Prisoner

March is almost over. April 5th will be one year since the fire. What has changed in my life? How is my body looking today compared to one year ago?

The answers lie within. Hidden and blocked. My body is a testament to my strength and discipline. It will be a lifelong endeavor, keeping this up.

It's my mission and I won't fail.

And yet. I feel strongly that my capabilities are limited. I rarely believe I can do it. Oddly enough, I fear failure so I fear success. Because what comes after riches and many monetary accompaniments? Emptiness. Withdrawal. Non-committal perspective.

I long to be fulfilled but sometimes I confuse myself with the desire to eat, as if food will do anything other than make me sick. 

I wish I had more confidence. I can fake it, but it's not real and true.

It's a falsity! It's a lie! It's a mirror mask, and you are me! We all die inside, knowing that we're all the same. Striving for identity has become this all-consuming task. 

I'm done. 

I refuse to feel sorry for poor little me. I am privileged. I feel like a prisoner.

A job does not equal a person. I am not my (proverbial) job. I am not my lack thereof. I am SAR, dammit, and I need to not care what you think.

I feel this crazy pressure from my parents to work. I tell people I'm unemployed with a heavy shame to my voice. I think of myself as less. I question my tactics...I bought "What color is your parachute?" and read one chapter. I fail at failing.

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Deep breath. 

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I met a man. He is K.

K. is nice, tall, works, and has a car. This is what I know after two (kind of long) phone conversations. He actually called, like an old-fashioned gentleman (gasp!), and we chatted. It was nice.

We will get coffee this week. I don't know how I feel about breaking my no-dating-until-a-job rule. Actually, I break rules every day so why would I even concern myself with such nonsense?

Hope everyone is staying strong. I was given the Versatile Blogger Award. For now, I'll refer you back to 10 Things About Me. You know I prefer a little anonymity.

Think thin. Always.

I want this body.

I can have it.

So can you.

So we will.

Xo Sar