Eating Obsessions and Body Negativity

Had a dream people were telling me that I was a whiny selfish brat. Maybe I am. I am gross. Fatter than I’ve ever been, or at least more disgusting. What a disgusting whiny selfish bitch. That’s me. Other people can be any size and look amazing, but I never can look amazing.

I think I’m emotionally eating. I really need to not do that. I have to be really careful with addictions. I could very easily become an alcoholic I think. I need to be so careful to never do that because I know how horrible it is, no matter how hard my life is, I need to be careful not to do that.

I don’t remember anyone criticizing or critiquing my body when I was growing up. These thoughts are bigger than me. They come from generations of women before me. From the demure way women in my life turn down compliments. Dieting and gaining weight in turn.

The uncomfortable feeling just came over me today. My stomach turned and I felt massively uncomfortable in my skin and outfit. I was walking around and felt ok, well…more or less. I mean, I felt a bit lonely and homesick. Then I saw myself in a mirror in a store and I am ugly. In wearing a nice dress and before I left home I did my hair in a neat ponytail and did my makeup. In that mirror, I looked horrific.

Catching a glimpse of my reflection. Imperfections on display, I turned away from the image that fills me with disdain. Wondering what they see. All I could see was ugly, radiating from every part of me. How can anyone love something so damaged?

I continue to create reasons to hate myself. Suddenly I feel like I’ve fallen so far down. I’m at the beginning again and I hate myself and my body. I’m terrified and anxious, I am sensitive and so depressed.

I can’t find the motivation to go to the gym because I wonder if I’m trying to lose weight because the media tells me to or because I want to. Can’t seem to do the things that would make me feel better and healthier. I’m buying food, especially sugar, even though it makes me feel terrible and sick.

I’ve done this before. Not that long ago, my second semester in college, I couldn’t find the motivation to exercise because I would obsess over the reasons why I thought it was important. So, I would do nothing. I spent weeks lying in bed, eating cookies, missing class, and watching Disney movies on repeat.

It was a 180° compared to senior year in high school. I was young and heartbroken. I felt like I had been dropped, off a cliff…a very big cliff. Like a rock might have, I stayed intact with only a few new dings and scrapes that no one noticed but me. I could feel them, those imperfections. I filled the cracks with food. Then, when it happened for a second time, I dwelled in the empty spaces. All I wanted to do was eat. I guess that’s still all I want to do, except I don’t really want to it is more that I can’t stop.

The only thing I cannot stand up against is me. I keep putting on weight, afraid of my own strength. I am covering up my lack of self-esteem with chocolate, sugar, and fries. I’m eating and eating and drinking sugary drinks. I am full but cannot stop. In a flailing compulsion to fill the cracks inside with sugars and fats. Taking up more space and becoming more invisible with each bite. I’m afraid to be alone, to stand alone. To stand strong.

I try to feed my self-esteem with body positive messages. But it doesn’t fill the empty feeling.