Body Dysmorphia - Part 1

We all have something we would love to open up. It's probably something good and enlightening, or a past that we feel constricted to even mention a snippet of it. Everyone takes a different length of time to warm up, go through catharsis and disclose their subject. I am revealing this to a part of the Internet, but, I have yet to tell my own family members about my problem.

I learnt about body dysmorphia disorder after I had written this entry. I didn't even know what to label it at that time. I was 16 then, I am turning 18 now. I was 14 when it all started. 

Many people on the Internet have been disclosing this topic pretty recently, it made me happy. It's always a relief to know that you can relate to someone. But, the rise and fame of the subject created more controversies and doubts from others. So, for a long time, I said nothing about my issue, as I avoided being called an 'attention-seeker' by people. That was such a stupid thought.

I feel awfully vulnerable posting a really private diary page here. I just hope that you all can read this with an open mind and have an insight of a somewhat disordered mind (super controversial here). I stand by spreading the awareness of the topic, and help out those who fail to admit or are having a tough time to open up to their body dysmorphia, and eating disorder problems.

Useless disclaimer, I apologize for any grammatical and sentence structure errors in the diary entry. I have learnt more about English in the past year. However, I would want it to be completely raw and unrefined, therefore I am not restructuring it.

Diary Entry on 03/12/2016 

I'll show you how I would think. Numbers and tapes and the horrifying noise of the measurer being pulled open, it was like a relaxing hobby that I would be longing for in car rides home, little did I know in the beginning, it would be cancerous.

Listen to this. The absolute bonkers on how many times I would research the same question, reading through the same wiki page, as if I would somehow fully interpret the procedure and earn success with the steps given. Use your instincts like how you cure your own wound. Yes, I did. My own workout routine and original weight losing techniques. The small bouncing ball in between my thighs and oddly coordinated calves position. Sea salt rubbing on my 'fat' areas, and I still wondered why I lingered an ocean scent after a shower.

Oh, please don't show me the mirror when I am wearing a bathing suit, as I would a suck a gulp of air on my lung, deflating my stomach, the force to go to the loo every now and then, hoping the meat inside of me will be flushed out. Pinches and slaps and blading motions and stares and punches and pinches and slaps and the never ending deterioration of my body and mind. Do not complain, my friends and relatives, you have not seen the amount of videos I made of me crying to my younger self and a file of pictures, saved as 'ugly hips'.

When I started having a strong hate on rice and potatoes (and anything that's carbs), it was the same time I got myself another measuring tape. Endless stories of my imbalance meaty structure on Yahoo answers, thinking that strangers may have a more neutral and honest opinion on my body. I started starving. I started choking and gargling on my food that I ate so sparingly. Oh, I was never the bright girl in health class anyways, though I understood what bulimia and anorexia meant. With an empty stomach, I gave myself a push to run and do squats and more running then more bicycle kicks. I tried to jog my so called flabs away. I tried to jump to sweat more, when I should be scrunching my oh-so-functional thoughts away. It didn't end.

Hear me. No, you don't understand. No one will understand, a familiar line I was proud of. Sure, I had problems. I still have problems. It ended. It hasn't finish. But it was done for ages ago. I am able to treat what I hate the most to a grateful appreciation to an old enemy, back to a single sided dislike again. It was never here. It was here. And it still is.