Picture of my life

I’ve been having this Jamiroquai song in my mind all week. Probably due to the fact that he just had a gig here in Mexico City on Monday and I couldn’t be there. Had been waiting 7 years to see him and because of work I had to be an adult and miss it. Goddamned adult responsibilities!

But there’s something else too. I’ve been feeling so lost, filled with such hopelessness, and I just can’t pinpoint what it is. Instead I’ve been focusing all my undetected and unresolved issues on my weight. This is something that’s been torturing me for sure, and I’ve effectively starved for some days now, I’ve lost a pound a day and whenever I get on the scale I’m petrified by the fear it’s going to show how much of a fat cow I am, and yet it keeps showing I’m loosing weight and it gives me comfort and peace of mind, though it still doesn’t show the weight I want it to show. I’ve also been looking at YouTube videos of the downwards spiral many women get caught it thanks to anorexia, the aim of their videos is to warn others…but I think they just fuel me. I don’t look at those pro ana-mia sites though, don’t get me wrong, I think they’re stupid and dangerous for women, especially teenagers, to look at. You want to be anorexic? Trust me, you don’t.

I do eat when I’m with company, because I know how much of an annoyance it can be to have people noticing you’re not eating. But on weekdays nobody really notices wether I eat or not and I can get away with it. I said I was going to lose the weight I’ve gained thanks to those damn pills before my birthday, and that means I have a little more than a month to do so. I wish it didn’t matter to me, I wish I could just let it be, but I can’t, and it makes me feel stupid and sad. Just as the song says, I wish someone could show me what my life should really be like, because this can’t be it.

I never had a dream that I could follow through
Only tears left to stain, dry my eyes once again
I don’t know who I am, or what I’m gonna do
Been so long I’ve been hopelessly confused
This can never really end, it’s infinitely sad
Can someone tell me when
Something good became so bad
So if you have a cure
To me would you please send
A picture of my life
With a letter telling how
It should really be instead

The precipice is there
But will I ever dare
Throw myself in the sky, so at last I can die
See I’ve become a man
Who holds nothing too dear
Who will mind if I just disappear 
This can never really end, it’s infinitely sad
Can someone tell me when
Something good became so bad 
So if you have a cure
To me would you please send
A picture of my life
With a letter telling how
It should really be instead

On a brighter note, I’m not going to go to work tomorrow, yay! Thanks to my other job at Mount Olympus I have to go to the SAT department, which is like the IRS in the States, to do a bunch of paperwork for the uni to be able to hire me as an external employee. It’s probably going to take most of my morning and I was first bummed about it, but then I realized I could see it as getting a break from an otherwise dreadful humdrum Monday, and it cheered me up! I won’t have to give classes, I won’t have to wear my horrendous uniform, and I sure will be out of there before 3:30, which is the time I get off work, so it’s a win-win really! Well… that is if I conveniently put aside the fact that I won’t get paid on that day, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay for a day off 🙂

business_cat

Monday, kind of Sunday

I’ve been eating like a pig, my clothes don’t fit, specially my pants. Binge eating is something I’d trained myself to avoid, and I was successful for a long time. Now, it’s apparently become hard to remember cookies are not love nor peace of mind, and whenever I manage to loose some of the weight I’ve gained, I gain it right back. People say I’m ok, but they don’t know what it is to feel obese and ashamed and to hate yourself and your body so much you wanna cut the fat right out of you. The worst part is when they laugh at you for having such worries: “lol, your far, far away from being obese!”, or “if you think you’re fat, I can only wonder what you think of me!”
I wish it wasn’t such a big deal, I trick myself into thinking this is a silly thing to worry about, just like everyone tells me. And I feel quite dumb admitting this, but it really is a big, big issue for me, it’s something that affects me every second of every day. This is more serious than just being uncomfortable in my body, it actually feels more like being trapped in hell. This thing I look at in the mirror can’t be me! Get me out of here! But no one gets me out because this isn’t a bad dream, this is one of my biggest fears come true.
Anorexia is not something as simple as not eating. It sticks with you forever, even when you don’t look anorexic anymore. At least that’s the way I live it, I’ve almost lost hope that I’ll some time feel normal about food, because it haunts me ALL THE TIME.
This Monday looks quite a lot like s Sunday, anxiety is back at it and chest pains are creeping in on me, I wish it were Tuesday already so I could relax a bit. But I won’t relax. I never do. I just become less anxious. Well I still wish today would end so I could at least enjoy that. And also so I could start again my lately never-kept promise of not eating. I always say I’ll stop eating, and I always think I’m gonna keep the promise. But I hadn’t really told anyone about this, so maybe I’ll have a bigger chance of sticking to my goal this time.

Angsty Sunday

I hate anxiety. Anxiety’s a bitch. Today I woke up thinking it was Monday and I was already late for work (this has become a permanent anxiety issue since I overslept). I couldn’t undertstand why I hadn’t done my stuff like preparing my lesson plan or taken a shower the previous night. When I started thinking about all the things I should’ve done but didn’t I started to wonder whether it was actually monday, though I wasn’t convinced until I checked my cell and carefully read what it said on the screen: Sunday, November 11th. I had to do it twice to be completely sure.

I wish my anxiety was at least reasonable, but what makes it such a hard thing to tackle is that it can oversize anything, and next thing I know I’m having chest pains without even kwnowing what’s causing them…or knowing what’s causing them is irrational.

I know for sure I won’t enjoy my Sunday like Socrates will, but at least I’ll try. Here’s him at hist max worrying level: