Be kind to you

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The beauty of blogging is in the freedom to write or not write. I have not been writing lately for no particular reason other than it just has not been the right time and I have not been in the right mindset. That said, my struggle to “be” continues. At times the fight is harder and in rare moments I am able to find some peace. I cherish those moments. Walks by the dunes, staring at the beach, the sky, the stars, drawing, designing, making clothes.

Then, there, I fell free, connected, one body, one soul. My physical appearance no longer matters. My bulging stomach becomes an insignificant worry and the XXL clothes? Well … just another thing of this world.

Since I last wrote, I have moved away from London, traveled to Africa and now back in the Netherlands. It has been a long long journey. I started a new job, a tedious, toxic one, but that was my choice. Now I need to work on getting out of it and finding something better. Living a well deserved life demands effort.

When I am not drained of energy, I motivate myself towards my freedom. Towards being the person that I really want to be. Although that remains undefined, I know aspects of what brings me peace within. Creativity being one of them. Self-expression, whether confronting a small conflict or asserting my ideas is another.

Since I have been denying myself of that right to “be”, it seems easier to give in and settle with the mistaken habits, of being someone else; until I realize, all I am doing is giving my power away to invisible influences. Quickly, I lose myself.

So, the struggle continues. I suspect, there is a high probability that  this will be a lifetime struggle. Though I hope, it will become easier with time.

I used to think that I needed a break from the World because it was so mean to me. Truth is, I was cruel to myself. Then I had another realization. There will always be bitter times, the trick is to live it. Feel it. I do not want to forget or escape anymore. It has not worked. Bingeing, over-exercising, starving, trying to be perfect has not worked. Self-torture has failed. Self-love is surely the answer.

I hope to have a little more of it today, tomorrow and in all the other days I have left on this earth.

This I write to you and myself, so we both remember to “be”.

izaotee

New day ! Wednesday

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I was nervous about fashion class yesterday. It was a field trip. Gaining all this weight back and more reminds me of embarassing moments. Times when I couldn’t walk as fast as the rest of the class. When I would pretend to laugh and complain inside if I couldn’t enjoy hiking with my brother. When I was picked last at team sports. I had urges, thoughts about a cookies and more. I was genuinely hungry. So I had a cereal bar.

At coffee time after our retail research I had a chai tea latte. It was in a food hall at Selfridges. I was surrounded by food while stressed in class. Not the best of all situation. During our discussion I thought about a box of pop tarts. Well because I heard about them in movies and wondered what they would taste like. Buying a whole box would not be wise in this moment of weakness.

When the class ended we all walked out. I was the fattest. Embarrassed to buy that pop tart box. I walked out. In the streets on my way home I felt proud. Once again for not giving in.

One day I hope food will simply be an accessory to my life. Not the whole outfit.

I thought I did it… until

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Yesterday started off well.

Gym, no calorie counting, three meals and two snacks.

No fear of food or uncontrollable cravings.

When obsessive thoughts tried to settle in my mind I chased them away by sitting there and assessing what I was feeling in the moment.

Little conversations in my head to avoid clouding my judgment and running to food for its numbing effect. I told myself that I need not to be fearful or anxious about every little thing life throws at me. Why was I so scared of myself and my life. Enough already.

Shopped then went home. No stops for food. Did not feel the need to, did not want to.

I the evening I called my mum on Skype and prayed with her. I did not want to call her. It was not the prayer that I did not want to do, it was calling her. I just did not want to talk to her last night. I had no news to say. I was feeling good about myself. But I called anyways because I had promised to call her to pray everyday.

Truth is I wish I didn’t. I can tell her I don’t want to call but a little part of her dies every time. She gets sad when I don’t and worried I won’t pray. I wish she trusted me to pray on my own which I do. Tomorrow I am going to try and tell her tell her I don’t want to call or talk to her. Tell her I can pray on my own like an adult I am. I will try not to care about what she thinks or feels.

Anyway I guess that was the trigger to my downfall. Doing something I don’t want to do leads my mind to disconnect from my body. My brain drifts off to its sweet and devilish escape. It craves food. At the time I did not know why I wanted a fix. Now as I am writing I do. I once again drove myself into a trap : doing something I did not want to just to please another.

So I binged. To end the day. I wanted a different day. One that was clean. Not perfect. I am done with seeking perfection. What is the point? I will never find it. It is not worth the pain. I just want to live. That is all.

Lesson learned: Call mom tomorrow, no lies, tell her you can and you will pray on your own and that there is no need to call her every second of every day. You are grown now.

If I don’t I will be hurt- suppress- escape —- to food

I want to and I must

F for Fat not Fine

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It began at 2 am.
Could not sleep.
First thought Food. Obsession settles in again.
I tried to stay in bed, read, listen to music, watch a movie.
My back hurt from all the anxiety. The only place I felt comfortable was on the floor of my living room wrapped up in a bed cover.
I felt pain, sadness and fear trying to find a way out of me. I could not pin point what caused it.
Felt alone, missed my dad and was worried about people’s criticisms when they see me during my trip home at the end of the month.

Ashamed
20 kg in one month. I only accountable to myself I know. `Right now I feel I failed.
Failed ;myself for bingeing and not finding the willpower to fight it.
I try really hard and end up doing the most random things.
After I curled up on the floor. I went back to my bed and listened to music.
It only relieved the pain temporarily. I felt tears running down my face. What the heck was happening. I had no idea I had so much hurt cocooned inside of me. I just let it be. Laid there crying. Sat there crying. Pathetic? Who cares. I couldn’t careless. I needed those moments last night. Why? I still don’t know.

Staring to escape
Still sleepless. I ended up watching cars drive by my window. I enjoy observing things, people, cars, birds. Staring out there in an empty space. I like the idea that I can see them and they have no clue I am watching. Sounds creepy? I have no intention to hurt. I enjoy because I am sheltered from their thoughts and judgments, real or unreal. I just watch no criticisms or prejudice of whoever passes by. There by my window I stayed. Tears were still running down my cheeks.
I stayed there, as if I found a moment of peace until the urges came back again. It pulled me to a loaf of bread, a chocolate bar.

Exhausted from the fight
I am fighting. Constantly. Sometimes I just want to give up. Right now I do.
I can if I want to but I don’t want to entirely. I don’t want to wasted my life in a centre or begging for help to my family. It will only worsen whatever is happening.

I am not Fine and I feel Fat. I am> Overweight now. I am> trying to be in touch with my feelings. I want > out. I have had enough of Food taking control over my life.
I want out. An ending to this Binge.