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Re: Say something you wish you could say to their face. -
January 22nd 2018, 07:53 PM
It's not that my parents have never called me beautiful, it's that I never truly heard them call me that. In my house, "beautiful" is a noun, which is phenomenal, but potentially damning to a daughter that needed to hear it as an adjective. As an adult, the understanding that my parents consider the word beautiful to be synonymous with the names of their daughters is something that brings me to tears. As an adult, knowing that the word beautiful acted as a noun my entire life is life-changing, but it doesn't change the fact that in my formative years, I needed it to be an adjective. Life has been a lot better lately. I think getting back into the routine of school and work has helped tremendously, and getting into a regular exercise routine has made me happier. I'm eating more, maybe not enough, but I'm eating more. I haven't lost weight in a few weeks (which I have such conflicting opinions of). I'm getting a physical done tomorrow, and I already signed the release of information so my counselor is able to speak with the physician about my care and treatment. I feel as if I'm already a thousand steps ahead of where I was the last time we spoke, and it's only been a few weeks. The problem is, I keep expecting shit to hit the fan. The anxiety of the anticipation of impending doom is destroying me. I mentioned to a friend of mine that I attend counseling for anxiety and depression (I didn't mention my eating disorder) and she said she never would have guessed that I struggle with my mental health. "You seem so put together" is what she said. And I guess I am. From the outside, I'm a model student that has figured out how to balance work, school, and her social life. From the inside though, everything is overwhelming and all that convinces me to keep at school is the desire to be a teacher. All that drives me to keep going at work is the knowledge that my students love me. The only thing that keeps me going for my social life is knowing that my friends would worry so much if I were to just disappear. I feel like I'm likely sicker than I think I am, because I struggle to think of myself as sick at all. But thank you, thank you for accepting me as I am and where I'm at. Thank you for not letting me settle with where I'm at and pushing me to get the next level of treatment. I don't know if I'll make it as far as you want me to, but you have played an instrumental role in getting me to take these steps. Thank you.
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