Too much food forced on me, PMS, and a series of overwhelming events has rendered me a shivering glob of former humanity.
I hate how much food I've been eating! I HATE it! I want to be thin, to wither away...fade away.
Thought: when asked about my relationship with my body, I realized it's nonexistant. Undefineable. The closest thing I could come up with was that of a master and a "good slave", the kind you never notice until you decide to punish him/her. My body is so below my attention, I use it merely to convey me from point A to point B. ...but your body has to be so much more than that to you--your body IS you,and you are your body.
But when it comes down to it, I don't hate my body. At least, not in a special way. I hate myself, and that's why I do these terrible things to myself (sick, right?) I hate my body as an extension of that self-hatred.
And I am fat, fatter, fattest. And I...don't feel well with the world. All is not well.
No comments:
Post a Comment