One of the bloggers I was devoted to wrote her last entry. Daisy is disappearing. She writes so beautifully. I recommend finding her blog, and quickly reading all of it, before it's permanently deleted. :( I don't know why this makes me so sad.
I guess I'm always looking for understanding. I crave knowledge. I'm obsessed with how the human brain works. Why is So-and-So addicted to drugs? How does person A. have the skills and will to overcome them, but person B. doesn't? Why does This person struggle to keep food down, where That person it is all they can do to eat at all?
What happened? Troubled childhood? Genetic? Everyone is different, and for me, reading other people's stories make me feel closer to understanding the subcontext clues to mine.
My brother and I talk a lot about Binge disorders. He's the only one who truly knows where I'm coming from, because he suffers with a different substance. Mine being food/weight, his being drugs. I can call him crying about how guilty I feel about eating, and he relates, he talks to be like an AA buddy or something.
I guess that's what I've been searching for on this damn thing. Someone to understand. Someone to simply say, you're not crazy, I get it. I have no girl friends I can talk to about it. My husband's rose colored glasses won't let him believe I have an actual problem. He seems to think I'm just "insecure." If you met me you'd believe I was the most confident person you've ever met. I play my role well. The happy, perky, "alway's happy" Mandy that everyone hares to love. Inside. I'm bitter. Inside I'm cold. Inside I'm crude. Demented. Fucked up. Maybe subconsciously I just decided to wear it. Maybe I am smiling, but maybe if people see me phsically wasting away, they might stop and re-think some things. Take back their conception of me. Respect me.
You can't expect things from others though you can't learn to do for yourself.
There's a lot I'm not proud of. Nothing compared to other people's woes. I find myself submerging in theirs. To decend my own deeper into my heart, my soul. I think years of doing that is coming back to haunt me. Starting to take it's tole.
114 this evening.
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