Hello again. Remember me? Only too well. That number down there is 127, and it shows us how much you're failing, how much you're losing yourself in trying to find yourself, how much bigger you're getting.
I see the number come up, one I haven't seen in a while. Then again, I used to do this everyday. I'm sure it misses me sometimes, but I was trying not to care so much about numbers. Now, it seems like I'm just avoiding it because I know how much worse it can get. Correction, how much worse I'm getting. That number is a digital number that appears when I feel like stepping on a small, white, square thing Americans call a "scale". It measures how . . . dense you are, for lack of a better word.
One day, I decided to take a look at how I've been doing. Usually I eat relatively well, trying to fit in fruits and vegetables as much as I can, and of course I exercise everyday. Americans call that "P.E.". I like running, and seem to put forth more effort into my weekly mile than most students. But this was shocking news, this new number. It was a rewind of my past, where I used to be, the old times of not eating for most of the day and ignoring a roaring stomach. Then pigging out on Fridays, of course. This number was 127.
That's normal, okay? It's not overweight, it's not anything drastic. It's not even something I should be worried about (or should have been). It just made me feel kind of . . . off, outside my zone. Usually I range between 120-124. Yes, I know, I'm making a big deal out of nothing. See, it's not the number I was worried about because I knew I could very easily drop a few pounds and become less self-conscious again. It was what the number meant. 127 meant I was eating more, and I knew this was the only reason because it was true.
I had begun stuffing my face that week.
What week? The first week my shield was broken, when I first started bawling every night, but that's another story. (Article 11616). I started eating more and more, never feeling full, never feeling complete. I'm actually surprised that number wasn't bigger, to be quite honest. However, that number, those few digits on a machine, they made me realize what I was doing. It's a cliched thing to do, but it's real. I was eating to fill the void. To make the world that wasn't good taste good in my mouth. I've slowed this process down by now and this number has lowered back between that original range, but seeing 127 made me remember that I wasn't invincible. That this world still hurt, even when it felt so good before.
I need to change something, and start it quickly, because I keep trying to fix what's going on in my head, why I do all these weird and crazy things, and I just can't wrap my mind around a way to change. What can I do? Become my angry, self-centered self again? That will hurt everyone. It would be counterproductive.
I need to find a way to stop losing who I am, because I'm beginning to miss who I was.