Wurk

* This post discusses an eating disorder.
In NO way am I glamouring or proposing that this is ongoing or encouraged. 

The most problematic part about owning a blog I feel I must keep a stiff upper lip when it comes to difficult times or be super dramatic. If anything a week is never one way, mostly it's up and down. Sometimes you'll have moments of triumph, a Boss agreeing to a raise and you'll have moments of defeat, showing up to work with your yoga pants inside out. Oh yeah, that happened.

I suppose moment by moment you're reminded about how flawed, how helplessly human you are.
flawed, ditzy, determined and scared you'll fuck everything up. Being a woman who is now placed in a position of job authority I have to assert my own dominance in a different way, I can't be soft all the time but my approach with teaching is. I want  to have more patience but I think yesterday I sort of backed out of leading in my own head.

I didn't have the patience for doing much in the last two days and if anything feeling COLD didn't help my emotional stability.

Tuesday; I felt welts of tears coming to my eyes because my anxiety kicked in. Suddenly I didn't was very aware I'd be on camera and taken video of and I didn't want to see myself on film or be the fattest cheerleader on the squad.

Mind you, this has never kept me from performing a stunt. This has never prevented me from doing a parade or catching a cradle.

but I see it.
I feel it and it keeps me from eating breakfast in the morning, it keeps me from allowing myself to feel full and feeds the ID. Her, Ana, and old habits die hard.
Feeling hungry at one point felt better than feeling fat.

When I was in middle school I dropped almost four pant sizes down to an 8 and people kept complimenting me on my figure and that became addictive. People were nice to you if you weren't fat. What they didn't know at the time, my parents were divorcing and my mother would neglect to feed us.

So the ugly truth is in that with emotional instability and control resurfaces old habits that should of died within paintings and drawings. Yet with little to no outlet during the weekdays I try to let it go in blogs and daily planning.

I get why Kesha is dying without creating, if I was not allowed to create content I would too.
So that the clinking skeletons in my closet can be fleshed out and in it I can replace it with colorful clothing and remember where I came from.