Earlier today, I was reflecting back upon the road I've been down over the last two years since this nightmare began, and I was attempting to piece together the fragments of what the time has entailed. This task has turned out to be much easier said than done, and would not be something I would ask my loathed enemy to ever experience. The empty hollow longing for something greater than yourself, and then the denial because you can actually rationalize with yourself that you are so lowly a lifeform, somehow below every other person on the face of this earth. You manage to cast off the idea engraved into your head that you are the Beloved Daughter of the King.
In my reflecting, I wandered upon a collection of old writing from a blog I had been keeping anonymously for a time when I was younger, and I thought perhaps it was time to occasionally start letting some of her thoughts free, since she was too afraid to- and I know that girl is still curled up afraid deep inside. These words came from one of my loneliest darkest times in my outrage, and in my realization that I was out of control, and I had become a monster. It took me much past this to finally say something, but I thank God each day I did, and wouldn't change a thing. So without further adieu:
Let me tell you a story. There's that item almost everyone keeps in their household to check their hair, teeth, outfit of the day, or scrutinize the curve that falls in the wrong place and actually chides them for the so called “forbidden food” they indulged in on a whim. They know it was a mistake now. The mirror is the little bitch, and has been for as long as I can remember since I could first tell I had babyfat, or that perhaps my thighs existed.
We work so hard to manipulate our perceptions within the mirror, be it going to the gym, "healthy eating," or self starvation, yet we fail to accept ourselves for the way that we are. Why have I become a monster- a prisoner? I wake up day in and out failing to portray myself in the mirror for what others claim to see me. Far below the supposed bane of my existed BMI marks of health, and I still see an ogre. Yet I still let the mirror control my caloric intake in any given day.
Even worse, is adults are doing this mirror dance in front of children (who are watching! Hello?!), and we the hypocrites go around squawking about a positive body image. What kind of twisted convoluted world have we turned into? I am scared to work towards recovery. There are so many days where I walk towards that mirror and I want to tell myself that I like what I see, and that mirror stands with its’ twisted grin and mocks me within its’ malicious deviant ways and tells me how I will never be good enough. And I listen
I know that someday I will have children to set an example for. I want to grow stronger for myself for that matter. To chase my dreams, and help others to chase theirs. But I can't do this until I help myself. I know that I need to be strong enough to break this twisted deception when people around me voice their concerns. Yet, at the moment I am not even sure where I can begin. Perhaps, it is time to take a fist and crack the mirror and shatter the whole that keeps me locked from within.
In my reflecting, I wandered upon a collection of old writing from a blog I had been keeping anonymously for a time when I was younger, and I thought perhaps it was time to occasionally start letting some of her thoughts free, since she was too afraid to- and I know that girl is still curled up afraid deep inside. These words came from one of my loneliest darkest times in my outrage, and in my realization that I was out of control, and I had become a monster. It took me much past this to finally say something, but I thank God each day I did, and wouldn't change a thing. So without further adieu:
Let me tell you a story. There's that item almost everyone keeps in their household to check their hair, teeth, outfit of the day, or scrutinize the curve that falls in the wrong place and actually chides them for the so called “forbidden food” they indulged in on a whim. They know it was a mistake now. The mirror is the little bitch, and has been for as long as I can remember since I could first tell I had babyfat, or that perhaps my thighs existed.
We work so hard to manipulate our perceptions within the mirror, be it going to the gym, "healthy eating," or self starvation, yet we fail to accept ourselves for the way that we are. Why have I become a monster- a prisoner? I wake up day in and out failing to portray myself in the mirror for what others claim to see me. Far below the supposed bane of my existed BMI marks of health, and I still see an ogre. Yet I still let the mirror control my caloric intake in any given day.
Even worse, is adults are doing this mirror dance in front of children (who are watching! Hello?!), and we the hypocrites go around squawking about a positive body image. What kind of twisted convoluted world have we turned into? I am scared to work towards recovery. There are so many days where I walk towards that mirror and I want to tell myself that I like what I see, and that mirror stands with its’ twisted grin and mocks me within its’ malicious deviant ways and tells me how I will never be good enough. And I listen
I know that someday I will have children to set an example for. I want to grow stronger for myself for that matter. To chase my dreams, and help others to chase theirs. But I can't do this until I help myself. I know that I need to be strong enough to break this twisted deception when people around me voice their concerns. Yet, at the moment I am not even sure where I can begin. Perhaps, it is time to take a fist and crack the mirror and shatter the whole that keeps me locked from within.
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