So…I haven’t made a video or written something (non-fiction, anyways) in a while. Almost a month, actually.
There is a reason. But you knew that, didn’t you? There is always a reason.
I know what you are thinking…What the heck, Rebecca? Why are you so squirrely? You jump from blogging to vlogging to podcasting to fiction.
Yeah, yeah, I know. I have issues focusing.
Right now, fiction is easier for me to distract myself with. I need distractions because I’m flippin’ falling apart up in here.
Part of the reason I’ve only been doing fiction is because of some specific people from junior high that are now reading basically everything I post. At first, I was freaked out about this. And then my husband told me to chill. But I have zero chill. So I freaked out more.
I got stage fright. Junior high is awkward, right? Yeah? Everyone probably remembers me as a little uncoordinated girl with skinned knees (or worse – sweat pants) and unbrushed hair who randomly almost ate glue in class that one time. And now people who I used to not get along with have become good friends because of this blog and it’s weird. So weird.
Have I mentioned it is weird?
So now I’ve got stage fright, in more ways than one. This post is me trying to overcome that.
On top of having a bunch of eyes that I never thought would see some of my personal writing on here, I jumped back into my old dancing “career” (ie: I will fall on my butt on stage with fancy shoes with taps glued onto them even though I’ve been doing this for YEARS).
You know what that means, right?
Anorexia is back. Or a version of it, at least.
I have a performance in a little over a week. I’ve known for a few weeks now, and as a consequence, the last few weeks have been hell.
My brain is screaming at me 24/7.
It’s amazeballs! <- Sarcasm
I am having nightmares of gaining a few pounds in the days before the performance and wake up feeling like I’ve been shot. I’ve been working out and training (overtraining, truthfully). I lost some weight without restricting calories at all. I’ve been pushing physical activity (weights, walking, workouts, dancing, etc, etc, etc.) every day until my body literally won’t move or I just don’t have any energy left.
My stress level is through the roof and I hate it.
On top of worrying about my weight, I also have become acutely aware that I hate my eyebrows, eye color, acne prone skin, height, belly, teeth, hair, lack of ability to use makeup at 20 years old, etc.
I was so upset about all of this that I spent a chunk of what little free time I had trying to fix my own eyebrows (which was an epic failure and my awesome beautician is saving my butt and fixing it), trying face masks to fix my skin, whitening my teeth, wondering if it would be worth it to purchase colored contacts and watching hair and makeup tutorials on YouTube until I felt like bawling from being overwhelmed.
Oh, and to top it off, hubby and I have been cleaning our closet. Which means trying on clothing that may or may not make me painstakingly aware of the fact that my boobs are saggy from breastfeeding and I have some gnarly white stretch marks and a slightly abnormal muscle separation that causes my belly to poke out a bit (yay childbirth). Hubby declared that we have too many clothes, making this clean out necessary.
Most of my old clothes don’t fit in one way or another. It’s not that I’ve really changed size, it just that weight got redistributed differently. So hubby said, “We should go shopping.”
Perhaps I am a rare breed of woman, but I don’t like “shopping”. I like looking at pretty things, sparkly dresses and scarves and then leaving. No trying things on or buying stuff. I can just enjoy cool clothing without having to know and be disappointed that my body shape seems to be abnormal and nothing fits right.
Last week while we were window shopping, I did ask him if I could get jean shorts because I haven’t had a pair of non-maternity shorts that didn’t scream “Imma homeschooler!” in well…ever. By some miracle, we found a pair in my size. One pair.
Daisy dukes, y’all. They fit, and they are all mine. I felt a little scandalous leaving the house in them, even with hubby’s encouragement. Guess a measly pair of shorts is enough to bring back some serious anxiety from modesty indoctrination, but the world kept spinning and no one could see my butt so I suppose you could say we all survived. 😉
Hubby says we will probably cycle out all of my “potato sack” clothes (for hiding weight loss from anorexia) from the homeschool “girl next door” era as he calls it, into actual adult clothing that shows off curves. Which, you know, sounds terrifying and exciting at the same time. Haha!
Today we went back and I tried on some shirts and a dress. The shirts were a disaster. They were made for people with big boobs, which I don’t have, so that was depressing. But the dress fits and the skirt spins when I twirl. 😀
In other news, my toddler has begun mimicking everything I do. Dancing, trying to weight lift with blocks, playing piano, wearing my shoes, pretending to put my lipstick and clothes on…it was really cute.
Until he started stepping on the scale every time he came with me to the bathroom. The waterworks started, let me tell you. He smiled at me, pointing to the numbers on the scale and clapping. That was more than a little sobering. One, because he’s not a baby anymore and two, I’ve gotta get my sh!t together so this doesn’t impact him.
I thought that since I was keeping up my milk supply and making sure we were both eating enough that somehow he’d be shielded, but I was wrong.
I’m keeping in communication with hubby and we are trying stress reduction techniques (since my body image issues stem from feeling out of control) and that is helping a lot. Lots of reading, writing, music, walks and chatting with friends.
Anyways, that’s what’s new here. What’s new with you?
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