I am 32 and I am scared of food. Not just one food. Not just one food group even. I am fearful of all food because all food is made up of calories and calories going in means increase in mass. (I know).
I am 32 and I am going to bed hungry.
I am 32 and when I was 16 I couldn’t wait to be 18 so I could move out and be alone with all my thoughts and not have to answer to anyone. I thought I would lose so much weight and be so much happier. I thought by the time I was 30 I wouldn’t care anymore and I would just be happy existing in whatever body I existed in.
I now exceed the age at which I thought I would have my shit together and in fact, I think I have less shit together than ever before.
I am 32 and I practically have a nervous breakdown when I’m asked what I’ve eaten so far today. Or worse, when I’m asked to actually eat the food I brought… that I chose to bring for the purpose of eating right then. Seriously what the fuck is wrong with me. It’s just food. There is no getting around that one needs food to survive. How is it possible that I continue to believe, somehow, I can skirt the system? I mean I know it’s not possible, but somehow it becomes possible. You’re just not trying hard enough (to lose weight) Rings again and again and then suddenly I have to prove that I am trying hard enough and my priorities become twisted.
16 year-old me would be frightened to know that this has gone on this long and that, at 32, I often feel like the biggest fucking failure.