if all of you even read the weird thoughts that invade my mind, thank you for being such an amazing thinspiration, thank you for reacting and writing sweet comments, thanks for letting me know that there are people who believe in me, even though I don't always believe in myself.
So, yeah, change. Change can't be good in my life, because honestly things were going perfectly well for once. I have a sweet boyfriend, a lovely job, great friends, and well, an okay, happy family. At least I thought I did.
My mother has slowly been sliding back into her depression, slowly sliding down the downwards spiral and she's of course, blaming me. I know I can't change anything about it, that I can't make her open her eyes and make her realize that her life is pretty good, that there are people jealous of her life; because honestly nothing is wrong with it, as far as I can tell.
In some way, we are very much alike, we both strive for perfection. She wants a perfect family, I want a perfect body.
Her depression is helping me reach my goal, I've never lost as many weight in one week as I did now. Fact is; it's heartbreaking at the same time, even though my mum's a right down wh.re at the moment, especially to the one imperfect person of her little family (yes that'd be me), I want to help her, I don't want her to feel miserable because even though we don't get along, I love her. She's my mother after all.
So that's as far the happy family part would go.
The boyfriend, aah.. What to mention about him, there are so many things I would love to tell him, I would love to make things clear. About why I don't wanna go out for dinner, simply because I am an anorexic wh.ore.
And not even a perfect one.
I don't like the way he changed after Queensnight, the horrible night I've mentioned before. He doesn't touch me the way he did before, he doesn't kiss me the way he did before. The temperature has just changed, I don't even think he likes me that much anymore. He's turned so cold, I feel like I have to climb up a mountain to get some sweet words out of him, only when I please him in anyway possible he tells me that he loves me.
He has no clue how hard it is for me to love, to try and be honest with him. He has no clue how hard it is for me to be around him while I have to keep my weight in my mind all the time. He hasn't got a clue about how I suck in my stomach every time I am around him, how I feel like crying every time he touches me, simply because I am not perfect enough.
Fact is, I don't want to leave him. I want to feel wanted, he makes me feel that way, that someone is out there wanting me. I used to be a strong girl, independent, but since he's showed up in my life I've only been enslaved to him, emotionally and physically.
The first months were easy, I lost enough weight for two, him being the perfect inspiration for me to lose weight... But right now I just want to stuff myself with disgusting chocolate, because he's making me feel horrible..
I do love him though, and he loves me. He just hasn't got a clue on how vulnerable I am. He knows I've had a rough life before things finally calmed down a bit, my brother has surely informed him on that. He probably thinks that now I've seen it all, have been through everything, the bullying at school, the abuse at home, that I am indestructible.
Well, wake up call, underneath it all I am more vulnerable than ever.
Even a more hard feeling to talk about is my weight.
The last part that is changing..
As some of you may have noticed, there has been a little period of time where I haven't been blogging, which also means that I haven't been busy with Ana in the way I should have been busy with her.
Of course this is due to the therapy and the extreme weighing schedules my parents and doctor put me on. Had to see my doctor every week, had to write down what I ate, when I ate things and when I barfed it out. Weighing happened at random timings. Technically, every time I was not prepared for it, not ready to see the numbers increase, they let me weigh myself.
I've never been fatter than after my therapy, I'd been terribly scared of my parents, thinking that if they found out that I'd simply go on with this, they'd hurt me again.
Especially my mother, since my father used to help me out in the past...
Right now, I am not too far away from my goal weight, even though the therapy had made me fat, I am now starting to see my ribs again, my hipbones are prettier than ever before. But I wonder, do I really have to feel this down to lose weight?
Is this whole change any good for me? For my weight, yes. But I am actually worried about my emotional state. I know myself by now, after seventeen horrible long years I know myself. I know that I will get back to the cutting again, I will eventually be back at the suicide attempts.
Even though my life is shit, I don't want to die. I want to break through, within a year I'll be out of here, out of this house, hopefully out of this country. I am not giving up now I've been struggling for seventeen years, no f.cking way.
I will fight this last year, I will get out of here and finally live the life I want to live.
Change, change sucks. But eventually the change will be for the better.