Today, my BDD was out in full force.
Sitting on the bus, a voice in my head repeated: “Fattie. Fattie. What happened? You were so good last week. One piece of toast a day! You can do it again! Maybe half! Do you want to stay like this? Fattie? Look at yourself. Fattie.”
It was all I could do to not scream “SHUT UP!” at the voice in my head.
I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a shiny surface.
There is a reason why I don’t own a mirror big enough to see my body.
It took some mental wrangling to get myself to eat when I got home. Hell, I’m still hungry. But I’m also trying to shut that voice up again so I can eat in peace.
I mean, I was too sick to eat last week and the voice HEAPS PRAISE on that
It’s not easy. It’s not simple.
But it’s everyday.
… I better eat so I won’t get sick again.
I’ve had it up to here with “All Lives Matter.”
The shootings recently have me completely jaded. Not because they don’t matter—they do.
But because they’re everywhere. All the time. Most recently, the domestic terror incident at the Planned Parenthood in Colorado. The shooter was taken alive. Three dead.
And the first thing that I could think of at the resolution of the situation was: the suspect cannot have been anything but a white man.
Because, in situations like this, that is the only way the suspect ever gets out of these alive.
Let me back things up a a bit.