Freak Show

04-27-04 - 10:19 a.m.

(read this one through to the end- it gets better)

Thoughts continue to enter my mind.

Memories of things from the past.

Not real life past.

You'll notice I continue to distinguish my 'real' life from the 'life' lived online.

It's not that I live two lives, but I feel lately that I have wasted a lot of time online, and it bothers me.

I feel as if I have used this 'online' life as an escape of sorts from my 'real' life.

Be that true or not, until I think of some other explanation, that is what I'll do.

But I digress.

Thoughts...

Memories...

there I am.

The tf.

the photo parlour.

not only that, but each of the parts of the forum.

You know, on one hand, I would think that I was drawn to the writings, pictures, and diaries of some who were deep in their disorders- who were underweight, emaciated.

I wanted to read of their "success".

I wanted to read of their experiences.

I would think and say that they were capable of what I could not do.

But why couldn't I do it?

Was it that I was weak?

Or was it that I still held onto a string (or perhaps more than a string, unbeknownst to me) of respect for myself that kept me from total destruction.

Lest I lose myself in another discussion, I'll return.

I wanted to read about them. I wanted to see them.

Why?

I often thought that my diary must be uninteresting because it lacked the total disorderedness of the others' that I read. But people came and they read, and that kept me coming and writing.

I thought them to be ethereal... I thought them to be wonderfully elusive... wonderfully thin... despite their wonderful misery.

Why are we gravitated to read about the unnatural, the abnormal?

It's a freak show.

That seems like the clear answer, and it's fairly obvious, you'd think.

But why did/do I (at times) long to join them? Why do I want to be one of the freaks?

That's a question I have yet to answer.

I can guess that it has to do with being unreachable, untouchable, and admired... but did I really admire them? Or was it just a feak show... And do I really want to be unreachable, untouchable? Or do I want to be approachable, lovable, and loving.

"there's the rub"

and don't you just get sick of reading about scales and lbs and mirrors and bones and vomit?

sure, we romanticize it.

We speak of golden cages.

It is a prison- the scale is like a ball and chain.

The mirror holds us captive.

But the cage isn't golden.

It's not even that unique really, is it?

So few have not stepped inside of it, even for a short time.

Who these days can say they haven't tried putting the end of a toothbrush or a pen or a popsickle stick, or their own finger down their throat, in hopes of some penance for the crime they committed when they sat down to a meal?

Who can say they haven't spent atleast one day in an attempt to keep their body clean and pure- void of any vile morsel of that which would cling relentlessly to their body in the form of fat?

The cage isn't golden.

It's old

and worn

and covered in rotting, smelling things.

There is only feigned glamour, a false allurement that will trap you in a place that you didn't want to be.

And once you're within the cage, you'll try to romanticize it still.

You'll tell yourself that you are a suffering victim, but that your cage is of gold, and that you will one day emerge from it, more beautiful than ever.

And then, through your pride, you will tell yourself that those who try to free you from your prison are really envious of your plight... that you are chosen and strong and superior... and that they are jealous... that they wish to pull you down to their level.

Let's be honest.

After so much dishonesty- with others, and with ourselves.

Can we pull ourselves out of the rotting depths of the ugly thing that we have been clinging to?

Can you find the truth?

Can you except it?

what went before - what came after

Last 5 entries:

Pregnant! - 01-23-06
*happy unintentional weightloss* - 02-08-05
anyone still there? - 08-17-04
- - 05-11-04
and as for lunch... - 05-03-04