Showing posts with label unhealthy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label unhealthy. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Deviant
One thing I learned about myself is that I never know where that figurative inappropriate sexual line is until I've clearly crossed it, or at least until the person I tried to cross it with told me. Now that I've found my perfect deviant partner, will we know if we've crossed that line? Does the line move simply because of what's acceptable and arousing to both of us? When does healthy cross over into unhealthy? Last night was tons of fun, we both enjoyed ourselves thoroughly while flirting with the taboo. Nothing crazy. Nothing I would categorize as crazy, though you may. I love that I found someone to which I can tell my inner most sexual secrets. Someone who is just as sick as I am.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Thick
"You look a little thick, that's something a cocaine diet can fix."
Sick thoughts never leave. They may not come as often now, but they'd always be there. Today they arrived in full force, actually sounding like a good idea. The most rational thought I've had all day. Too bad that's not allowed. I'm annoyed. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't use and at that moment I wish I hadn't; I wish I could still do a coke binge and drop a couple of pounds. I can justify it as not using, it's strictly a diet aid. I promised I wouldn't. I feel so ungrateful for this body. When did I begin this sick game with myself? When did I stop loving what I look like and begin the weight obsession Nothing fits "fat" correctly, which is the price to be paid for such shameful and unhealthy behavior. I'm down a lot, down more than I have ever been down, doing it the right way.
Doing it right with hard work and doing it wrong the easy way have the same results. I'm just enabling my laziness "Big and Beautiful" is everyone but me as far as the self confidence, the love of one's self. Oh how I'd be happy if I could love who I've become and be proud of the fat that I shed. Weight is a number, a size, a lifestyle. A being that is ok for you but not me. Why is every mirror in my house a fun-house mirror? Why can't I see what you see?
Sick thoughts never leave. They may not come as often now, but they'd always be there. Today they arrived in full force, actually sounding like a good idea. The most rational thought I've had all day. Too bad that's not allowed. I'm annoyed. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't use and at that moment I wish I hadn't; I wish I could still do a coke binge and drop a couple of pounds. I can justify it as not using, it's strictly a diet aid. I promised I wouldn't. I feel so ungrateful for this body. When did I begin this sick game with myself? When did I stop loving what I look like and begin the weight obsession Nothing fits "fat" correctly, which is the price to be paid for such shameful and unhealthy behavior. I'm down a lot, down more than I have ever been down, doing it the right way.
Doing it right with hard work and doing it wrong the easy way have the same results. I'm just enabling my laziness "Big and Beautiful" is everyone but me as far as the self confidence, the love of one's self. Oh how I'd be happy if I could love who I've become and be proud of the fat that I shed. Weight is a number, a size, a lifestyle. A being that is ok for you but not me. Why is every mirror in my house a fun-house mirror? Why can't I see what you see?
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