Sorry, One More ED Post.

Sorry, one more ED post.

TW - ED, self harm - last one for a while, promise.

I can’t attribute all my body image stuff to him; most of that was there prior.

Culprit?  Dance played a big role - serious ballet students rarely walk out unscathed from body image issues. You are consistently made aware of all the things wrong with your body and comparisons to your colleagues are inevitable.

Bodysuits and tights don’t exactly hide one’s figure, and dressing rooms are.. well... there’s lots of naked people (probably some sexuality repression seeds planted here, another post, another blog).  

It’s a very strange combination: being hyper-comfortable being exposed and on display while being hyper-aware of every flaw. It certainly tainted my idea of beauty - I still love and long for that emaciated look in spite of myself.  You know, where you can see the sternum - long, lanky and flat everywhere.

Enter in the part 2 of my self harm:  Running.  It was the perfect addition and worked in tandem with the extremely restricted calorie intake.  He loved it because it helped me slim down.  I thoroughly enjoyed it as well, but not just because it gave me the body type I’ve been brainwashed to like.  

At the time, we lived out in the county and I ran at night.  There were few lights, few houses, and a few wild animal sightings.

Those runs were magical. There were sunsets, and stars like I’d never seen. At twilight I’d run past fields covered in fireflies performing a light show just for me.  Some nights I could hear coyotes howling off in the distance. 

If he was on me about something that night, I could escape.  I could clear my head and focus purely on my senses - my shoes hitting the ground, my controlled breathing, the moonlight, the smell of grass and dirt, the sound of the creek underneath the bridge.  His voice in my head was drowned out by all of the things around me. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest  and it reminded me that I was still alive.  I felt free.  

I still don’t know how I managed these runs having consumed so little. I would run 8, 10, 12 km having eaten a bowl of soup and 5 crackers that day and an apple with peanut butter and a protein bar the day before.  Some days I wouldn’t eat at all and still run a 25 minute 5k.  I ran with the flu, gastroenteritis, and injuries.  

I often think about the harm I did to my body during this time. I knew it too, but nothing stopped me.  It was alI I could do for a reprieve from him.

I use objects sometimes. Toys, enhancers, paraphernalia.

I use just my hands other times.  Or a blanket, or a pillow.

I take my time. I explore. I learn.

I smile when I’m getting close.

I laugh through my orgasms.

I feel no guilt.

I feel sexy. I feel power. I feel whole.

Never again will this body be bound to you.

From December to Now.  This is what progress looks like.

I masturbate now.

Since you found out the depths of my depravity, I found myself feeling sick when the fire within me flickered.

Not anymore. I will nourish the flame without guilt.

Hah.

when you can sense a Mood incoming and feel like a farmer standing in a field looking out at the horizon as the storm approaches like “looks like it’s gonna be a bad one, boys”

And then I remember something like how he would force me to share a towel with him after a shower if he was angry...

"to save money"

A Snapshot

He was furious that there are few pictures of us over the years.

I tried to explain to him that I really hate looking at myself - that it wasn’t about him, it was self-loathing.  

This wasn’t a lie.  There’s probably a good 10 year period where I can count on one hand how many pictures of myself I took. Thankfully I have a friend who photo-documents quite literally everything we’ve ever done, otherwise there would be no evidence of my existence those years.

He stated that I was “making excuses” and that this was further evidence that I didn’t love him and was never invested in our relationship.

He’s still on about it.  I have a text from him in March lamenting it.

No joy.

I'm A Song of Ice and Fire fan and he and I watched GOT together. I thought it was because he wanted to keep something exclusively for us; untainted by others and something we could bond over. In retrospect, he probabaly just wanted to be able to ask questions so he'd know what was happening.

I was so excited he actually cared about something I liked that I used to sort of gush and share theories I'd heard or thought of. This was short lived. He responded that he didn't think about the show after turning it off. He also told me that I was wasting my limited brain power on something stupid and should be focusing on important things. Like making more money.

On it's own, this isn't horrible, but it does speak to his lack of interest or respect for the things that made me happy. It also made me feel sad and ashamed.

He never let me me enjoy anything. I still get embarrassed when I get too excited about something.