Firstly, thanks to my fifteenth follower Shauna Nicholson! Yay! Hope you'll appreciate my sporadic posts!
Long time no post.
I have been commenting but not posting=lazyass.
This next segment will be called "this is why you shouldn't trust people".
It is a cautionary tale of disrespect and idiocy, so ladies and gents beware and remember my words!
Tuesday night I went out to dinner with S. He finally took me to a place near my house that is one of the best Chinese restaurants in my town. Fancy and stuff. Not like all the Chinese in the world: greasy and crowded. Super cool. Well distanced tables and perfectly fried food.
So, we went.
As usual I started worrying about it around 7pm Monday. Like: what am I eating? Am I eating? Oh god I don't wanna binge. Please control yourself. But I have been wanting to go for so long! You're already fat (official current weight 111)(.........), what can one night do?
And so forth.
So when I got into the restaurant, sat down and open the menu my mind was already set into panic mode.
I was on the very thin line: binge or starve that Mich described (http://s1ckb1tch.blogspot.com/2011/06/do-not-take-me-for-some-conjurer-of.html)(sorry for the crummy link but I am currently using the phone to post and dunno how to proper link stuff).
I said I would have a seaweed salad (I love seaweed salad. Like regular person love).
He said "why bother, you're fat. Get whatever you want".
Then I thought I could open up and try to reach him through my discomfort. I talked about my Ed (ok, not officially diagnosed, but pretty sure it's there), the obsession and how I miss the normal eating life.
Around the end of dinner, he states:
"I don't get it. How come you're so fat if you say you have this thing? If you're controlling and counting how come you binge sometimes? Why are you overweight? [I am disordered ok, but I can still see that for the rest of humanity 5'5 and 111 (!) is not considered fat or particularly overweight].
Maybe you should just try harder. The girls I have known that had an Ed had a pretty rockin body. I mean, I can stand their whining and controlling, but yours is not justified".
Yes. He said that.
I was petrified.
I have had during my entire life the fear of sharing my psychological issues, fearing people couldn't understand. I laugh it off when someone asks me about my scars and never mention my depression or else.
And he, my boyfriend, tells me I should get worse. That if he can't see it it's not there. Tells me to dig deeper.
It's already what I am trying to do, fucker. But I know it's not the right thing to do. I would never want my mom to know, since she thinks I am finally fine. I could never give her some more pain.
And he, my boyfriend, tells me to go on and starve more.
So we got into a fight, of course.
[the following day he stated that he was joking. Mh. Yeah. F**k off anyways]
This may teach you that some people are rude undeserving arseholes that would make Freud's happiness. Some people are masochistic suckers that like to hurt to feel powerful and untouchable.
This may teach you to choose wisely before being thrown back in the arms of your disease more messed up than before by some loser that has no human decency.
Think twice. But DO share.
Today I have a seven hour patch to cover in some mountain venue. I am alone, with the car and the dog.
And I am on bingeing mode already.
That's what I do when I am bored and on the road. I EAT.
So far (11 am) had a croissant (best ever!) and small (1.5x1.5 inch) piece of cake. Don't know how's it called but it's pretty basic: no cream, chocolate and filling. Just the cake.
And now the bakery I bought them in is obsessing me. I am incessantly thinking about going there again and eat the last hours off.
THAT IS WHY I DESERVE TO BE FAT.
I have just realized I am a weekend blogger.
Aka Lady Lazy Ass.
Lotta Love Ladies