joannawillshrink

[joannawillshrink]

shower thoughts

only this is a thought coming up while watching a Dr Who special called the end of the world part two. 

Which I think is a humorous title. End of the world, PART TWO. anyway

The Master character is the baddie and he has a drumming in his head, constantly, driving him crazy. The Doctor says he could help. And the Master replies in a misty voice, “I dont know what I’d be, without that noise.”

Made me immediately think about myself and current life, without my Mom. Like when people lose someone close to them, common advice or like, motivational talk is “go make them proud” and whatnot. And I’m thinking, I wonder if she can see me and see what I’ve become. So bored and depressed and stagnant, different. Because I really do feel very very different. I’m changed. And I dont like it. 

But I then went on to think about myself in a break up. How I want the other person to miss me. How I, in a twisted way, think its kindof flattering when someone is fucked up after losing me. Which is partially why I’m having a hard time knowing Jesse is fine and has moved on. Because I want to be mourned more. I want to have more visibly affected him. 

And I wonder if, and I’m not saying that my Mom is in any way twisted, or thinking maliciously... this is just my weird thought trail, 

But like, if I died and my family were really “fine” quite quickly afterwards, I feel like I’d be a bit bothered! Is that so immature of me? Like of course I’d want them to be functioning and get out there and do their thing, but not like... too soon! I guess everybody copes differently... I feel very out of touch with what other peoples’ lives are actually like. But just, I feel like my world is much more shattered than I was ready for. But is that my fault? For not “getting over it” faster? But Mom was everything, beyond words of worth or value, her love was like gravity. And it was August 9th, 2015 when it happened. Wow, I just had to look up the year. I guess its been longer than I thought? I dont know. I just feel like my processors are broken. 

Anyways. I feel like I have so much to unpack about this. “I dont know who I’d be without that noise.” Like, I am now a girl without her Mom. I am Joanna without my Mom. And I dont know who I am. I held on to what I thought was normal, with my relationship with Jesse. But now that ending obliterated the false bonds I had convinced myself were working. The phantom ties. 

Theyre gone, and I feel untethered. More purposeless than ever. 

When I didnt know who I was before, I leaned against trying to be a good daughter. That was a wall of my definition of self. But now that wall is gone, with her. I still want to be a good daughter, but showing up for her and having her love and friendship is gone. I know the tra-la-la “she’s always with you” but I mean, in real-time, its gone. 

And its like, a break up. If you get over it too easily, it kindof seems like it wasnt that big of a deal to you. 

But unconditional love is different, right?

I dont even think I know what unconditional love means. I dont think humans are that perfect. I dont think its genuinely possible to unconditionally love someone. 

I find it hard to believe that Jesse cared for me that way. I dont think he thinks of me, I think he nothings me. You know? When its like, I dont like you, but I dont dislike you. I nothing you. 

I wish I nothing’ed him. I dislike him right now. I dont want bad luck to befall him, but I wish I didnt have to witness his happiness. Because I’m jealous. I want to be happy. When I’m upset and other people are happy I feel like theyre bragging about it, rubbing it in my face. Especially when its a partner or friend, and especially especially when its an Ex. 

I used to fear talking to my mom on the phone because if I was sad and needed help or support, she was always more sad. Sadder. And needed MY help. Or if I was happy, and wanted to share it, I was afraid it would sound braggy or she’d feel lesser-than compared to what I had going on. Like, at the beginnings of things with Jesse, I’d mention a detail about kissing or holding hands or something, and she’d get weird about it and throw in some comment about “I wish your father still kissed me” or “goodness, I miss that”  or something. 

I worry thats rubbed off onto me. If I’m upset, like, deeply bothered, I dont want other people around me to be good at walking away. I want to be seen, and to effect others. If I’m crying I want someone else’s mood to change if they see me or hear my story. I want to be respected for enduring the things that are happening. I feel like when people hear a sad personal tale or listen to what youre feeling at the moment, and get up at the end and are fine and just walk away, its incredibly rude and unfeeling and gross. Offensive, even. Maybe thats playing too much of the victim. 

The lawyer in me immediately says “stop wasting your energy trying to get other people to be sad like you, to see you for how sad you are, and use that energy to do something about your own sadness” 

but if youre sad, and just put in the energy to make it go away, is that fixing it? or just ignoring it? 

is ignoring pain the secret to success? just, get on with it? never let it catch up to you?

I wonder if thats everyones suppressed secret. That they ARE in pain, but just running from it. 

I want to be heard and to share my story before I can move on from it. Its like airing out a ghost. Giving it its proper attention and respect so its existence is justified, giving it love, really. I want even the sad parts to be loved. 

So when someone just gets up and walks away unphased from a story I’m explaining, I dont feel love or connection or anything at all. It almost adds to the pain itself. Setting it further back down the hill with even more to climb to escape. 

I stay in bed a lot. I’m not sure how to air out being upset about my ex Jesse. I want to run my mouth about the shit he was in our relationship. I was lousy too, but different. Definitely no saint, but I understand the quiet spectrum in the motivation of cheaters. Not all cheaters. But I get why some do what they do. Because I seeked out attention from other men, men from my past, because I needed more, but didnt want to give up what could maybe be built with Jesse. I was scared to lose the potential of him. But he behaved so coldly, often cruelly emotionally to me, both in obvious but also very quiet subtle ways, that I needed to be around the energy of men who knew me before all that. Old friends who knew my sparkle. Because I needed to remember it, myself. I wished and wished and wished Jesse saw my sparkle, at the beginning of our relationship I thought he did. Which is why I decided to move to his city from my own, and really give it a try. 

But I felt like just another hobby in his life, another thing that needed his precious time. I felt juggled between work, his band, and his motorcycle. Literally, if I saw his eyes light up because he ordered another guitar pedal or motorcycle part, I knew it meant less time/money/enthusiasm for me or our time together. This literally happened, time and time again. 

And after losing the one person in my life who I knew I was their everything, 

I needed to be loved more. I needed to be loved more than a new amplifier. I needed to have someone look at me and get excited like they would when something new would arrive from Amazon. 

I needed to be appreciated for more than just when I was game to have sex. 

I needed to have my sparkle be seen and fanned. 

So I diminished, and I felt, after a while, that he didnt deserve me. That he didnt deserve my best. So when I traveled or was around old flames or friends who I knew understood me and made me feel great just being me, I gave THEM my best. Which, in black and white on paper, is cheating, and isnt cool. 

But my heart needed it. I shouldve broken up with Jesse so much sooner than I did. 

But now, we ARE broken up, and I’m super fucked up about it still. I’m glad we’re not together, but in a way like...  he treated me this way when we WERE together. Indifferent, not seeing how special I am. How great we could be. 

So its like... I guess he’s acting exactly the same. It hurt this much within the relationship, too... but when we were together at least I could yell at him about it. It felt good to yell at somebody for what hurts. His lack of attention still hurts, but now I have no right to get into a fight with him about it. 

Its all to be expected. His behavior. He left his wife to be with me. Someone of 8 fucking years. And he never talked about her really. So why should I be surprised that he doesnt talk about me, or miss me, or seem forlorn. He didnt seem forlorn for her. He was barely single. He wasnt single. He jumped right from her to me. And now he’s very shortly on to the next. I really shouldnt be surprised. 

It would be easier if he wasnt so entrenched in all the people I know. 

Theres always a risk of seeing him out. I wish I was more mature about this. But honestly I’d feel the same even if we were just friends from the start. Its like seeing someone you just simply dont like, regardless of context. If someones a jerk, you dont want them to be where you are. 

I may leave Austin. Its weird, being trapped by comfort. My house is pretty good. Like, the shape of the house itself is cute. Theres a porch. Theres a patio, and a coffee shop across the street. 

But I dont feel happy here. I have no idea where I’d go. But I’m sick of living in a pot house. EEEVery day its bowl bong weed pot cough cough sneeze laugh lame joke bong bong lame joke bad pun leaving dishes fucking everywhere hoarding objects and never using them leaving dirt and coats and shoes and opened mail and bullshit all over the place. 

I feel like I cant bitch because I dont have a job. I’m lazing around sleeping 80% of the day because... of what? Because of sadness, because I dont really want to go out there. I dont want to interact with my roommates who I find annoying. I dont want to take a walk around the neighborhood that I think its pretty boring. I dont want to go to bars and feel less than my past self. Fatter. Older. Uglier. I dont want to go feel my inadequacy proven right. Jesse treated me that way. I moved here five months after my Mom died. Brand new city. 

And I didnt get a job. I didnt do a whole lot of anything. And he hated me for it. He didnt understand and it leaked in. It absolutely showed. 

So now its February 2018. So many months have passed. And I’m still not doing anything. I just dont want to. I dont know where to get a job here, I dont want to commit my time to something that doesnt feel like anything. I want to exercise but it requires a 15 minute drive to get there. I want to cook but our kitchen is so fucking cluttered it drives me nuts. 

Am I too uptight? Like, is this coming off like I cant function unless somethings perfect? 

Im sure it sounds that way... I just... feel no spark. When my new roommate cleaned the bathroom and had music going and was doing the shit I normally do, I felt so pleased and relatable, it was marvelous. But then other two roommates come home and toss their coats all over and smoke weed and plop down watching stupid shows, and it just.. 

Should I try to be more of a leader? Force my way through it and burn my own trail? If theyre watching dumb shit, suggest something better? Take an active interest in life?

I definitely have been passive. I want other people to be interesting. I want to be intrigued by someone’s starting something. Somebody to already have the breadcrumbs laid down and I get to follow them and add to the adventure. I dont know if I have the energy to take the risk of being bold and leading the way, not knowing the caliber of people I’m talking to or bringing with me. Like, I want to spend energy being great around someone I already think is great. I miss having crushes. If I think someone is awesome, I feel like I then get to be super awesome too, in hopes that showing my favorite self, enjoying my own shine... that they’ll notice and enjoy it too. 

But like, why shine for boring people? I dont have any interest in that. I dont want to impress people that dont impress me. 

That sounds super bitchy but whatever. 

Anyways. I’m way off track. 

I just remembered that I need to call my Aunt Carol, who I think is mad at me, because she retired today and I’m overdue to call her. I really dont want to but it needs to be done. Calling a family member that you know is disappointed in you is NEVER fun. I feel the weight on my chest already. Okay, gonna call her. I’ll write again soon. 

#emotion journal #rant

[joannawillshrink]

havent worked out in two weeks

and I’m going surfing in Ecuador in ... 8 days. so, yea guess whos gonna be fat in all her photos! 

I wish I knew how to not be in a shit mood all the time. Just came home from a show, for example, and like... I cant tell if my bitchiness is justified. The show was glorious. But when we exited the theater, “we” being my roommates and I, an Uber home was $30. I suggested we snag a beer somewhere and wait out prime rates. But my one roommate girl wasnt into it, so much so you could even hear it in her tone, and so... we walked. We walked in the rain. And it was mostly fine, but she kept power walking and zipping across cross walks in yellow lights as if there were some grand rush or destination. We were just walking in the general direction of our house so as to A. run the clock so the Uber surge would be lower, and B. we’d be slightly closer to our destination which would cut the price down. So I get it. But I insisted right as we left the venue that I didnt want to walk all the way to ____Bar (dont wanna name it), because I had done that a couple weeks prior for the same reasons and it didnt end well for me because it was shit weather to walk in, and when I got as far as I felt comfortable walking, the place I waited for the car to pick me up well, I guess I’ll just say I got bothered and approached by a lot of homeless men / drunk dudes / generally like... unsavory people. It killed the vibe of the show I had walked from.   So! I said this to my roommates, that I didnt want to do that walk again. So we’re walking, and zigging and zagging and theyre kindof ahead of me and I just kindof feel like, left behind. My male roommate proclaims “I’d be down to stop at ______ and get pretzels!” to which my female roommate agrees. and I shrug because I dont want food and internally find humor that like, they dont mind stopping and spending money at this place, but not initially back by the venue for a drink and a sit down. BUT anyways, so we’re in there, I’m watching them buy pretzels and when we go to leave, my female roommate decides to take us down a back alley instead of the normal road. At which point, this really challenging homeless lady approaches us and is mumbling a mile a minute and not making any sense and following us very closely and then arguing with herself mixed with swearing at us. My male roommate gave her one of his pretzels and we kept walking. I do not know why my female roommate did this the way she did, but apparently we were to get our Uber pickup like, a block north? Instead of finding a nice corner to wait on, she pinned it further away so we had to walk and go catch it? So this awkward interaction with this homeless woman, being followed, and then apparently our ride drove past us before we could reach it. None of this was spoken aloud until she goes “oh, our car is gone.” I’m pissed at this point. Its raining. Its a creepy depressing road by a gas station. And while we’re waiting for the car I didnt know we were getting at a pin we werent even at at the time...ugh... while we were waiting for that car to circle back around, the homeless lady walked back up to us. She’s just staring at me. And like, just... it sounded as if she was speaking into a tape recorder and then playing the audio backwards. With occasional audible swear words. I think I heard her say something about my roommate giving her a pretzel. But she’s so close to me and like, shifting her wait, and then throwing her hands to her stomach saying “ow ow!” as if someone invisible just punched her... Neither of my roommates are saying anything, I’m staring at my female roommate like “YO IS THIS CAR COMING OR>>>>???” so fucking annoyed. No ones saying anything to this homeless lady, and we cant walk away now because of the car my roommate “secured” in such a lame manner. Like... 

I feel like a bitch. Because even the simplest shit, I think I can do it better than other people. It would have continued the lovely vibe of the show if we could have all just gotten one beer, sat at some bar table or something and gushed about what we had just seen!!! Inside, in a warm place, not getting rained on, not getting followed, not wandering around dark, dingy parts of town!!! we wouldve run the surge clock out, they wouldve spent the same money on pretzels on a drink instead. Like... just.. UGH. and then we wouldve had a car from a nice safe cute part of town. 

I’m not trying to be bougie and ignore the plight of the homeless and mentally ill. It just... our night didnt have to look like that. And they didnt have to be so disorganized... Its just shit like that that makes me remember why I travel alone. Because I can do things my way, just how I like, whenever I like. I think I have finesse and style and DONT UNDERSTAND WHY SO FEW PEOPLE SEEM TO HAVE THAT SHIT TOGETHER. 

And so we get home, and immediately theyre like “heeeeyyy lets smoke a bowl!” because theyre always fucking smoking. always. ALLLWAYYYS. I dont know how to be cool about it anymore. I just think its fucking lame. I need to find a forum of other people that think stoners are lame. Because I feel so alone. I dont know how to change my mind on this! Like, my roommates are becoming more and more lame, and it increases when theyre high. It stinks up the house, their jokes arent funny, they just sit around making bad puns about House Hunters or my roommate’s dog’s name. Endlessly. Its not funny! Its just dumb, and I’m really tired of fake laughing. And recently my female roommates boyfriend started spending more time here and he stays here when she’s out at work and stuff and basically lives here and he’s a weed smoker too, so I just feel fuckin square and lame and old as shit. 

Its not a bad house to live in. At all. Theyre nice. Theyre supportive and creative people. I just... am I being a mega snob? Needing more? Is it grass is always greener? like, if I lived with more ambitious people would it feel like, too harsh or maybe I would start to feel like I was the lame one. I dont know. I just, miss sexiness and sharpness, real humor, wit. Edge. Speed. Fucking saavy. Does that make any sense? I’m going crazy. No I’m not. I think I just need different friends, and more will power to break off from a vibe I’m not into. I couldve easily said “hey, I dont feel like walking, I’mma do my own thing, I’ll see ya’ll at home.”

...

its a constant divide in my mind; wanting to feel less lonely, while being so fucking irritated by people. WHAT DO I DO HOW DO PEOPLE EXIST OUT HERE. 

#rant

[joannawillshrink]

Sometimes I feel so emotionally defective that I dont think I should exist anymore. LIke a damaged product that cant be on the sales floor anymore. A broken person that cant be fixed so gets sent to the incinerator. I dont know how it got this far. I want to pay a surgeon to cut all the ugly off of me. I want to not hate my body and not hate my mind. I dont know how to exist. I feel sorry for people who have to deal with me. I wouldnt want to be this persons friend. I wouldnt want to sleep with this body. I hardly like to touch my own self. I examine my body and every part of the scan has a problem. An ugly part. Something that should be fixed but I never seem to muster the energy to try. I want to just curl up into a ball and melt into the ground, dissolve away in the rain. Shrivel up and blow away. 

#emotion journal #depression

[joannawillshrink]

i dont understand why these arent marked with the date

I didnt write down the date of when I started this, so I dont know what day I’m on. 

I do know that I’m on day 5 of the Booty Core workout, but I skipped the weekend. And skipped yesterday, and maybe another day somewhere in there. And have been doing Barre3 sporadically throughout. 

But then there was that day I ate a ton of sushi from Central Market, and cookies, and a bag of these “healthy” alternative cheeze puff things that were made of chickpea flour. 

Tuesday was debilitating. I went in to therapy and wept a lot and felt so lost in a tizzy and embarassed and nonsensical, but Claire was very supportive. And the following day, Wednesday, yesterday, felt a lot better. I had spent Tuesday night after therapy doing a workout and cooking, listening to mood tones on youtube, and reading about incantations and feminine divine and sorcery from a new friend’s facebook page. Had a candle burning the whole time. It was a great day. This, I believe, empowered Wednesday to be a great day. Went to Barre3, came home and made a delicious quiche, played piano for a while, and sketched & made drawings for the art critique that night and was quite pleased with my work. Honestly I didnt even really want the critique to happen, I was just enjoying being happy with my own shit. Didnt really feel like putting on aires around new people or taking energy input. But it was mostly women who came over, and Connor. And Trey of course. And it was all really great energy, and I felt good being able to have a chance to say art schooly smarty pants things and get good responses. It felt good to feel smart again. 

Then everyone started leaving, but two new people came over. They had missed the whole critique, and just, I duno. I didnt like the vibe after the critique was over. It turned into weed smoking central, around and around and around the bong went. And I’m learning about myself that I dont really like the weed culture, or really the anything in excess culture. Why cant we just... be ourselves? I’m a bit of a hypocrite though because I enjoyed a lot of wine last night out of nerves and manual fixation and just... yea. But. I duno. So these two new dudes come by and its no longer about art talk but just, hanging out. and it was getting late and honestly my energy was really spent already from the people who were over beforehand. So I was feeling myself getting pissy and starting to experience that “robbed” feeling, like... weirdly like a victim. These guys were nice and all but I wish they hadnt come over. My bedroom is right next to the living room and I prefer that when a party is over, and I get to go to bed, that thats the hint that everyone should go. 

I like it when everyone leaves, THEN I leave. But this, I got up and was the first to leave. But it was just through the wall, so even though I wasnt in the room anymore I could still hear everything and felt really odd and uncomfortable. I was very pleased when about an hour or so later they left and then later after that my roommates excused themselves to go to their own bedrooms and the house was quiet. 

I know it shouldnt be that big of a deal, but I wish the critique had had an end point, a sense of completion to wrap up with. Then we’d have our house back and could tidy up and go on about our nights. I dont want party vibes. I dont want stoners lounging in my living room leaving their half empty beers and getting crumbs all over the floor, talking about boring inconsequential shit. 

Its leaked over into my Thursday, today. I do think its the wine, too. I do feel depressed the day following drinking. Anxious, regretful but not sure what for. Its strange. 

Been trying to google where to get blood drawn to get hormone levels tested but I’m not having a ton of luck. 

I say that because I, despite barre3 influx and the bootycore whatever, havent lost any weight at all and in fact seem chubbier and looser than ever. Like, jowls on my face seem loose. And double chin fat. Jigglier. And I dont think I eat THAT horribly for it all to stick to this degree. I feel more flexible and have decent power, muscle strength... my cardio sucks. I really should work on that, but its a bitch to start working on things you know youre not good at. 

Anyway. I think I have a hormone imbalance, that maybe was triggered with cortisol when losing mom, but honestly I think its mostly to do with the abortion. After that, I started getting consistent gas that hasnt gone away, sleep even more than usual... I mean, my sex libido has been fucked for quite some time... I dont know. I just feel like maybe I’m broken. Like maybe theres some culprit to these issues. My facial skin has been so dry, my belly has gotten bigger, chin rolls, tons of sleep, no sex drive, I duno. 

I used to love to be tan, had glistening hair, flirted and felt horny sometimes, created without fear. Maybe this is just my winter and I’m truly hibernating or in a coccoon metamorphosizing. I wish liposuction didnt leave scars. Or Kybella worked in one session rather than like, five. 

I kindof miss living alone. I dont really like checking in with people and explaining everything I’m doing. I like to be left alone more often. I love my roommates but I hate feeling compelled to always have something to say. Blah. Its great right now because no one’s audibly home. Even though I’m in my room, I still feel a sense of serenity being the only one here. A feeling of freedom. I wonder what thats about. 

Anyways. I signed on here because for day 5 of bootycore, I’m supposed to write down 3 things I’m grateful for today. About my body. thats the distinction. otherwise i’d say im grateful for songbirds, sunshine, and peanut butter. 

so here goes- 

1) I’m grateful for my strength and the ability to recognize it as the burn happens

2) I’m grateful for how good it feels to go up on relevé at the end of certain barre series

3) I’m grateful ... um. That I dont bite my nails. They grow long and its nice. 

OK thats enough for now. 

#grateful #21 day booty core #emotion journal

[joannawillshrink]

emotion journal

day three. did a barre3 class and the booty core workout yesterday for day two. then went out to see a friend play his music, and to another bar to see another friend play in an ELO cover band. the bartender is someone i have a crush on, but who’s going to italy with his girlfriend soon. i drank too much wine. and smoked a cigarette that was way too strong and then drove to hotel vegas to try and just, be around the party longer. but strolling by the closed bar felt lackluster so i kept walking and found a hot dog vendor and ate. drove home and smoked a bowl with my roommates and obliterated myself. way too high. i never smoke weed so i regret that. it wasnt fun. so i slept in today and missed the women’s march and a 25 cent thrift store event and have been in bed all day. I know drinking depresses me the next day. im not sure if its been this way my whole adult life and i didnt notice, or if its new. i dont really like anything on days like this. i dont want to get out of bed. its just nicer in here. i didnt do a barre3 workout because i didnt like the classes offered. i did email the brass ovaries people though, so i need to get started on those classes. 6 in 30 days. should be cool. sarah called me today and had an experience with a guy that reminded me of the negative experience i had with a guy recently. i hate the trump election and i hate that its been a whole year and all the nastiness its stirred up. i hate me too because it makes me think of all the shit thats gone wrong in my experiences with men. all the times i wish i’d stood up for myself more instead of just going with it. all the way back, to that stupid polaroid photo i sent fucking tyler morse in... 9th grade? or even way back to nicole pressuring me to sneak out of my parents motel suite in myrtle beach to go hang out with guys. even way back then i was afraid of being boring. i was scared she wouldnt like me if i was boring, i felt like i had to entertain her. she was with us for a whole week, if it was lame or i wasnt cool ... i didnt think id be able to stand it if she huffed all week, looking at her face and seeing boredom... that still leaks into my daily life now. fifteen years later. 

still gonna do the booty core workout today. i dont want to. because i dont want to do anything except get in my car and go buy cupcakes or go to alamo drafthouse and spend money taking myself to a movie. all i want to do is spend money. boredom buster. 

i need a job. i need to have a reason to be on my feet more often, but i want the freedom to go on trips. March is gonna be a crazy month. what if i just find a stupid job and work the month of february to make money, then quit for SXSW and the surf trip... hmm. 

anyways. baby steps i guess. redefining my ideas of going out and how to make it fun with moderation, trying to get to the bottom of the fear of being boring and get over it, trying to figure out what the hell human people actually DO day in day out to pass the time. Life feels so long and weird. I hate donald trump. I wish i was skinnier. I want to buy cream cheese icing cupcakes. fuck this day. 

#rant #emotion journal

[joannawillshrink]

Booty Core Daily Om workout

Do a 1 page free write exploring the question: How am I feeling in my body right now?a. Here are some words to use to explore this topic. If any of them resonate with you, include them in your writing and explain why.Connected, disconnected, balanced, imbalanced, strong, able, aloof, weak, flexible, mobile, tight, tense, relaxed, comfortable, at ease, integrated, compartmentalized, powerful, incapable, supported, drained, capable, comfortable, uncertain, wary, unsure, tentative, beautiful, loved.

I’m procrastinating taking the “before” photos. Convinced I have to do them alone, not wanting to ask Laura to take them for me. Convinced I need to clean my room and have a plain white wall to take them in front of. I really want to just take a long shower and watch more Office. So here we are. Okay. oookay okay okay. Gotta do the one page free write. Gotta do the photos first. Then the free write. Then the half hour workout. Then take out the trash. THEN, take a shower. 

Okay... here we go. Wait for me while I tackle these photos. 

...annnd we’re back. Took the photos by propping my front-facing cell phone camera on a pile of blankets on the bed. 

General consensus, I do not look great. My head looks too small for my body. Big belly, squidgy arms, back rolls, cellulite. Fun. May post them here, no one looks at this blog anyway so who cares. On to the writing exercise: 

How am I feeling in my body right now?

Heavy. I feel heavy and clumsy and round. But not in a graceful curve round way. But in a thumping, lumpy round way. Like a heavy bag hitting the floor and it flattens out and spills over its edges in a way. I feel like when I dance or move a certain way, I look like a joke. Like a “who is she kidding?” vibe. I used to be smaller and danced and felt sexy and it made sense. But I feel like if I were to dance how I want to now, I’m like, the novelty friend. The “you go girl!” heavy friend who maybe inspires empowered comments because I’m like, dancing DESPITE my weight or something. I dont know. I just feel gross. I dont like feeling my rolls rub against each other. I feel trapped and heavy and bumbling and cumbersome. I want to be fluid and flowy, and when I try to move like a ballerina I feel like it looks humorous. Like when you watch a youtube video of a really heavy set man doing a jetee or pliee or arabesque, it looks nice and you can see his passion, but the inner vanity cant entirely see past the slight ridiculousness of the scene. We were taught from childhood that that image was slightly ridiculous. Disney depicted hippos in tutus dancing to symphony music, and it was surreal and I believe intended to be fantastical and ludicrous. Not humble and understanding. Big bouncing heavy weight hippos in tutus and point shoes were meant to be impossible. So now, I guess... I feel like I cant be who I want if my body feels this way. Not even so much for how others perceive me, but for how I perceive myself. I want a small waist. I want thinner arms and lithe wrists. I dont mind a booty and some cellulite, but I want the shapes to be there. I want clothes to fit. 

I dont like wearing sweatpants so often because other waistbands dig into my gut. I’m sick of trying on size Large jackets or sweaters and haveing the arms STILL be like sausage casing. 

How am I feeling in my body right now? TBH? 

Pretty lame. 

#21 day booty core #dailyom