Overall, life is going great.
I can throw on the fake smile and explain to you how crazy it feels to have a career starting.
A career as a Biochemist.
Honestly, How fucking cool is that?
I can sit here and tell you about this guy. Not just the first date we went on, but two, within three days. How he makes me laugh, his gorgeous eyes and teeth.
I’ll go ahead and tell you how I love my apartment.
I’d even go so far as to take a picture of my fridge and all of the fresh produce in it and post it on social media, with the caption, “Not gonna lie, my fridge makes me happy.”
I can also sit here and tell you I ate under 800 calories today.
That the thought of buying laxatives and diet pills flooded my brain, more than once.
Feeling constantly torn and pulled in two completely opposite directions.
Thinking about higher calorie foods I need to get, so I can get the calories in.
Then making a bet with myself I can go the rest of the week without eating.
It has gotten to the point where I just don’t want to talk about it.
It annoys me,
it annoys K,
it annoys T.
I am waiting for them to say the “Just fucking eat.” Cure all remedy.
Not to be mean, but just because they are out of things to say.
This is how I imagine a two year old would have a fit.
In this case, it is a recipe, of pure denial, mixed with shame, sprinkled with a dash of apathy.
But hey, I can act like a two year old, ignore it, get upset when it gets brought up.
Then, act like a twenty two year old and completely immerse myself into my work to avoid anything else.