DEAR EDDIE/DEAR FRED

I couldn't work out today like I should of.  That sounds so cliché and a weak effort at making excuses.  I'm so torn apart on the inside.   I'm currently wearing eleven Salonpas patches all over my body because of the pain.   I'm unable to breathe very well because I'm so busted up on the inside.   I can barely walk and nearly fell more than once when trying to at least do yoga this morning.  I know some people say stuff like that to be dramatic or to be funny, but  I literally am torn up, and it's confirmed by doctors and physical therapists.  But my brain,  ohh my rotten brain tells me I'm weak, worthless, and a complete failure, and that I always will be a stupid fat cunt of a cow and a piece of shit.   It tells me that if I managed to do the yoga,  then I can get my fat ass up and do the rest.  My karate teacher years ago would call me up if I ever tried to take even just one day off from the seven days ...

I hurt, I hurt, I hurt.  And I'm so fucking tired, just weary beyond belief.  But still that horrible voice in my head keeps telling me that I'm not really exhausted, that I'm just saying that to get out of doing anything, that I'm lying about how I am feeling today. That anyone as lazy as I am can't possibly be that tired.  That I'm just faking it for sympathy, and I need to get my fat ass moving, 'cause everyone else is working hard so why can't you too? Because I'm a big fat stupid cow that can't be counted on for a single damn thing.  Why can't I just try harder??  I can't even tell when I do. Eddie is trying to keep me from recovering.

It's not that I don't want to be at a "healthy weight", I want, need, and desire for that weight to be as small as possible.  That's one of the many issues that happens when you grow up being bullied and socially trained into believing that the body you were born with is completely horrible.  My intellect says that's fucked up, but the ED keeps patting me on the back and saying "Good job!".  It's the only thing that praises me.  I would like to change that. 

Why?! I have a bad shoulder from a crash, burn, and dislocation on my regular bicycle about 8 years ago. I've gone from intense pain, rehab, and dealing with a frozen shoulder for about 6 of those 8 years.  So when it's acting up very, very, VERY badly, what do I do?  Did I rest it this morning by abstaining from physical exercise?  Did I treat it gently? No.  Instead, I punish myself for having a bad shoulder by working out for 2 1/2 hours, telling myself that if I avoided doing my regular current workout and don't push myself, and if I took lots of over-the-counter pain remedies, I would be okay...  Well, I did push myself.  True, I didn't push quite as hard (hollow laughter), but I didn't rest myself or pace myself, at all.  Cursing at myself and calling myself every rotten name I could think up for being so weak and worthless.  Refusing to even stop long enough to go to the bathroom when it felt like I was going to burst. What I did was litera...

I'm on the waiting list for the Emily Program. 

 My brain is in a box that gets smaller and smaller with each passing day.  I feel trapped, no one cares to even be around me.  I've invited people to do stuff with me and visit for many, many years. Acceptance of an invitation is so rare,  I don't remember last time it happened. Everyone seems to think I live at the very end of the earth,  my house is centrally located between most of the people I know, yet they act as though it's just so inconvenient.  So I must be this gigantic monstrosity of a human or just an unlovable lump of nothing. No one freaky cares about my accomplishments, I have stopped posting anything on line about the amazing stuff I think I can do,  the only time I'm seen is if I talk about EDs - and I'm bloody tired of the subject (and so are they), I live everyday with it just like the bullying that occurred everyday while growing up.  Other people are worthy of notice when they post the same, why not me?   What is it...