Tag Archives: loathing

I really loathe walking…but I’m going to do it anyway

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When I lived in a small town in Oregon, I actually walked everywhere and I loved it. If I’m walking to somewhere, I enjoy it. However, if I’m walking just to walk, walking to fulfill a fitness goal, I kind of really hate it. Yet, I’m about to head out on a walk/jog because I bought this Fitbit and I have a goal of 10,000 steps and the only way to do that is to leave my house. Unfortunately, there is NOTHING close by I can walk to. If I want to walk about 6 miles, I can walk to downtown, but I’m not sure I have 12 miles in me today.

I wish there was a walking app that had a “what’s nearby?” feature that showed what’s of interest that you can walk to. I’d walk to the library, but it’s closed of Sundays.  The only other thing I know of in my neighborhood is a Walmart and I don’t really want to walk around a Walmart.

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So after some googling, I found a rec center nearby, so I’m going to walk over there. Unfortunately, the pool is closed on Sundays, but I think the rest of the center is open. If nothing else, I can go and get more information.

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Expression through art *Trigger Warning for self-harm and eating disorders*

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I hate me. I was overcome with self-hatred tonight. I hate that I’m a giant blob of fat and I am disgusting and revolting nothing I do changes that. IMG_20141026_200125

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Trying out digital art

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My tablet has a couple art apps on it, but I’ve never tried them out. I’m very much a physical art kind of gal. However, I have no clue where I’ve put my art supplies and my counselor gave me the assignment to do some kind of art this week, so I thought I’d give this a try.

Digital art is weird to me. I don’t understand the various tools and brushes, I don’t know how to get looks or techniques I am familiar with on paper. However, I did enjoy myself.

I made two pieces, and I liked the other better, but the app crashed partway through…

In the one above, I tried to convey my hatred of food. One of the insanities of my bulimia is that I loathe food, but I eat and vomit food all day long.

I resent food because it is required for life. I resent if because I can’t resist it. It mocks me. It knows how I long to be free of it, and how I never will be. I loathe it, it returns my loathing. I punish myself with food, and food punishes me by causing me to gain weight. I punish my body for being a vessal that contains food by cutting and mutilating it.

If I could be free of food, truly free, I would do so in an instant. There is a part of me that still believes if I can cease from food altogether, I won’t die, but instead accomplish what so many have sought. I don’t need food. Not I. I just can’t stop eating it. Damn food.

Food makes me feel powerless. It makes me feel subjugated. If I could master food instead of it mastering me, I could become ethereal. I could be light. I could release my spirit.

Instead I am trapped. Bound by the shackles of arbitrary nutrition. Imprisoned within a massive, bluberous cell of a body. Try as I might to escape, I am held by an ever tightening grip.

And nothing will ever change for me.