Blurred

7:09 a.m.

I'm starting to feel human again. Friday I went to a doctor, (after being told by everyone I know to PLEASE CALL A DOCTOR ALREADY) who told me that I might have had strep, but whatever I had turned on me, so by then I had a nasty sinus infection. So, pills, pills, and more pills. Saturday was sort of awful and I went through an entire jumbo box of Kleenex. Then I took Nyquil. Sweet, sweet Nyquil. And slept eleven hours. Yesterday I felt good enough to finish a painting, make pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, and then worry a lot about being fat (perfect timing with the cookies! Good job, Kara.).

I've been reading a lot of articles and message boards online about body image, eating disorders, etc. I had a good month or so there where I wasn't feeling fat every damn second of every damn day, and although I haven't gained weight, the last few days I've been feeling huge again. Maybe it's in direct relation to laying in bed for a week while sick, or maybe it has to do with PMS. Whatever the reason, it seems to be back. Briefly, I've decided.

What's most disconcerting and uncomfortable, in all my reading, is seeing how many girls and women who weigh 130, 120, 110, 100 pounds, still feel fat. Who are absolutely convinced they are fat. And have friends telling them they really need to lose ten more pounds. It's depressing. I wonder if I did weigh 120 pounds, would I even be happy and satisfied? Or would I still feel like I should lose just a few more? Just a few more? I wonder, what would it be like to not ever think about weight? How free would that feel? I'm horrified when I see a lifetime ahead of me, a whole lifetime comparing and trying and guilt over five to ten pounds. I don't want to spend my life like that. How long can I make this last?

What a stupid way to spend my time on earth.

I know I'm healthy.

So what the hell? Why are things this way?

I hoped perspective would help. I took some photos. I've used art to explore my body image issues in the past.

















































When I look at these, I like how they look. I like how I look. I know they're blurred. It seems appropriate.

Why can't we ever be satisfied?

black sheep