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Magical World

Wouldn't it be lovely if, with just a twitch of the nose, life, or any aspect of it could be changed. Instead, positive changes always seem to involve tremendously hard work, determination, and endless setbacks. How lovely it would be to have the powers of Samantha Stephens.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Just me, venting again

I've gone more than two weeks without seeing Therapist. I'm blaming this post on that fact.

The last week became increasingly more difficult daily, which aggravated me because I had friends coming, and didn't want to be bothered with such a stupid problem. I hate the fact that when stress in my life increases, I channel it into my lame eating disorder. It sucks that I'm able to do so many things in my life (and some I do very well), but I can't get a handle on something so basic that toddlers understand it inside and out.

I think I'm in a good place, that things are going well, that I'm figuring out what to do to make my life better...then everything starts to ache again, and I find myself wondering why... why can't I let go of the past? why do I cling to those things that happened so long ago? why did my cousin, the first David, want to hurt me? why can't I just forget? why do I have to know about all the different ways one can misuse God's procreative gift--the one that's supposed to bring joy?

I think my head is going to explode.

Today I looked at myself in the mirror. I realized how very much I still hate my physical self. I took a good look at my face -- it doesn't look beautiful to me, only sad, haunted. The rest of me looks very female. I thought how self-destructive it is for me to associate with friends who find my body as much of an anathema as I do. I wonder if I have sought them out because they reaffirm that I should not love that part of me. They justify my hatred of my physical body--for they dislike it as much as I do. Perhaps that's not fair. No one has expressed that. It is my assumption drawn from listening to general comments made by my friends about the bodies of women. And I am a woman.

I see Therapist tomorrow. It has become my lifeline. I ate my last meal Monday morning. I'm going to try to forget all that's bothering me and try to eat today. I want to be able to tell Therapist I'm doing well...

What's up with that???? Why don't I tell my therapist I feel like crap? Who am I trying to protect here?

There is something inside me that makes me feel as if everything I do, every life I touch, every person with whom I come in contact, is tainted. I have defiled them in some way. I should remind them as they come near me, "...touch not the evil gift, nor the unclean thing..." I feel I have to protect everyone...from me. Even Therapist. That's so freakishly stupid. How can he help me, if I won't let him? How can I protect people from myself?

It's all wrong today--everything in my head.

Some sweet friends, ones I love with all my heart, told me yesterday that they loved me. Darrin tells me daily, several times during the day, that he loves me. There is a loud voice inside me screaming that I don't deserve their love, I'll never deserve any love, and that I am hurting them by loving them back. I want the voice to stop. It makes me tired.

I need to make it through today. I see Therapist tomorrow. Someday, I want to stop needing him. I hate the fact that I need him now. I need to make it through today...

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