I guess that i forgot. I forgot that it was okay not to be okay. Through all my preaching here on the blog, i neglected my own feelings. I didn’t blog because it was what i wanted. I blogged because i knew it would make others happy. I blogged because it was what i did, i feel like without my blog i am nothing. It would be different if my blog was a job, i mean it practically is with the amount of time i put into it, but at the end of the day i get no feedback and no cash. It’s like working for a pointless charity. With the blog i think i also neglected the fact that i wasn’t doing okay. I felt like i always had to put on a charade to appease others, whereas it doesn’t take me a day to get over things.

Things have to change though, i’m not okay, and i’m starting to believe i never will be.

So i took the first step today, i went to the doctor and i’m starting back on my anti-depressants. If this is the right or wrong choice, i don’t know. All i know is that i don’t want to feel how i’m feeling right now anymore. I don’t want these thoughts, and i don’t want these tears.

You can’t judge me because you’ve never been in my shoes. You’ve never known what it is to be me. Everyone has their own hardships to deal with, and this is mine.

I have always, essentially, been waiting. Waiting to become something else, waiting to be that person I always thought I was on the verge of becoming, waiting for that life I thought I would have. In my head, I was always one step away. In high school, I was biding my time until I could become the college version of myself, the one my mind could see so clearly. In college, the post-college “adult” person was always looming in front of me, smarter, stronger, more organized. Then the married person, then the person I’d become when we have kids. For twenty years, literally, I have waited to become the thin version of myself, because that’s when life will really begin. And through all that waiting, here I am. My life is passing, day by day, and I am waiting for it to start. I am waiting for that time, that person, that event when my life will finally begin.

im struggling to keep sane. i dont know if it is because im stressed. i dont know if its because of uni or if its because of my body. but either way i hate mirrors. i hate my body. i hate the way i look. i hate the way my stomach creates a roll that sits on top of my pants when i sit down. i hate the way my boobs look in every single last bra i own. i hate the way my armpits fold. i hate how big my thighs have become. i hate how my legs and tummy jiggle when i walk.

i hate the way i feel about myself.

i want to wake up in the morning and not have my first thought be able how much weight ive gained in the last couple of months.

i want to get ready for my lectures and be happy with how i look. i want to be happy.

i hate having this cloud following me around, because i can’t get rid of it. i may not show it, but every minute of the day i think about food, and what it will do to my body. i dont want to be back in this place. it makes me unhappy and confused. why am i here?

so over christmas i’m going to work out. im going to get fit again, i want to walk up a flight of stairs and not feel out of breath. i want to look in the mirror and see toned muscles. i just want to be able to tolerate my body again. i want to eat healthy, and i want to be able to eat without hating myself every bite of the way.

i just want to be okay with what i look like.

just been going through a tough time recently. everything just seems to be falling apart. i feel like doing a britney spears, shave my hair off, gain loads of weight, and just in general lose it. all my clothes feel like rags ive picked out of the garbage, my hair feels like it is fried and just doesnt look good no matter what i do, my body hates me and i hate it, everything just feels wrong. three more weeks and then i can work on getting myself back together, or maybe even go find myself again.

[youtube width="425" height="25"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DChHEf0lpEE[/youtube]

why do we do the things we do? i never wanted to care this much. i never wanted to hurt anyone. i never wanted to be hurt in return. i never wanted to be here. im sick of feeling inadequate. feeling like i’ll never be the one. i’ll never be good enough. i’ll never be pretty enough. i wont be skinny enough. i wont be who you want me to be.

i try. i try ever damn day. nobody knows how much it hurts me to pretend like it’s okay. like im okay. like im happy. like it’ll all work out okay in the end. it’s never going to be okay. i can’t change anything. i can’t fix what’s already broken. i can’t fix myself for christs sake. i can’t do anything right.

every time things start to look up for me, i do something stupid or something comes in the way and it’s ruined again. i keep falling, and i keep getting back up, but im so tired of falling. i don’t want to trip over my own feet every damn day. i want a life i can be proud of. i want friends who don’t suddenly turn their backs on me over a summer. i want family close to me. i want to wake up in the morning and not dread getting out of bed.

i just want things to be so different.

but i’m me, and i’ll never be that person. i’ll struggle every damn day.

and it doesn’t help that you put me down all the time. you think you’re such a bigger person but you forget that we all make mistakes. i’m not the first person to mess up, and i wont be the last. hopefully someday you’ll realise that your words hurt as well. you’ll realise that the more you make me work, the less i’ll want to. you can’t make someone want something. the more you push, the more i push away. one day i’ll walk away. because we can’t keep this up. and if it means that i’ll have to be the stronger person and walk away from an unhealthy situation, maybe one day you’ll thank me instead of punishing me for wanting to be happy.

Norway, to all the families and friend of those who lost loved ones, and to all the people of norway.. my heart goes out to you.

nothing that anyone can say or do will make any of the events of this week disappear, however you should all be proud to be from such a beautiful country with a smart government that will do whatever it takes to make justice for all of the lives lost.

“practice what you preach” but sometimes it just isn’t as simple as that. truth is i believe every single woman/guy out there should love themselves inside and out. we should embrace our bodies and make the most of what we’ve got. but everyone’s allowed to struggle. everyone’s allowed to have bad days when they look in the mirror and hate everything they see. these days shouldn’t consume our lives. as much as i want all of this to be as easy as it is to write, it isn’t. i’ve struggled, i’ve failed to let it not consume my life. i gave into the temptation of having a perfect body years ago, and i’m still paying the price.

i still haven’t come to terms with my body. sometimes i love myself, and some days i look in the mirror and fall to pieces. i still haven’t come to terms with the fact that i will never be happy with my body. i will never entirely love myself inside and out. now i know this sounds horrible, and sometimes frightening to those struggling, but it’s a part of recovery. it’s acknowledging that my eating disorder is, and always will be, a part of me. it’s also acknowledging that i don’t have to give into the temptations of forcing my body into a certain ideal that i believe is beautiful.

i’ve considered the alternatives to being unhappy with my body for eternity. the alternatives scare me though. for example, plastic surgery. the amount of times i’ve sat staring at clinic websites, figuring out when i’d have time to “recover” and how i’d afford to pay for it. then the reality kicks in, and i think to myself where would i draw the line? where’s the limit? if i got my boobs done, what’s to stop me from fixing my nose. then what about a cheeky little liposuction. then what about filling my lips, and the list just continues. i’m scared that if i started something that adjusted my body to make me happier, i’d go down the same road that i went down with bulimia. i don’t want anything to control me, i don’t want to change myself in order to fit into an ideal that i didn’t mean to create. i don’t want to be unhappy because i can’t have the body i want.

then again, i already am. i envy girls with flat stomachs, skinny thighs, narrow hips, big boobs. mostly because i know i will never have any of that. i will never be the ‘ideal’ me. but the hardest part of “knowing” this is accepting it.

i’m currently in limbo. i know there’s nothing i can do to make it right, but i still want to try. i still want to diet, i want to exercise, i want to be that girl. i just don’t know how to accept it entirely, and i’m scared that i never will.

i can feel my life slipping through the cracks of my fingers, like sand just blowing away in the wind. i don’t know what to do to stop it. i don’t know how to go about feeling alive and happy anymore.