Journal Entry 5-16-21
Have you ever known the feeling of just needing to be smaller and smaller and smaller. Not because of diet culture, or the perfect thinspo post, or getting a summer bod. Instead, you just need to be small, to shrink away, to become invisible and untouchable. Because it’s safer. It’s less stressful. It’s just....less. I hate being touched, I hate the feeling of everyone looking at me and judging me (even though I know that’s not the case). I hate the constant, overwhelming, feeling that judging eyes are on you everywhere at all times, so I must be perfect, graceful, funny, calm, composed, happy, mellow, cool, and on and on. I feel like the only time I can relax, can breath, can act myself is when I’m alone. So when I’m in public, there’s a constant weight/pressure/demand for no slip ups. The exhaustion wears me thin. It pushes me to hide. I don’t do what I do for attention. I don’t act the way I act so people will notice me. I want to be smaller and to be less so I can blend into the background, to the corner where I can breath. Where I can curl up and hide away from the eyes. I know it’s impossible. I know it’s unreasonable in reality. But I do not care. I cannot bring myself to because while it’s not a common or true reality, it’s my reality. And the only way to escape it, in my mind, is to retreat into myself and disappear from it all.
So no, I don’t have an ed because I’m obsessed with being skinny or thin or the ideal women or have the bets Jody it because I’m fat phobic. I suffer from an ed because I feel trapped, overwhelmed, and out of control of others perception. I suffer from an ed because of my sadness and anger surrounding an issue I cannot control. I don’t know how to escape this reality. I fear I never will.