I've gained boatloads of weight. Or should I say bloat-loads of weight. (Har har puns.) It could be all the bread and cookies and cookies and cookies and sometimes a few cookies I've been eating. I don't know. Maybe the cheese at every meal? The peanut butter and Nutella? I cannot wait to be out of the house, distracted by French classes and in my routine of not eating much but exercising lots. I just want to be skinny again. The fat is bubbling upon around my thighs. Jeans look ridiculous on me. Skirts are my safe-haven but even those make me look pudgy. Can anyone really ever hide weight gain? I don't think so.


I just want to pretend my ankle is not in pain. That it will magically heal on its own. That I don't need to do anything in particular to rescue it. That I can workout on it and it won't hurt. I can't lose my workouts. I can't lose my salvation. I want to be so busy I can hardly stand up. I want to be exhausted from working out. Not really...but kind of. I don't want to think. Faith is such a burden. I mean that believing there is another way forces you to be honest that you're not seeking that way. That you've screwed up. That you're not all you should be. It is somewhat hopeful but also exhausting. I'm not saying I wish we were all doomed but...I don't know. Sometimes I think it'd be easier to live with.

business or pleasure

Im in a peculiar mood today. Not really upset about anything; not really satisfied. The day's moving a bit too slowly for me. I'm tempted to see a movie after work but that's always meant binging and I'm trying to make it a week without any behaviors. Maybe I'll just go home. Maybe I'll see Kingsmen and just get a diet, caffeine free coke. Starve my body a little. Slim down a bit. Feel powerful and sexy and hot.


I think my favorite thing about work at present is simply that I feel confident. That's really the thing. I definitely make mistakes sometimes but I know how to work fast and well for the most part. I like being able to help people; I like the challenge of lifting heavy boxes. I like joking around and having such a great braid of personalities to volley back and forth with. I really love working with so many guys; they have good energy. Wayyyy better than working in a room full of women all day. I like feeling strong. Just strong. I know I have cellulite but it doesn't haunt me here because I know I can lift things and squat and walk fast. And those traits count for more than the smoothness of the skin under my jeans. I've given up on the idea that Mark or Justin could like me and have settled in to just taking the little bit of flirting I get from a few of the guys I would never date. They're pretty adorable and funny and I just like being with them in the freeing, no-commitment sense. Also no sex haha. I feel attractive but not sexual and that's a good, rare thing I think. That's not always a given. I feel so sleepy at the end of the day but I love it. I think that's maybe why I'm so satisfied with this work: because it's so emotionally up and down yet I also have such steady routine. So I don't stress about not doing what I want but I also use up a lot of my crazy emotional energy so that by the end of the day I typically feel like I've had a great adventure and am ready to settle in for bed.

respite

this is my favorite little part of the day: being hidden away in a nearly abandoned hallway to eat my lunch in peace. 90% of the time im invisible to the eyes and bodies of coworkers and can finally catch my breath. its like being backstage after a long performance. when you manage people, your time is there time all the time. you are there to serve and be selfless and present and alert. breaks are the only time you can stop smiling and be left in peace. don't get me wrong, I love what I do! I enjoy helping people and showing them what to do and how to do it. I like interacting with them and I even tolerate/like the messy, stressful situations in which im forced to stretch my patience. those moments come with the good ones and so I endure them. but ahhh its so relaxing to be alone.


these days at Lawrence really go fast. at least for me. I like them. before you know it the mornings over, then lunch speeds by, and then you're pacing yourself through the few remaining afternoon hours. I hope o get to stay here for a while. I wonder if LMS will hire me. a part of me cant imagine leaving.

now's not a good time for me

One of my favorite au pair families thus far just sent me a rejection letter today. Right before we were about to Skype. I feel sad.


And I wonder if this is what I should be doing.


What if I'm not meant to go au pair? What if I'm just not enough for any family? What if this is a huge mistake and I'm wasting my life and I should just give up? It's hard to settle down when your mind is constantly describing you as being in a transition phase. I just finished college and yet here I am, once again, just making do and getting by before "real life" begins. The months are ticking on quickly. What if Paris doesn't happen? Despite me telling 7,000 people that its the plan for me? I want to start living, really start. I tell myself that then, then I'd finally get control of my eating disorder. Then I'd make friends and start saving money. As soon as real life starts and I feel like an adult, I'll get my act together. There's always a future time to plan for, isn't there?

But I need to change now. I need to get serious now. I keep bolting instead. I keep eating and going mindless and numb and in the meantime I end up being unable to think about anything I need to do. Or I get serious for a few days and go really strict. And then the pressure comes and I get so tired of being good that I break down and splurge on food, movies, and pleasure. Or torture, really. Let's not pretend these things actually satisfy.


*sigh*

who can plan success

im sick of recovery. that's why ive been binging and purging and spending, spending, spending money for the last week plus. im just so done. done with recording my food every night. done with sacrificing sleep for exercise. done with getting up early to rush through devotions and fain commitments I know i'll only break after 5pm. im really sick of positive-thinking my way through my blatantly rebellious behavior. im just sick of it. I just want to eat like I used to. three-ish meals a day, with a little heavier snacking on the weekends. control. calm. stability. and just enough carelessness to make it fun.


and yet.


and yet. was it ever really that simple? because I can recall even in 7th grade, hating my body and weighing myself and trying to starve to a few pounds lighter. and the exercise was an obsession. I wasn't cleansed, I had no mental peace until id worked out for the day. and sure I was healthier but I was also more miserable. and less miserable. I could at least attempt to stop. but it was all through self-hate.


I hate the thought that maybe, maybe, I like binging and purging and overeating better than I like recovery. and yet it is there. when im here, staring at the reality of my life and wondering what it is I really want. trying to choose and spending my days absorbed in work and my nights numbing myself up with food and pain. im destroying myself. and I should stop. why am I doing this? do I really like this better? some days I do. and I am terrified. I don't know how to rest outside this eating disorder and I don't know how to rest within it. im stuffed and teary-eyed and lethargic. I cant achieve my goals and I shut friends out just to try to handle any fleck of pain I feel. what am I supposed to do now? I know what I should do. I want to want it. but im so sick of the endless, endless struggle. it is worth it, I know. it is valorous and honorable to pursue it, I know. but Im weak. goddammit im weak! does no one else struggle this way? Abba I cant do it in my own strength! don't You see this? I cant do it! how the fuck am I going to get through a lifetime of this struggle?! I just cant imagine doing it. how could I possibly get through more than 10 years past today?


the paradox is that in rebellion against structure your life falls apart and in its embrace you can only hate its cage of security. the lawless and lawful. the prodigal sons. the drug addict and the pastor's kid. which one, which one? bulimia and anorexia. indulgence and restriction. the only consistent theme is misery. abject, total, all-con-fucking-summing misery. I hate it, God. I hate this sin and I hate obedience. that is it, I think. I hate being obedient.


and I know I probably just damned myself to hell again admitting that but its true and I have nothing else. goals I cant achieve; the weight of the law destroys me. the freedom of forgiveness looses me never stop. what is the point of my existence? of my salvation? I cant do it. and I know im pathetic but I cant. I don't even know how to do it through you, God. I know that salvation was never an act of my own strength and so sanctification shouldn't be either. but I don't even know how to be strong in Your or what in the world walking in the Spirit means. I don't know who else to confess this weakness to. You're not deceived God. Abba, this is everything! this is the terrible, ugly, horrible, pathetic place I am in. what do I do? I am at wit's end. please, make Your strength perfect in my weakness. never let my ego think (assuming things change) that I got myself out. I cant do it, God! I don't love You and I know I should. im not motivated by love for You. I see no reason why You should love me. I cant connect with this love You offer. not when I sin. its empty to me. im dead. dead in myself. and what about when the romance dies again?  then what will I do? how can I possibly trust myself when I feel good or when I feel bad?

i am just overwhelmed by how much i weigh, how much weight ive gained over the last few months, and how i am still controlled by this monster of a fucking eating disorder. why the FUCK cant i get control? why the FUCK cant i even try to eat intuitively? why the FUCKING hell isnt God helping me with this? how the fuck do i control my will and choose, in those fucking moments, to act differently??? i just never can. and im so done.

fuck you bulimia.
fuck you eating disorder.
fuck your burning my throat with acid.
fuck your gnawing at my knuckles.
fuck you bloating my stomach.
fuck your cellulite creation.
fuck your bank account draining.
fuck your acne spurring.
fuck your enamel stripping.
fuck your ruining fucking Easter for me.

poor Danae. poor everyone who has to encounter and deal with this shit that arises from me not being able to get fucking control and choose what i know i should choose. just FUCK THIS SHIT. why the hell cant this ever, ever, ever change? im so tired.

i realized this weekend that its interesting how we binge so hard when we have sisters weekends. i came to realize that if we're going so HAM trying to get numb and overindulge as much as we can, there must be a hell of a lot of emotions were trying to avoid. theres so much we dont want to feel, so much that it propelling us to eat and eat and eat past any point of satiety. why is that?

changing a culture

ive been thinking a lot lately, Abba, about how id really like to begin challenging this weight-obsessed culture that I find myself surrounded by. it is endless and prevalent for people to express a clear measurement of self-worth in relation to their weight. frustration, anger, despondency, desperation, idolization, value, control, Godliness. oh my gosh just EVERYTHING and ANYTHING good in life is determined in so, so many peoples' minds by how they're doing with food. they'll never say it directly, but its implied in their tsk-tsking after a brownie, their self-conscious be-ratings after indulging in that brownie or carb they had said they were trying to refrain from eating, their proclamations about getting back into shape and toning up--again. finally."if I can just get my fucking self together," I hear them whisper wordlessly. perhaps the worst part is that they do this until they're 60. it. does. not. end. they don't outgrow it because they assume it is what they must grow into. they assume it is what people do once they're finally mature. and it just breaks my heart that everyone thinks its merely an issue of willpower. no, lovelies, no it is not. you sweet, sweet darlings--there is so much more for you, so much more for you. I want to tell people about the freedom of intuitive eating; I want to tell them how much hope there is. but I become fearful, Lord--terrified that they'll laugh at me and say, "well you're a porky little piggy so I don't think you have any sound nutritional advice to offer me about eating. at least I try!" I would have thought someone was crazy telling me about IE when I was in the midst of that hell. it took me years to come to a place of understanding and peace and acceptance with it.


I guess all I can really do is begin challenging subtly. When opportunities present themselves for small comments or discussions, I can question what someone is saying. I can offer a warm hug, acceptance and understanding, and a different perspective. and perhaps most importantly I can try my best to lead by example, letting people see the way I interact with food without lying or hiding and being honest if people ask how or what I eat. I worry that when I struggle to walk my talk, people will judge and say, see it doesn't work! but part of intuitive eating is the journey to get there.


this makes me want to lead a small group on intuitive eating, honestly. before im done with college, perhaps next fall, I really want to host a collaborative group about it. which is great because that motivates me to move forward in my own recovery so I can help others. I remember Dad saying something when I initially told him and Mom about my struggles that that is something I will be able to do in the future: help others out of this. (at least, I think he said that! lol) it would bring me such great joy to do that.