It's not even funny how happy I am that it is Monday. Well,
actually if it was Tuesday night right now, I would be
ecstatic, but it's not.
Tomorrow I will be driving eight hours to see Ben after two and a half months of being apart, but I feel like I haven't seen him in years.
I can't wait to see his face.
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Moving on. I wanted to talk about something that has been nagging at me for the past couple of weeks.
The deal with competition.
I'm not really talking about competition at sports and whatnot, but more about general life stuff, and of course with Ed.
There have been some things that I've caught myself doing lately that have got me worried and I think it's time to face them.
I compare myself and search for ways to be better than others.
I use restricting and exercise as those ways.
It feels terrible to say that out loud, as I come across as a
complete bitch, but I need to put it out there because I have to work on this issue.
There has always been this competitive nature in me, in which
I must be the best at everything and if I'm not, well then, I'm obviously a failure at life altogether. There is no middle ground.
In sixth grade, I competed for
"fake" love from some boy and didn't win. I competed with the other girls to see who had the biggest butt, I lost apparently.
In seventh grade, I competed with my body and failed...
the hospital won. I competed with hormones and lost as well.
In eighth grade, I lost in the battle of everyone liking me, and I also failed at ultimate Frisbee which was disappointing.
In ninth grade, I competed with
every single other girl in the school on who was thinner, prettier, more likable. I lost in all categories, except the first one on most occasions.
In tenth grade, I competed with my brother for attention. I competed with my mom with artwork, and I competed with Marlin to see who could get to the top of the mountain first.
In eleventh grade,
I lost the battle with myself again, this time losing the
real me altogether. Not to the hospital, but to the demands of pressure from my
"so-called" friends.
I competed to be liked, and lost.
In twelfth grade, I competed with Ben while hiking. I lost. I competed with Ben while eating. I won. I competed with calories and won. I competed with tv models and lost.
In freshman year, I competed with the other girls on body size and felt good when I was smaller, but felt utterly gross when I wasn't. I competed with my teachers to see who was right. They usually won which was upsetting. I competed with myself again, winning this time,
only to completely lose myself in the process, so I guess I lost.
It's either a win or a loss. Never a tie. It's black or white. Never gray.
I hate it, and not sure why I do it, or why I can't stop.
I was competitive when Ed wasn't a part of me, I played to be the best at soccer and baseball, but somewhere along the lines,
Ed stepped in and I took it to the extremes like most things I do.
Unconsciously, I think, because I am quiet and not a lot of people notice me, I felt as though controlling something others couldn't, in this case,
weight, was my strong suit. I could deny myself food and thus lose weight, and that, in my fucked up head, was
success and power. I had some sort of
evil power over everyone around me because Ed gave me this special talent of controlling my food intake.
Turns out it's not all that powerful, eh? Turns out Ed is the powerful, controlling one, and I'm just the little puppet on the strings.
So why not do something about it, knowing that I am just Ed's toy for fun?
Why not stop all this bullshit and just be me again?
Couldn't tell ya. I can't even answer that for myself. I'm just as confused as an outsider.
I'm finding myself now, comparing and competing with the people around me, mostly in terms of how much they eat compared to how much I eat, and how much they exercise and how much I exercise.
Exhausting.
It's a never-ending cycle in which I can never win.
Ed gives me the false allusion that I am winning, but in reality I am losing big time.
I am slowly losing my life, my dreams, myself.
It's a crazy world, though, because some days I am totally fine. I am far from
any competitive thoughts and I feel good about my progress and body and everything. And yet there are other days, where I am
completely and utterly lost and hate everything about myself and life.
Some days I feel so incredibly positive about my future and about recovery; kicking Ed in the face.
I feel amazing on these days. I wish I could have more of these. That'd be nice.
It's a constant battle right now and I'm not sure if I'm winning or losing and that is killing me.
I want to win. But Ed wants to win more.
How can I make myself better than Ed? How can I
win the battle with
him, instead of the others around me?
That is the question.
{Sorry for the rather depressing post...but it needed to happen. See you Wednesday for a lighter one.}