Food doesn’t work


Yesterday and today have been horrible. I try not to complain too much but the lack of interesting happenings in my life during those two days are taking a toll on my mood. Part of the reasons that are making me feel this way is the fact that I am still unemployed. Since I graduated I tried internships, opening a business, applying for jobs, networking. None of which worked. I tried it both in law for which I have a degree in and in fashion for which I am passionate. So these past two days I have trying to cheer myself up. But nothing ! I ended up trying to find something to do in between meals. Watching movies and spending the days in bed. I also painted but my whole heart was not into it.

I started applying for jobs again. Online and using some networking. I have no idea how long that will take. Regardless I am most worried about how long I will be in this state. I feel as if I am letting my life slip away while I fixate on my failures.

I was never the going-out, surrounded by friends type of person. Though I tricked myself into thinking that I was because it was what others did. First year of university was when I really went out there. Made friends. Unfortunately they were erasmus students, so they left the next year. Loneliness does not agree well with me. I have had trouble making friends ever since. Well, that part of my past ties in with my move to any country really. I am terrible at keeping on touch, as I categorise those I meet with different chapters of my life. Chapters in which I never seemed to be the same person. Where I would mould myself to the new environment and fail to really be in touch with who I really am.

So here I am back in London with one friend V. She has been spending time with me, but she works, so she has limited time to. Since I am unemployed I have very little social interactions. I feel alone. There is another reason for my sadness. I can’t seem to pick myself up. I want to apply for jobs. I wish I could stay here in London forever but because of my visa I can’t. The prospect of going home is painful. I don’t fit-in there. I don’t feel comfortable. I feel caged. There is yet another reason.

Right now I wish I had the courage to put on the baggiest clothes and buy some art materials. Come back and sink into my sketch book. If only I could generate money by doing that and only that. I wouldn’t even care if law was on the side. If only. In the mean time I turn to food for comfort and escape. It really doesn’t do the trick. I refuse to eat all day so when I don’t eat. I am still lost, the reasons are still there so present. I have conversations in my head to quiet the negative thoughts when I get tired. I simply fall asleep. Another day goes by.

I could write forever. I have no conclusions. Just that I am still frowning inside and out.



Lighter binges

I try to be aware and stay aware of my emotions. Differentiate between the real and unreal fears. While this is going on, I have to keep living. To continue on my journey. Not that of others.

Today I woke up thinking about food again. A common phenomenon when I wake up alone. Often it is because my first reaction is to escape the self-doubt, self-hatred and fear of uncertainty during these days of freedom. I never considered using a sabbatical year to start getting in touch with who I am. Away from family, Malagasy society, competitive pressure of law and move towards my creativity.

I have so much freedom now and I am always alone. Alone and aware. I have learned however that being alone and feeling alone are different. Feeling alone is harder to face. But I must because ignoring it only builds up pain that will eventually emerge. Often it manifest itself in my extreme use of food.

As often as I can, I chose to live in my reality. Instead of focusing on food and live in the clouds. When my mind drifts towards those urges I pick up a paint brush, look at photos online or simply watch a tv show. Carefully assesing whether I am numbing or distracting myself from what Is really going on. If I catch myself doing so. I would rather stop and stare. Cry, laugh, yell in my pillow. Feel.
The urges? They somehow fade away.

I recently started painting again. When I do, time stops. I never painted or drew much because I would always be to quick to judge what it looks like. I have pushed that prejudicial attitude aside and allowed self-expression. In the moment I am at peace. Food is no longer my master. I am no longer its slave.

I still ate two pain aux chocolat and a flapjack at breakfast. Then I felt guilty. Lunch was better. Now I am lying in bed. Waiting for my design class tonight.

Could this behaviour be binging?