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We looked inside some of the posts by tokuiwaza-blog and here's what we found interesting.
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Notes Per Post
96K
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44K
Reblog Per Post
51K
Reply Per Post
26
Time Between Posts
13 days
Number of Posts By Type
Text
16
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1
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my brain: you are making up this problem for attention
me: i literally haven’t told a single person about this problem? i am the only one that knows about this problem
my brain: yeah whatever
my brain: you are making up this problem for attention
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Wishing I could curl up with a hot bowl of soup and watch the snowstorm, but I have to work at both jobs today and I wouldn't eat soup anyway.
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Got invited to this year's Wildcat judo tournament and it took me about three seconds to smash the "going" button, but now I'm wondering how I can possibly fight women so much bigger than me.
But how impressive would it be if I could win?
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Too true
me on meds: okay i can function, but i’m pretty sure i dont need these anymore they’re probably making life harder for me at this point
me off meds: holy fuck this was a bad mistake. abort. abort. abort. shit. fuck. damn.
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Past tense
I'm out of treatment.
I got to a point where I just couldn't survive another day, so I called a place named River Oaks and scheduled my admission. Scraped through those last few days at home, shoved myself onto a plane, and flew to another world. It was glorious. It was terrible. I'm still kind of surviving from day to day, but I have hope that soon it will get better. I can think clearly now. This body has enough fat to function. I don't think I'll go back to the restaurant where I worked; I'll probably look for a new job. I can't wait to get back to judo, but I've lost so much strength, and I worry what Sensei will say about my size.
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This week I almost broke my friend's bed by dropping onto it full-force. I am massive enough to crack a bed. Or perhaps, I am not massive enough to crack a bed but (since F=ma), I move quickly enough over enough distance to crack a bed. Either way, I am too much. My body is too huge or my personality is too noisesome. I'm so ashamed to simply exist.
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Self-sabotage
Let's talk about it.
I finally get under 100 lbs. I like the way my body looks and feels. I'm so in love with the hard curve of my hipbones, I can't wait to wake up in the morning so I can cup them in my hands, cozy under the covers in my wisp of a body, so clearly defined, so barely there.
So what do I do? Spend three days eating. I was up to 101 this afternoon. My goal was 98 by Tuesday and now I don't think I can do it. I'm going to have to get back on track, but I just feel so hopeless. It was easy to restrict when I had an end date, a plan to go into treatment eventually. Now that my insurance won't cover it and help isn't an option, I'm just lost. I'm weak. I think about living this way forever and it just doesn't seem possible.
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i am glorifying my own survival. keeping a journal of the miracles of small victories, praising myself for waking up, for brushing my teeth, for eating breakfast, for showering. i make up romantic notions about myself instead of picking at the loose seams. i write love poems to the person i know i can be.
some days i am painting gold on rot. some days i know i smell of death under the sugar perfume. some days i flicker between a drowning and a circus. but some days, some days. i catch myself in the mirror and i think: i’m so glad we lived to grow up.
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When I want to eat, when I'm so hungry I feel like I'm going to puke, I think about how triumphant it will be to see a new number on the scale. I think about how slim my thighs will be in just a few more pounds, how graceful my hands will look resting loosely beside my collarbone in some black and white photo, how the waist of my jeans will gap just a little and I will slide into them loose and comfortable like water. The way platform shoes will make my legs look like sticks. The way my eyes become enormous black holes when I get thin, impossibly dark against luminescent white skin.
I don't think about the way my heart sometimes skips beats and then slams alarmingly for a moment. I don't think about how ropy and gross my forearms have become. I don't think about the way my waist and hips will never have the graceful curve I want no matter how much weight I lose, because I'm just not shaped that way.
I don't think about stuffing my face with garlic bread and chocolate pudding. I just pour another glass of iced tea and hang on.
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