for the thoughts I can't place.
sometimes, I want to talk my friends' ears off about my problems. other times, I want them written down, but I have nowhere to do so, and this will be my solution. I'll probably censor the most sensitive things by colouring the text black, so you have to highlight it to see it. I'll put appropriate warnings where they fit.
general discretion for SH, ED, depression, drug (ab)use, et cetera.
11/07/2023 - impostor syndrome.
my twitter has been getting a lot of attention since I posted my weightloss thread, and I don't know how to feel about it.
on one hand, I think I'm happy. it's the attention I've always wanted, and sort-of envied other people for getting.
but on the other, I'm so conflicted about it too. the "after" pictures aren't really what I look like anymore. I don't even know what I weigh, and I haven't been restricting, and I certainly don't look like those pictures all the time. it doesn't feel like I'm getting attention for myself - I'm getting it for an idealized image of myself. one I'm letting people merrily believe in and follow me for.
I really just feel like an attention whore. and not in the chique, agreeable way. I feel greedy. obsessed with validation. desperate for it. so much so that I'll lie about anything to get there.
lie about my body.
lie for attention, validation, compliments.
lie about my face.
lie about my weight.
lie about how I feel.
I've set a standard for myself, that I'm pretending I adhere to, when the shit I post about my "current self" isn't even my current self. I lost my will to starve and I lost my will to binge and purge. I don't necessarily want to engage in any of my behaviors anymore, but I just expect myself to magically lose the weight I've gained. I didn't even stick to my plan for october, and certainly not the one for november thus far. I'm sick of my own shit. I want to change, but I just can't force myself to get there. my motivation is so short lived - so spontaneous - so unpredictable - I've never stuck to anything as long as I've lived, and it embarrasses me to no end. I feel like medication is the only thing that'll fix that for me, and yet I'm not even trying to improve until I can get it. it all reeks of belligerence and a lack of discipline.
I want to go back to the pain I was in at my worst. I want to go back to how "easy" I think it was looking back, but I know it never was. I was miserable. starving, weak, depressed, miserable. but it worked.
I want those quick results again but there's too much going on in my life to work for them how I did then. everyone cares too much.
...and that bring me back to that first point. the impostor syndrome; the lying. they care so much for someone they don't really know.
I crave to be back where I was, but the discomfort of changing outweights the pain of staying the same.
I wish it didn't.