Messy Nights

Tonight was a mess.

A mess full of bravery and heartache.

A mess full of cowardness and sarcasm.

Because messes hardly ever make sense in my world.

Eating disorders are so stupid and sucky and they complicate my freaking brain!
Eating disorders are so scary and I often get symptoms that freak the hell out of me. Because of this, I texted my counselor tonight and told her I can't see her anymore. It wasn't helping. It was way too comfortable. So I'm now in search of a new counselor who can deal with my betrayal trauma and eating disorder.
Awesome.
(The above 'awesome' was sarcasm.)
I hate change.
I hate feeling like I'm not the super awesome woman people seem to think that I am.
I promise I want to be awesome.
I promise I freaking want to be awesome!!!

______Angry Silence______

Counseling was my crutch. I was paying someone to be my friend for an hour once a week. It sounds a lot sadder when I type it out like that. Welcome to Dysfunction Junction!

---I know you don't know this but writing this post is taking hours upon hours. I kinda planned to crank out some words for this crapfest and get to bed early. Oh well.---

I was thinking about my eating disorder now versus my eating disorder in high school. What are the similarities? What are the differences? Although I could go on and on with possible answers to these questions, one of the things I've noticed is that I treat myself harshly when other people treat me harshly. Because I'm an outwardly kind person, the only person I can be mean to is me. I don't see the logic in that when I write it out but my brain has just always reacted that way. Oh, I'm hurting? I better hurt myself more. I better grab the reigns a little tighter and control things as best I can.

When my husband walked out on what could've been a great life, I questioned everything I've ever done in marriage. I questioned my worth and realized men make me feel worth something. I started hanging out with a 20 year old college student in one of my classes later and later into the nights which fueled my desire to be loved even more. His body language was clear---he was interested. But interested in what? Me as a person? Or sex? I'm glad I was in counseling during this time because I would openly speak about "said boy" and one time, my counselor asked me what having sex with him would mean. I stumbled but couldn't find an answer that would be intelligent enough. She explained that sex with him would not mean worth and it definitely wouldn't mean he liked me. I WAS SO OFFENDED. And now, it makes me laugh that I was offended. Of course he didn't love me. Of course he didn't value me. Of freaking course.

A lot of my emotions over my divorce stem from how I've always felt about myself. Always. In marriage and out of marriage. I'm not as confident as I portray myself to be. I often second guess my choices and my actions because they probably aren't up to par with the rest of the world. I'm usually worried about judgment and failure and how everyone sees me.

I'm worried about being good enough for another guy, fitting in with my friends, and being awesome for my kids. Everyone expects me to slap a smile on my face and I do it most of the time---and when I don't do it, I feel guilty and I worry about whether that person will just abandon me to find a newer, happier friend. So I'm constantly obsessing over being happy and funny.

Can you sense my abandonment issues in all of this? Can you sense my need for self worth so badly? If I can't figure out what self worth is to me, I think I might die---quite literally since I'm usually starving or vomitting or exercising my ass off at the gym. And guess what? At this point, however crappy and pathetic my life may seem, I do not want to die. I want to enjoy my life and fight my battles and have confidence and change the world.

Peter Pan is always telling Wendy that he doesn't want to grow up but you know what? It's time. It really is time to be brave and grow up.

I can do this.