This morning I was in the locker room at the gym, minding my own business, when a woman said to me, “Excuse me — I just have to tell you, you are the most fit person I know.” The thing is, she know me. Yes, we see each other at the gym every morning, but that doesn’t mean we know each other, does it? Anyway, I know she probably meant it as a compliment of sorts, but it just makes me feel so incredibly uncomfortable when people comment on my body, even in indirect terms. Plus it helps my crazy mind to rationalize why I shouldn’t be eating, since obviously “I look just fine!” It’s incredible that after all these years, I can somehow manage to still cling to denial as much as I do.
To be completely random — I seem to switch topics at the drop of a hat — I am absolutely, positively, 100% terrified of speaking in public. I almost decided against going to college because I knew I’d have to take a communications class that required me to give speeches! There are very, very few things I fear more. Just my luck, then, that it turns out that my graduate school is really big on presentations. As much as I hate taking medication, I actually went to see a psychiatrist to get anti-anxiety meds because there is no way I can deal with giving speeches if I don’t have some sort of chemical assistance! Anyway, last class I gave a presentation… without knowing that I’d be doing it. I’m not sure that was such a bad thing — I didn’t have to obsess about it for weeks beforehand! I mean, I knew I’d be giving it at some point, but I didn’t know that it was going to be so soon. I’m kind of glad that I got it over with, though.
This is pretty much old news to me, but I do tend to ruminate over the same things repeatedly. I very much dislike social situations, because I really do believe that I am socially inept. I always feel awkward and stupid and out of place. But there’s the added aspect of, I guess, my general vibe. I must have a sign on my forehead or something that proclaims every insecurity I own, because it seems like I invite rejection. You know how some people are likable, and some people are just… not? Yeah. I’m the latter. And quite honestly, I am not totally sure why. I already know that I feel fat and repulsive on the outside… and at this point, I think I believe that it’s a general reflection of how ugly I am on the inside. There’s no real reason why I should anticipate anything other than what I get — after all, I can’t even come up with any reasons why to love myself, so how could I possibly expect anyone else to do that? Sometimes it makes everything seem so impossibly futile… I’m not going to be able to change my inherent essence no matter how hard I try, so why even bother?? That’s just asking for more emotional abuse.
Moving on from that particular brand self-indulgence… Yesterday I had an extended chat with my nutritionist. There really is no need for me to chronicle the minutiae of it, but she is pulling out the fear stops on me… as in, “If you don’t do X, I will have to do Y.” X, of course, being weight gain, and Y being alternately “I will not be able to see you anymore” and IP. Now, I know I hate being IP. It makes me feel like an objectified lab rat. And to appeal to my ED mind, the end result would be the same — I’d end up gaining weight, and at a much faster rate in an inpatient setting, with a higher goal weight. It really does make more sense to do this on my own on an outpatient basis, because then I wouldn’t have to disappear from the planet for a while. All of this makes such logical sense… so why am I still so terrified of it?? I’m not even going to mention the lack of support, because honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do with it if I had it. It isn’t that. It’s just me.