So I said I would update you on my trip to San Antonio River Walk but I was debating on whether I should post it or not. iI can close to deleting it to be honest, but my friend, Vonz, encouraged me to.
Here's that day,
I woke up at 7.30 am and I had fruits for breakfast. Then, I did some reading, caught up with some news on the TV, and also wrote on my blog. My family and I got ready and we headed out around 10 o'clock. Have you spot what is different here? I didn't work out or go to the gym that day. Although riverwalk is a huge, long river and we were literally walking around it which will take hours, I still felt guilty for not working out. The 2 hours road trip was basically me having a battle with my mind, saying, it's okay, it's okay. everything is fine. I was like a child calming another child. Now that I look back, it was silly of me to be anxious about it for the whole trip whiles my sisters were having fun, taking pictures and singing in the car.
When we got there, we went to a family friend's house first and had lunch with them. We went to a buffet. It was my food heaven. I can easily find vegan food which was great but after the meal, the battle in my head started again, this time it was over the number of calories. I was counting, and recounting and counting again. When we were walking by the river, I took pictures, laughing and smiling for the camera but once my mind was left alone and had some quite, it turned into a calculator again.
Suddenly, I clicked and realized that I am not recovered. I am physically recovered but mentally, I am a walking anxious calculator. I find myself feeling happy when I ate less calories or when I am spending more time in the gym. I felt in control when I skipped meals. I felt guilty when I have another spoon of oatmeal. I literally was measuring everything to the peas. So I stopped counting for the rest of the day and started looking around. People everywhere were eating, laughing, singing, playing music and having the best times of their life.
That is life's goal. To be free, not just physically but mentally. To be able to live everyday, not worrying about tomorrow; to be able to go by each night not planning tomorrow's meal or tomorrow's workout.
I am in no state to advise anyone but I can tell you from my experience that worrying and having anxiety is not how you would want to remember yourself when you have flash backs in your 30s, 40s, or 50s. Now when I look back to my high school years, I wished I had spend more time with friends, with family, with people that love me and people I love rather than spending time at home, in my room, counting calories, worrying, exercising, and being miserable. I have lost so much friends but most importantly, I lost me. I lost the girl inside of me and turned into a sad dead person. If you didn't know me and about my disorder, I would look like an extra in The Walking Dead. I was alone and my disorder loved that.
I used to think when I get to xx kg, I will stop dieting. When I reach xx inches around my waist I will treat myself with a cookie. When I get to that stage, I believed that I will be happy, that I will be confident, that I will be able to show off my body and hear everyone say "oh gosh how did you did it? it's' so inspiring." But when I got to that weight and had that number around my waist, I was not happy. I was not confident. People around me did start noticing and congratulated me on my weight lost but I did not feel proud. I felt that I was not doing enough, that I can be skinnier and smaller. The longer these feeling lived inside of me, the more obsess I was with numbers. It got to the point where I did not want to be skinny or small anymore. I simply wanted to disappear.
The thought scared me. I walked down the river and watch everyone around me. They are all human. We are all human. We do not have to be this or to be that . We are not born with labels on us stating how we should be in life. The only thing we have is our body and I have taken mine for granted.
When I took this picture. I remember how low my self-esteem was. I looked at the picture, edited it, looked at it again, re-edited to a point where I was happy with the lighting and the color contrast. However, my mind was telling me that I looked ugly, that I was fat, and that this picture was rubbish because my face was too chubby. When my sister said I looked skinny in this picture. I remember feeling happy about it afterwards. But now, I feel ashamed because I don't want to be the skinny girl anymore. I want to be remembered as the girl that is bubbly, the girl that smiles, the girl that laughs with her friends, the girl that have so much positive vibe in her. The girl who is confident in her own skin.
When your demon in your head tells you that you are not worth it,show him that you are worth every inch of perfect imperfection of your body.
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