Thanks again to Peas and Crayons for this weekly event that brings hundreds of bloggers together from all over the world…
Unfortunately, unlike my last post, the bad far outweighs the good in these past few days. I have had zero motivation to blog and photograph, although I still find joy in reading and appreciating all of you guys and the posts and photos that you do.
Pretty much, the only good thing that has happened in the past week is me getting a good grade on my first Psychology exam.
If you follow me on Twitter, then you know that yesterday I had a very hard time.
Remember that picture I posted of myself sprinting to the finish line at my 10K last month? Well, I put it as my profile picture on Facebook because I was really proud of my performance in that race.
Well, a guy that I’ve known since high school, and now go to college with and hung out with a lot freshman year, decided to message me today that I should change my profile picture immediately because it’s not attractive. Did I mention that I kind of had a thing with this guy freshman year, too?
As you can imagine, that crushed me. Yes, I know that it’s just Facebook and that it shouldn’t matter, but this was from a guy that, at one point, meant a lot to me and who I thought had turned into at least an okay person (definitely not the greatest, but still I give people the benefit of the doubt).
This guy knows that I struggle with my self-esteem and self-image. His comment just made me completely break down. I felt like that little girl way back in the third grade that was crying alone in her bedroom the day that she found out that she had to wear glasses from that day on (it was a big deal at the time, no one else wore glasses yet). This extends way beyond me and my anorexia, which obviously compounds this issue immensely. I’ve finally come to realize that I’ve struggled with the way I look since the third grade. Since I was eight years old!
And, so, I cried. I of course had to say something because I just didn’t want to give him more power than I already had by allowing him to get to me. I said that he was being shallow and that I posted that picture and not an edited-the-crap-out-of-so-I-look-fake-and-perfect picture because of what it represents to me. Of how much I’ve grown mentally and physically. I was so proud that day. I beat my goal time and got second on my age group; finishing in the top 100 runners. Hard work isn’t pretty. And here he was not understanding any of that and just focusing on the fact that after running 6.1 miles and sprinting for all my life was worth for the last 0.1 I didn’t look hot when the photographer went “click”.
The worst part is, even though he isn’t really a part of my life anymore, and I’m now with the man of my dreams who I think genuinely wants to spend the rest of his life with me (and I with him) and would love me even if I was a leper, I can’t let it go. I can’t forget it. I can’t let myself move on. And I hate myself for that. Despite how far I’ve come my mind is still so messed up and can’t handle a direct assault like that.
I don’t know what to do…
I don’t know how to come back from this. I can’t rebound. At first I cried; of course I cried. When you’re sad you cry. Then I got angry, so, I decided to run. And run I did, despite it being the heat of the day, because if I didn’t get out of the house I felt like I honestly would have started throwing and breaking things. It helped for a little bit, but now here I am again back in my little ball crying. And it makes me feel like a child.
Apologies for possible the most depressing WIAW post ever. I hate how the two events had to coincide, but I just can’t force myself to make a fake-happy post just for the purpose of WIAW. This is still a blog about me. My life. My recovery. Food takes a back seat to what’s going on on the inside… just as it always should.