Panic

I wish I could start this blog with more insight than I am going to. However, the past few days are not lending themselves to an insightful statement, nor an uplifting vantage.

Do you ever feel that your are being ripped out of your body? How about that moment when you see everything falling apart and you cannot find tape, glue, nails or even safety pins? Well, I suppose it is anticlimactic mentioning that is my emotional state right now. 

I'm obsessive. I'm mentally compulsive. Both are directed towards my grades. I am a good student. My teachers like me, I work hard and I like to think I incite good class discussions. So when I do my best and receive mediocre results, I am frustrated. When it happens with regularity, I am overwhelmed. So far, that is what this semester looks like. I am working my hardest and receiving negligible results. I spend days editing, and my professors say I need to work on editing. I am in my second day of a panic attack over this. I give up.

Likewise, my weight rose like Ol' Faithful since this summer. This time last year I was at a pleasant 48.6kg. Last weigh-in I topped at 54.4kg. Not lovely. 

So, on top of anxiety, I have my ana/mia rekindling. I was happy with my body only months ago. Why did I relax? 

These issues are now bubbling into my personal life. My darling beau (the reasons why I became so lax [it is difficult not eating when so happy, in love, and enjoying delightful meals together (did I mention he is a chef?!)]) wonders why I am so unhappy. Truthfully, I am unhappy--with myself. I wish I did not take my anxiety out on him. He deserves a happy, healthy dame. Sometimes, I hear myself speaking and I just want to tell myself to quit with the rubbish and be cheery. But I cannot. 

I am exhausted. I think I'll go write some bollocks about men chasing whales.

Cheers,

The Technicolor Whale

 

CW: 52.1KG

GW: 47.6KG