Defining the Future

Don't get me wrong, I have a strong sense of who I am. If you met me today, you would think I was a lucky girl that has her life together. I would smile at you, make jokes with you, go to lunch with you, and generally be someone you admire. I am sorry to tell you it is all fake. 

I hate that I have gotten to a point in which my future seems like it will just be pointless. Just going through the motions of each day, trying to find happiness in moments, but never quite finding it. I have imagined and accepted a childless future. But only for me. I have not accepted my husband's childless future. That part really bothers me. That part makes me want to die. That part makes me sadder than anything else--because I am the problem--not him. I keep hoping that something terrible happens to me so that he can move on and find happiness with a family. Leave me here, save yourself. My future is already determined.

Here's The Deal

I keep fantasizing. Not about whatever most people do. I think about how nice it would be to have some idiot crash into me on the freeway and put me in the hospital where I'd been too sick to eat. I think about how much longer it will be before I start passing out enough that they have to take me into care. I think about how I can't say the things I need to say so I use my body to do it. The thinner I get, the more people tell me how skinny I look. I like it.

I hate the whole attention thing. It isn't the attention I want. It is the expression. Its a coded message. You noticed I lost weight, its like I told you what is wrong. We share an encoded secret. I am broken but to you it looks like I am skinny.

But for real. If I get bad enough they will have to put me into care. I will have to take time off work. I will have to talk to therapists and tell them what the fuck my problem is. That will feel nice. But I kind of feel like I might get stuck with doctors who don't get it. There is a serious problem with doctors being lazy these days.

Alone

Even in this blog. Alone.

Its depressing that I maintain the top accounts at work but miss more work than most. Probably 2 days on average month. I just get so tired. I work hard hard hard, then lose so much sleep, and get so weak. I have to take a day to recoup. And in it all I feel done. I feel tired. I feel alone at work, and alone away from work. For the few hours I have with my husband in a day, I feel companioned. I wish I had that all the time.

Related

I keep trying to compartmentalize my issues. My MRKH separate from my depression, my depression separate from my ED, my ED separate from my past trauma. But they are all connected. I believe that none of these things would have been as bad if I did not have MRKH. I bet I would have never been molested. I bet I would have never started down the path of destruction and depression to develop the ED to the point it is now. But no matter. I can't change it. I don't really want to. I want to wither.

Perfect

Perfection is an obsession that I am not alone in. I find it actually comforting that so many share two of my struggles: ED and MRKH. I hate to be defined by it but I essentially....am. I am who I am because of these things.

My old roommate is pregnant. Fuck.

Someone passively told me (meaning she was talking about it hoping I overheard-yep) that girls would not get eating disorders if they knew that it would ruin their chance to have kids. I wanted to laugh at the irony but instead it was just a direct hit. Battleship down. What does it matter how much I destroy my body if I can't have kids anyway? Maybe I was sick in the womb, maybe I always had something wrong with me and I was born this way.

I mention that I hide how bad my eating habit is. Especially now. I eat nothing all day except a few groups of food: celery, radishes, bean sprouts, lettuce ect... high water high fiber foods. Then I drink coffee, tea, and broth. If I am really struggling I will have miso soup. But by the time I get home, I have it down to a total of 25 calories for the day. Then I make sure to eat a cookie in front of him. To cook dinner and eat it in front of him. It brings it to under 300 a day. I've maintained this lower amount for 3 weeks now and lost 7 lbs.

Honestly, it is a distraction that I can take home. It is something I can do that no one else around me can do. It unfortunately helps me define my womanhood. Being thin, perfect, pretty. It is what I have because I can't be Mom. And when I have to finally tell people that I can't have kids I can blame it on myself instead of tell them what I am. That I was born this way. With ED and MRKH. That my curves concave instead of protrude like yours.

Water Weight

I have officially come to the point that I cannot talk or mention my diet or weightloss. I have a coworker who is rather catty and she blurted to me the other day "yeah, but most of its water weight, right?" I didn't know what to say. It made me feel like shit. But it also deepened my conviction.

Same coworker said to me about my new lap top case that I was okay to spend money like that because I don't have kids. Ouch. Its like she can see into me to the very things that diminish me and twist the knife on point. I hate my body. Nothing is as it should be.

Something Depressed and Cliche

I hate that I get into such deep ruts. And sometimes this happens out of nowhere. I can pin point why I am so sad but I can't figure out why it hurts me so much.

Things at work have been great. I've been the top employee for two years. But now they are changing groups around and I will have a whole new fucked up work load and my pretty and pristine work will go to someone else. It depresses me. I want to keep what I did. And I know they do this because they know I will turn it around. But they don't know how much I need things to be just so. Things must be in order, they must make sense, they must meet my standard. And when they don't, I freak out. I hate myself, and my body takes the hit.

Tonight I couldn't have drinks with my friends because I didn't want the calories. And then I realized that I was slipping into my bad eating habits from my previous job. Where I couldn't control a damn thing so I controlled my calorie intake to merely 200 calories a day. The fucked up thing has always been I know these things are bad but I want to do them. And I want to do it now and have for a week...ever since I found out about the change. And I lost 5 lbs in a week.

I'm tired of this. Tired of my life. Tomorrow I have to go to a super bowl party and I want to fake sick because I don't want to be around food.

This I do

-Scratch myself raw in the shower
-Pull out my eyelashes
-Constantly plan meals but never eat them
-Eat less than 500 calories a day
-Use herbal laxatives
-Hate my body
-Plan every menu each day so I won't go over

I know that these things are developing a potentially bad health system. It is not every day I am less than 500 calories but I feel awful when it is. I never throw it up. So let's say I ate well but then someone wants t go out for drinks and happy hour. I know I am going over. I will just pop some herbal laxatives when I get home.

At work, I consume around 100-200 calories all day. Some of my co-workers have noticed this and have started making comments about my meals. So now I try not to eat around them at all. Deniability.

But I am not an anorexic. I don't excessively work out. I can't, I don't get the time, and I don't have the energy. Because of that I am still way bigger than I would like to be. Plus, I am also afraid that I will pass out if I push myself to do that. And if that happens then everyone is going to lose their shit.

Oh Happy Dagger

The different roles I play are vastly different than the one in here. At work I am the top employee, I make jokes, people laugh. People even like me enough to buy me things on a whim, beg for my attention, all but start a fan club. I don't write these things because I have some sort of sense to brag. My point is I don't care that much about it. I do it all because it is a wonderful distraction from eating and hating myself.

At home, I am a devout wife. I make dinner the moment the door shuts. I dote on my husband.

When the lights are off, and only my light remains, is the time I have no more distractions. Nothing left to think about but the things I try not to think about. I have no jokes for this blog. No dinner to fix.

In fact, this blog is the only place I write things like this. I am a writer so I have a hard time just writing something that has no purpose. I hate to just write this shit. It really is just shit. Just stuff that goes through my head when I can't help it.

I have been in this stale state of existence where I keep catching myself falling into a routine where I think everything is okay. Like in high school, just going through the motions. Letting life just carry me to what comes next. Its unambitious. I get angry with myself that I don't have more to do with my life. That I fear that push just like the next person and I want to jump. But if I keep taking my sweet ass time to jump...

Then again, I hate that I write "I" so much in here. So self-centered. What do I matter really? Why have I taken such an interest just because I am stuck in this head of mine?

Beauty and the Beat

I know that I do not have a high self esteem.  I constantly think about my weight.  I look in the mirror and hate literally everything I see.  And I know this is just me being crazy.  I was in a store the other day and didn't know there was a mirror in front of me and when I saw myself, for a moment, I wasn't sending daggers to every flaw on my body.  It was a strange sensation.  I will see a different person when I see a mirror and when I see a picture.  I realize I do not photograph as heavy as I think I am.  I don't know why I hate my body so much.

I heard someone say that they wanted to be the kind of wife that loves their husband and loves themselves. I wish I could do that.  I know it pains my husband to hear me fret over my image.  I feel like I hate anything I can't change.  And that leaves a lot of things to hate.

So I beat myself up, all the time.  There isn't a single thing about me that I am comfortable with.  I would change into a completely different person if I could.

I spend time bathing and scratching my skin to get all the dead skin off (somehow I think this makes me cleaner and thinner) and this week I did it too hard and drew blood behind my knee.  It didn't bother me. And I hate the idea of liking pain.  I don't like that it leans towards a cutter personality.  I don't like that when I read about tips to avoid cravings they encourage me to do that and I want to.  But I wouldn't.  One thing about my husband is he has his degree in psychology and reads about all this stuff.  So he would know if he saw scars.  I hide everything else well.  I always eat around him.  The only time I eat is around him.  To him, I always eat.  But in reality I am keeping under 500 calories a day.  At work I eat around 75 calories a day.  Or drink, rather.  Usually miso soup and broth, and tea.  Then I am free to eat around 400 calories around him.

Funny, you would think I'd be a lot thinner.  Humph.