Yesterday, I didn't want to leave the house because I thought I looked too fat. I haven't done that in a really long time. While I was hanging out with friends they kept asking me why I looked so mad. I told them I wasn't. How are you supposed to tell people "I think I look too fat to be outside"?
Earlier, I read a letter I had written about a year ago. The words I read seemed to come from a someone other than the woman writing this blog right now. That letter was understanding. It didn't self-criticize and give an excuse. Instead, it asked for forgiveness and patience.
Forgiveness and patience. Two things I have been denying myself for several months. For months I have been beating myself over every perceived mistake. Nothing has felt like enough, even if I was told that I had done a good job. I have spent months trapped by these thoughts. It has made my life harder and unhappier. I have created situations in my head and let them effect my reality.
This is not who I wanted to be. This is not the person I am working towards. I slipped back into a mindset without even knowing it. I lost sight of myself for one minute and the disgusting "monster" that is everything my diabulimia is took over.
I'm sitting here feeling sad. I wish I could think of a better word but I can't. I am sad that I have been hating myself for so long. I am sad that I believed I was unworthy of love and happiness. I am sad because these thoughts consumed me... but in that sadness there is freedom. Freedom because I know that I don't have to be that sadness any longer.
I am going to choose to let this sadness go. I am going to choose to allow myself to love whole heartedly and receive love whole heartedly. I am going to choose to let the person I am be the person in the mirror. I will choose to defy all weight on any scale. I will choose happiness.