Now Playing Tracks

It’s hard to love my body, when subconsciously I never felt l need one. I am a mind, a soul, a personality, STUCK with a body that I personally don’t care about and don’t want to waste my time and brain waves on. What I care about is my family’s opinion (and sometimes boys’, but to a minor degree). I am a nerd; I want to read books and study science and play board games or quiz-type games for fun. All the things I want to do and enjoy doing just seem to require my brain. But ever since i was little, my family constantly reminded me that i was fat, MAKING me worry about the body, until two years ago I couldn’t take it and started to starve myself. Well, now I’m in recovery, and I’m supposed to learn to love this body… but how do I love it, when my whole life it just felt like a nuisance, something I didn’t care about but was Pushed to care about and feel ashamed of… Anorexia made me obsess about it and waste SO MUCH TIME on it against my personal predisposition, and I’m just so tired of it, I don’t want to think about it anymore, in a negative OR in a positive manner.. can I please just be a mind? Just a head in a jar, like Nixon in Futurama? I just want to get back to my books and video games and research and grand fantasy projects! I don’t want to care about the physical for another second…

This summer I will be going to Russia to visit all my Russian relatives - my father, my grandparents, my aunt and cousin and his family. Last time they saw me I was at my highest way, before I started dieting and slipped into anorexia. Now I’m on my third attempt at recovery and I’m trying to deal with gaining weight, but I keep catching myself thinking: shit, when I go to Russia I won’t be at my low weight. I won’t look emaciated, I won’t look anorexic. Some part of me - some BIG part of me - wants to go there looking “at my worst” and see their response, see the shock on their faces, see them worry and try to feed me back to normalcy. It won’t happen, cause I’m already looking fairly normal… And it makes me sad. Maybe it’s because my russian relatives always pointed out that I was heavy, always made me feel fat, and I just want to show them “see! there! I’m not fat anymore! Got what you wanted?” But still there’s just a longing to be SICK, and have them WORRY. I would think I’m just a hypochondriac, but the thing is: I hate to say that I’m sick, I hate to come off as complaining, I despise asking for help; even at my worst, when anyone expressed concern I denied being sick, tried to brush everything off, said that I’m fine and not to worry… while internally drinking in that concern. I want people to realize I’m sick even as I deny it. I crave concern and care even as I brush it off and fight against it. I got as far as realizing this desire in me, but I don’t know what it means or what to do with it. Why do I want to be sick and a concern to my family?

We make Tumblr themes