Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Why am I so Weird?

I think I am rather fond of suffering. I'm not sure why I feel this way, but this is not a new development. When I was little, I loved to read about WWII and famine and rationing and suffering. I wanted to live through a terrible war that caused me to suffer, but I would survive. I spent a whole summer digging holes in my back yard, because I felt like I had to struggle and work. I would write out hour by hour schedules of what I had to be doing,  I would create workout circuits in my house so i could exercise without anyone knowing what I was up to. I would eat packets of dry oatmeal, because I thought it would take up less room and take a lot longer to eat.

 In fifth grade, I convinced the other girls to diet with me. We wouldn't finish our chocolate milk at school, and we challenged each other on who could eat less of the school lunch. I remember that twice a year they would weigh and measure us at school unexpectedly. Once, in either 4th or 5th grade I remember they told us a few days before they were going to weigh us. The night before the weigh in, I played so hard on the jungle gym in my backyard so I could burn off all my weight. I remember them telling me my height and weight, and I couldn't figure out of it was good or bad, but I figured it could never be too low, so I tried dieting. 

In 3rd grade I remember my cousin telling me if you stood with your feet shoulder width apart, you should be able to fit a quarter between your thighs. Otherwise you were fat. We decided to diet and ride bikes together to lose weight. 
In 6th grade, there was a girl who seemed absolutely perfect. She was a good church girl, but so friendly, and everyone liked her. She had the most beautiful long hair and a bright shining smile. Someone told me that she would wake up in the middle of the night feeling like she needed to do sit-ups and other exercise or she couldn't go back to sleep. I always wanted to ask her why she did it, but I've never asked.

Even to this day, I feel like I need to suffer and never have enough. I want to live day to day not knowing if I'm going to be able to eat. Constantly pushing my body to it's limit. I want to feel weak and empty.  I want to be the ragged , scratched up, skinny survivor with her head held high, and pride intact. This is what excites me, and I couldn't ever explain why.


  1. Wow, you totally just described me. I feel the same way. It's crazy how our minds make us think this way. But we've always got to have our pride. Keep your head up.

  2. I often wonder how I'm supposed to prove that I'm special, different, if I never have to face real adversity. Never thought of creating my own adversity.

    Your post was haunting. And you're not weird. You're just more honest than most about your wants, needs and emotions.