effortlessly perfect











{November 18, 2012}   Tired

Sometimes I just want to be done. Done thinking, doing, wishing, fearing, feeling. Sometimes I just want it all to stop.



{November 17, 2012}   Responsibility & such

Why am I always the responsible one? The one who thinks of others, pays all of her bills on time, never forgets a birthday, and analyzes every decision to make sure it logical, responsible and mature. I don’t start laundry when someone is in the shower. I balance my checkbook a couple times a week. I start my Christmas shopping in October to make sure I fine the perfect presents for my loved ones. I get the oil changed in my car at the exact moment it tells me too. And I never go into an express lane with more items than I’m supposed to have.

Obviously I’m a rule follower and do my best to be a people pleaser too. To be honest though, the whole thing makes me sad. You see, I never really had much of a childhood. I was forced to be grown up, responsible and unemotional at a very young age. I was taught that emotions or needs were selfish, so I worked hard at not having any. I got pretty good at it and really didn’t know any different at the time.

But, lets just say that now I’m realizing just how fucked up I am because of it. Gotta go…. More on this later.



{October 30, 2012}   i think my body hates me

I am very aware that I have had issues with stress and anxiety in addition to my lovely eating disorder. However, I have normally been fairly good at ignoring those feelings and issues, so I could go on with life.  Don’t get me wrong, they have definitely been an issue for me and have been slowly eating away at me.  But when I needed to step up and handle something I could.  They haven’t really gotten in the way of my job or day to day responsibilities… or at least in a way that I couldn’t recover from or work around.

However, I think that my body is starting to hate me. I think my body is trying to tell me that it is not a fan of my thick exterior mask that I’ve been putting up for so long, while my body and soul are being damaged and neglected. You see, I woke up yesterday and I thought my body was giving up on me. I will spare you all of the details, but after hours of vomiting and going in and out of consciousness, I found myself unable to lift my arms and too weak to stand on my own. Luckily I was able to sleep a little and eventually keep some gatorade down, which helped with the dehydration and weakness in my arms and legs.

To be honest, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me. But I guess I don’t really understand how stress and exhaustion can do something that intense to my body. I mean, really?  I don’t think I’m that stressed. There are people who have it much worse that me and don’t react like this. However, laying on the bathroom floor, wondering when I was going to pass out next, it was hard to deny that something was wrong.

Luckily, I woke up this morning feeling better. I am beyond achy from the vomiting and probably from sleeping on the bathroom floor all day yesterday. I am back at work, because I have to be. But still rattled by the events of the past 36 hours. I think the sickest thing about all of it is how happy I was when I weighed myself this morning. Down eight pounds from Sunday… mostly water weight I’m sure, but it’s still progress!

You know, part of me wonders if this will be a never-ending battle between my body and I. Or if someday my body will win.



et cetera