Honesty and commitment

Sometimes I lie to myself.

Like when I just don't think about what I'm doing. I forget what I'm putting into my mouth, even when I try to remember it all. I look at photographs and remember how uncomfortable I felt, not how special an evening was. I feel lonely so I think I've got no friends. My brain is a strange funny place.

I'm aware with this blog, and daily food observations, of the need to hide even more. What if someone looks at what I've eaten and thinks how disgusting I am, how much I've eaten? I am terrified of that kind of judgement.

I am trying to be totally honest, here. I can't always be honest everywhere - a girl at work apparently lost four stone, and someone else was very blunt about the way she looked before. I didn't know her then. But I got that kind of stabbing pain in my chest - I can't admit that I'd like to lose close to that much too, without drawing attention to myself and how big I am at the moment.

Sometimes, I really like the way I look. I just don't always think that other people will agree with that. When I dress up nicely, I'm scared to draw people's gazes to me - what if they laugh at me, for thinking that a girl like me could look hot, and be confident, and hold a room. Hold the moment. I can't do that so much, yet. I can on stage, when I'm someone else and there's talent to hide behind. And I kind of can as an exhibitionist, when they're not looking at who I am but what I'm doing. But sometimes, I really do like how I look. Sometimes I even like my stomach, for all it's flab and stretch marks and scars.

I am going to try and be honest, here. There aren't going to be many people reading, I don't think, but that doesn't matter- lying to myself isn't going to get me out of the situation I'm in, and I really want to be in a different physical position at the end of the next six months.

Lying to myself won't get me there.

I need to make a proper commitment to doing this, properly, and making some serious changes. I think getting there is going to be really difficult. I am going to personify the battle, I think, as some kind of fuzzy creature I can tame. Right now my body thinks it's hungry, but I'm pretty sure that's not an honest feeling, just habit. And lies.

So I'm making a toast to honesty, I think, and leaning to remember to be honest with myself above all else. That piece of cake won't matter to anyone else but me, and I can't hide from the things I put into my own body.