I have been awake for about 38 hours. The total calories I had today was 305! I haven't went that low in awhile. I kept thinking to myself today that I had to try to eat something because there were points where I felt light-headed. So I ate a couple saltines and it settled my stomach. I know I can keep this willpower...I have to.
Once I hit my target weight it will be better. I will feel more emotionally stable. I will be beautiful!
This, of course, is what I am hoping.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Spriling Down
I am being suffocated by the endless cycle of extreme pressure.
My phone has endless missed calls, mostly from family members. I called my father back to be reminded that I need to think about him and how he wants to see me graduate. It is my choice, he says, but it's important to both my parents also. I just need to think about graduating first...passing classes is the first thing I need to be worried about.
The person I have been avoiding lately is my mother. I have no idea how to tell her what is going on with me. She has been telling me how "proud" she is of me that I am finally becoming the vision of her ideal perfect daughter. I am finally fulfilling her vision of beauty with every inch that is melting off my body. With every single calorie consumed I am reminded of a time many years ago.
I was in the kitchen, once again looking in the cupboards for something to fill an emotional void. As I pull out the greasy potato chips, she walks in and looks at me with disappointment. I got used to it, but I remember something particular she did that day. She puffed out her lips, filling her cheeks with air, nonverbally suggesting to me that if I ate those I would get even fatter than I was.
I am finally becoming her dream daughter; and with everything I eat, it can be taken away. Shit! I know I ate more than 1,000 calories today. I fucking hate myself.
Then I look over at a package she sent me a few days ago...sitting by the card saying how proud she was of me.
"Melissa-
I'm so happy for you that your achieving your weight goal! I
just want you to know how proud I am of you and your new
independence.
Here's a little present and more to come.
Love you,
Mom"
I feel a sense of joy as a tear open the package. I pull out lingerie; 3 pairs of underwear and pajamas. My heart sinks as I hold them up, one-by-one, in front of my face. She sent me underwear that was 2 sizes too small.
I am reminded of the movie Spanglish when the overbearing mother gives her daughter clothes clothes that are too small in order to convince her to loose weight. "Your going to look great once you loose that weight!" Words I know too well.
My phone has endless missed calls, mostly from family members. I called my father back to be reminded that I need to think about him and how he wants to see me graduate. It is my choice, he says, but it's important to both my parents also. I just need to think about graduating first...passing classes is the first thing I need to be worried about.
The person I have been avoiding lately is my mother. I have no idea how to tell her what is going on with me. She has been telling me how "proud" she is of me that I am finally becoming the vision of her ideal perfect daughter. I am finally fulfilling her vision of beauty with every inch that is melting off my body. With every single calorie consumed I am reminded of a time many years ago.
I was in the kitchen, once again looking in the cupboards for something to fill an emotional void. As I pull out the greasy potato chips, she walks in and looks at me with disappointment. I got used to it, but I remember something particular she did that day. She puffed out her lips, filling her cheeks with air, nonverbally suggesting to me that if I ate those I would get even fatter than I was.
I am finally becoming her dream daughter; and with everything I eat, it can be taken away. Shit! I know I ate more than 1,000 calories today. I fucking hate myself.
Then I look over at a package she sent me a few days ago...sitting by the card saying how proud she was of me.
"Melissa-
I'm so happy for you that your achieving your weight goal! I
just want you to know how proud I am of you and your new
independence.
Here's a little present and more to come.
Love you,
Mom"
I feel a sense of joy as a tear open the package. I pull out lingerie; 3 pairs of underwear and pajamas. My heart sinks as I hold them up, one-by-one, in front of my face. She sent me underwear that was 2 sizes too small.
I am reminded of the movie Spanglish when the overbearing mother gives her daughter clothes clothes that are too small in order to convince her to loose weight. "Your going to look great once you loose that weight!" Words I know too well.
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