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life...and all it's worth |
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| Written by Diana, on 15-07-2001 00:29 |
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For a minute there I thought I was cured, not that I was proud of it. I put butter, real butter, on my Boston Market mashed potatoes. I haven't used butter, much less real butter, in over a year. I also never ate anything that had fat in it and I'm sure the mashed potatoes had fat in them even before I put the "real butter" on them. But after today I'm not so sure. Maybe since the "fuss" over me is gone, I search for a new, or perhaps old, reason for others to fuss over me. While in the hospital, I was proud to tell people my weight and I loved being asked how my eating disorder was going by complete strangers. "Just take one bite..for me," they'd say. I think that's because I had control over my eating and to a small extent my weight. I was the girl with anorexia. I was finally proud of myself. I fell off my friend's horse yesterday, and today I hurt in places I didn't even know I had.
My father asked me if I wanted to go for a walk, maybe walk some of the pain out of me. My response was basically that I hurt too much to stand up after sitting down. There's no way I'll be able to walk the streets in my neighborhood. They're much too steep. Can I gain weight by eating too much fruit? I feel stuffed after eating them--like I drank a gallon of water in five seconds. It's not a good feeling but everything I eat is purely fat free and most of it is full of negative calories. Harmless, I'm told. I hope they're right. All of a sudden I have this fear that the assistant trainer who was teaching when I fell off the horse yesterday thinks I can't ride. He barely said one word to me today and didn't even ask me if I wanted to join in on the lesson. He hasn't been around long enough to know my past accomplishments and actually only started about a week before I went into the hospital and I stopped competing long before that. I don't want to look like a flake just because I didn't ride for three weeks. If only he knew the real reason why I wasn't there, he'd never think I was a flake. I don't want to seem like some valley girl to him. You know, a girl who gossips about everything, all day long. That's not even close to the real me. I think he's seen my scars but he never so much as gave me a look. If you've got my kind of scars, you'll know what "look" I mean. I get them every day I go out in public. Especially if I buy something and have to hand the cashier money or whatever. My scars are all but invisible. It would be some sort of miracle if I went a day without getting the "look." I kinda like it though, ya know? It gives me a sense of accomplishment. I have lost a lot of good friends in my life. Life. That seems like a word I don't deserve to use. Like I'm too young, too inexperienced. But we'll use it for now, just for lack of a better word. I feel I've lost friends just as we started to become close. Just before it was okay to start disclosing personal information. All my life I've always been able to just join most groups on most levels of popularity with much ease. Yet somehow, just when I start to latch on, Something happens to ruin the whole thing, and I for some unknown reason feel forced to leave. And it only got worse as the years went by, until it got so bad that I decided not to join any more groups. I went off on my own, into hiding, so I couldn't be hurt again. I think it saved me from real hurt, but it also hurt me in the long run. One and a half semesters of college and I made no friends, joined no groups. I didn't even feel welcomed into any groups. Part of the problem was that I was in a program where everyone was in the same dorm, took the same core classes, and cooperated in the same extracurricular activities. Everyone knew every little thing about everyone else in the group...except me. And by mid-October everyone knew I was not living in the dorms and they all seemed to want a reason why--like I had done something wrong, like I was this terrible person for applying for that dorm in the first place. I felt unwanted in almost every place I went. Including my classes because they weren't exactly filled with freshman. I know I resented those younger than me in upper level classes. I never felt welcome at that school. I don't even know why I was accepted. I'm no genius. And I was accepted early decision into a program with Caltech. Often I don't think I deserved to be accepted. Other days I am sure of it. I think the only reason I'm okay with my job interviews going nowhere is that I feel I don't deserve them. The jobs I mean. I have this overwhelming desire to just go to sleep. And it's only 11:30pm. And tomorrow's Sunday. And I feel like eating. Or drinking a pepsi or something yet that would only make me feel worse because I wouldn't feel tired yet I'd want to sleep. Hm. I'm all of a sudden at a loss for words.
Last update: 04-12-2006 08:08
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