Three days into my new, more normal meal plan and I have already started to have doubts. Thoughts of reverting back to my old ways. My brain keeps replaying the shocked comments I received from everyone over the summer when they noticed how much weight I had lost. I am afraid of what they think now that I’ve definitely gained most of it back already. (I refuse to weigh myself anymore for my own mental health, so I can’t be sure.) I don’t know why I care what anyone else thinks though.
At the time it seems impossible to forget, but I have to keep reminding myself now that I wasn’t happy then. Those comments meant nothing to me. I was a little hurt by them to be honest. No one seems excited or happy for me. They looked at me with concern. And I was embarrassed to be looked at at all. I didn’t know what to say, and I was surprised. I still didn’t think I looked much smaller. I certainly didn’t think I looked better. And most importantly I wasn’t happy. Not at all.
My brain has always told me that if I can make myself perfect and beautiful, that I will be happy. I thought foolishly that maybe once I showed myself that didn’t work, I would stop insisting upon that notion. Yet it persists. Maybe my mind just needs something to latch onto. After all, I don’t know what would truly make me happy.
I have felt numb for such a long time now. I don’t mean depressed or anything necessarily negative. Just numb. Nothing. Lack of feeling. I have many small pleasures and moments of joy here and there, but nothing has the ability to deeply move me anymore. It seems like I feel more alive in my dreams now. And part of me is happy with things staying this way. I may not feel much passion or excitement, but nothing hurts me either. And I am so afraid to hurt. I guess I’ll just keep drifting for awhile.