Anonymous asked: I'm in the same boat, but on my good days I like to talk to myself in the mirror. People tend to be so serious when they look in the mirror, but talk to yourself. Watch the way you your eyes light up in amusement at the fact that you're talking to yourself! Just little things like that.
Posting because I think a lot of people are in the same boat, and I appreciate your idea.
My mom made the comment to me today, “It’s funny how you are so diminutive compared to the rest of our family.” For a reference, she was also talking about my height, as I am 5’5.5” and my sister is eight years younger and almost 5’9.” The funny thing is, I have never felt small. In fourth grade, in eighth grade, even now in college. At my lowest weight I still wouldn’t have described myself as small, I would’ve said sick. That is how I felt. Now I wouldn’t describe myself in a negative way, maybe I’d even say average. But I realized- that’s still not positive. At the end of the day, I want to describe myself in a positive, loving way.
Any tips/advice would be appreciated.
Weight restored doesn’t always mean body-positive.
Waiting to hear is nerve wracking. We find out after the 17th if he leaves for his third deployment. I just keep telling myself everything happens for a reason.
Yes, we know what we are getting into, does that mean we aren’t suppose to get emotional and miss them? Does knowing what we are getting into make it any easier? No. So this phrase is irrelevant and insensitive and if you care, you should never say this to an upset milso. #pissed #usmcgirlfriend #usmclove #imisshim #distancesucks #milso #upset #frustrated #iwanttoholdyou
My biggest pet peeve
‘I tried bulimia once.’
There’s nothing quite as lovely as a thoughtful message from someone who understands:
’Sorry you’re going through this, I tried bulimia once and it sucked.’
Bulimia does suck. The sky is also blue, and the world round.
But darling, you did not try bulimia once.
Forgive me if I’m callous, but I can’t dig up much sympathy for someone who believes gagging once and deciding it’s icky is ’bulimia’. Sure, it’s never a good thing to try to make yourself sick, unless you’ve just been poisoned. And thinking purging is a viable option isn’t exactly healthy.
But sticking your fingers down your throat and coughing and then going OH MY GOD EW is not bulimia. Fasting for a day and then ‘fainting’ in the hallway is not anorexia. And ‘getting so desperate I seriously considered anorexia or bulimia’ isn’t an eating disorder.
Bulimia is a speeding train with no brakes, bingeing and purging and bingeing and purging no matter how broke you are or how disgusting the food is or what you should be doing. It’s gorging until you can barely stand, puking until you bleed, and the city could burn to the ground and when it was over you’d still be standing in the ashes, bingeing and purging.
Anorexia is a wall of blue-gray ice, a miswired translation code that turns appetite into disgust, a terror you don’t understand, a fear so real you can see it and hear it and kiss it goodnight, an illogical logic that rewrites everything and you know you need to eat and maybe you even really want to eat but you just can’t because if you did everything would fall apart.
Desperation is digging through the garbage for nothing-something-anything to stuff in your face because you have to binge and purge right now. Desperation is standing frozen in the aisle of the grocery store for minutes/hours/years, and then buying the same calorie-free crap you always buy because you can’t eat it if it’s not safe. Desperation is swallowing laxatives like normal people swallow candy, just because you have to be empty.
And you can’t ’consider anorexia and bulimia’, as though they were for sale at the pharmacy between agoraphobia and cyclothymia.
You didn’t ‘try bulimia once’.
It’s not a diet, and it’s not a choice.
The love of my life said if he ends up getting deployed soon, like we are expecting, he wants to propose before he leaves.
Cue ALL the emotions.
On one hand I’m like: yay ring. I knew the minute I met him I wanted to marry him. We would be engaged until after I finish my bachelor’s degree and probably marry before my master’s degree. I already know the ring I want.
On the other hand I’m: terrified. Will my parents be accepting of it because we were planning on not getting engaged for another year. If he proposed that means he would deploy for 10 months which is a short deployment but it would be Afghanistan. At least his last operation was peace keeping and training ops but this is more dangerous. I just want him home safe when all is said and done. Also people grow apart with the distance and stress.
So many thoughts.