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    PJH2028   17,690
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I don't know where I'm Going. I don't know where I am.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Chicago. March 2013. 155lbs. Down from 245 in 2010. Down from lifetime highest of 299 at age 17. Yoyo's and a lifetime of eating disorders, recovery, therapy, self investigation.... READING EVERYONE.... woodman and roth being the best of all..... AND ON THE WAY.... SO MUCH OF LIFE (the lives OTHER people, the THIN people must lead, or so I thought...) So much of life didn't happen -- I didn't occupy it -- I didn't inhabit.

Inhabiting the space of the body. And the body on earth. The body in space.
That's what being fat DIDN"T teach me. Ironically. Despite taking up more space...
The fat body is/was a BUFFER... .My soul felt small in there... I don't think I recognize(d) my self properly.... and I know I did not EXPRESS my self clearly. Diffused. Translated. Scrambled.

I mumble. Still.

This is a trajectory I should keep on writing about. A story ... my story... one of my stories...
DOES ANYONE WANT TO READ IT?

intellect as adversary
camelot and canaries in the coal mine

The fat body. The hideout. The isolation of addiction.
The isolation of ridicule in childhood (Biggest Loser this year spotlighting a couple of youngsters was a reminder of a kind).

Not being picked. Taking oneself OUT of the mix out of the game out of the flow.
Aspirations? Shelved.

I can DO NOTHING AT ALL... for long periods of time. But 'boredom' and MUTENESS has a cost.

Without a weight loss battle cry... Doing Nothing is transparently Lazy and Remiss.
I got sent away to lose weight (by my parents) multiple times. And besides eating less and exercising... I just somehow filled the time. This taught me some bad habits. This taught me some kind of skills ...(that the collective culture does not value and in fact disparages?)... maybe.

More?
Shall I write more?

Sure.... Start pasting PHOTOS and riffing on photos. TO BE CONTINUED
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  Member Comments About This Blog Post:

SWEETNEENI 3/20/2013 8:56PM

    emoticon

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NONIE_C 3/13/2013 10:37PM

    Fat as buffer. Isolation. A small soul squished at the center --- hidden, afraid, bruised and battered.

I know.

Write it, yell it, dance it all out.
We are your mirrors, your friends, your confidants.
We are writing, yelling, and dancing too.
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CHOCOHIPPO 3/13/2013 11:16AM

    So much pain, so eloquently put!

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SLFRISBEY 3/13/2013 10:40AM

    these things are therapeutic. Keep writing :) It helps me immensely even if no one reads but I will be reading, as usual.

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