The Chase

Hello new followers. What a pleasant thing to see when I logged onto blogger. Thanks for making my morning.

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This place seems like an old friend or a relative. That person that you love talking to and telling stories with. The person who listens to all those little things you find interesting, and you get to the point where you think, "Have I said this already?"

I'm sure I repeat myself constantly. In my head, I outline the nonsense I want to say, the message I want to convey in each post. Sometimes I have a little story to go along with it or sagely advice. Then I think to myself, "How embarrassing would it be to realize later I've basically repeated a blog from 8 months ago?"

There are bigger things in the world to worry about but these are the things I choose to spend my time fretting over.

Needless to say, we may have reached the point in our relationship where you have to tell me that we've already talked about that. I've told you this particular thing. You know that already.

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Those of you who have hung around for awhile know how I feel about the show Dexter. One of my most popular rants (which I can tell is a high traffic post because almost all 39 comments are spam bots!) is about him. That time feels so far removed. I remember what it was like to be so little, the obsessions that ran through my mind 24/7, and the lengths I went to just to get through a day.

I felt so far gone that I could relate to a serial killer. A likable one, albeit, but still. Which is worse, the fact that my thinking was so disordered or the fact that I miss it now?

Television is one of the most important things to me in the world. It's a real escape. I can't stand film because you know it's going to be over in 2 hours. My favorite shows provide the promise that if I can just hold on for one more week, I can transport myself back into that world once again. Suppose fiction books are the same, but I've been in school for so long without time to read that I don't really know how to pick the habit up again.

Television is the same as food. It numbs me out. The first few minutes, the first bite are addicting. I never want it to end. I chase that feeling, knowing that the remaining time, what's left on the plate, won't be as satisfying. But I just want to experience that first taste again. The sheer joy of escape.

Dexter started again last Sunday. I waited as long as possible to track it down and watch. I knew that watching it would lead to inevitably seeing its conclusion. Dancing with the notion of its promise was more exciting. I couldn't wait anymore. It was an hour well spent. But I noticed that I no longer understood the motives of our protagonist. He hadn't changed but I had.

But I haven't. Not really. I talk about food constantly. I never want to go outside because it means putting on clothes which means thinking about a wardrobe full of garments that don't fit me. It's my longing to be back to a time where I felt fat with a BMI that flirted with underweight (that seems like a healthier ideal than skeletal thin, right?). Despite this ache and cravings and good (bad?) intentions, I can't seem to stand behind them with any conviction. I've lost the drive. It's just too hard.

In the end though, I'm not fighting with some "recovered" part of myself. None of you in my position are. We got thin, painfully thin, disgustingly frail. We let ourselves eat again, gain weight. Played with the idea of control and who had it. And now we are just as unhappy as ever. But we aren't better. We are just fleshy versions of the same self. And the person that we wish to be isn't who we used to be. Our memories are distorted and we have become nostalgic for a time that didn't exist. We want something that, looking back at it, seemed so effortless.

I lost how much weight? How fast? Why can't I do that again?

I can't because I haven't come to terms with the agony I was in before. It wasn't easy. I'm chasing that first bite, the allure of thin. Running after a version of myself that is as real as the television world I long to be in.

Of course, as usual, I have no answers. No words of wisdom to impart. Nothing I can say will make you step away from your computer thinking, I am enlightened and I know what I must do now. The best I can hope is you will sit and read these words, silently nodding to yourself. I can relate. You know what I'm thinking. We're in this together.

Stop chasing that escape.