If you do not get this part, your friends, family, and boyfriend will all still love you.
If you do not get this part, your hard work as an actor has still caused you to grow immensely in skill and your career will not die.
If you do not get this part, you still had a successful year because you performed a wonderful recital and impressed your superiors.
If you do not get this part, you are still worth just as much as you were before.
If you do not get this part, you will still make it through the show. You will act and sing well and try your very best because that is what kind of person you are. You are not a diva.
If you do not get this part, you will be hurt. You will cry. You’ll probably even get angry. But you will get over it because you have survived SO much worse and believe it or not, your armor is thicker than that.
You have survived abuse and severe bullying and self destruction and abandonment. You have survived hopelessness and mental illness and years of pain and misery, yet have still emerged a compassionate and empathetic person. You love with all you have and have not been ruined by your adverse experiences- experiences that most of the people around you can’t even fathom. You’ve stared death in the face while chained to a hospital bed - TWICE - and you overcame it.
THAT is who you are. You are LOVE. You are STRENGTH. You are HOPE. You are COURAGE.
You are not Roxie Hart. You are not defined or limited in such a way. The placement of the letters of your name on a sheet of paper tomorrow will not break you.
Because you are so much more than that.
… I’m so much more than that.
There are so many downsides to being such a pathetically sensitive person
This heart is way too big and it overflows. Sometimes I wish I could just reach into my chest, rip it out, and keep it somewhere where it can’t ever get hurt
Today I am feeling very
fat worthless unattractive insignificant down on myself.
This is probably because I weighed myself for the first time since the summer of 2012 (when I was on an ED kick that later that year spiraled into a bad bulimic episode) and realized that I am 10 pounds heavier than I thought I was.
As of today, I am twenty pounds heavier than my naturally-skinny, almost-50-year-old mother, who is also two inches taller than me. My BMI is resting at 23, meaning I am on the high end of the healthy weight range for my height. I’ve been noticing that I look bigger in pictures so I have avoided going out this semester. I haven’t watched my recital video yet because I’m afraid of how fat I’m going to think I look in it. I spent my entire formal consumed with food guilt and thinking about how huge I felt compared to everyone else.
This had already started to become a problem. And now, my brain has a number to fuel the problem. I have to fight to make sure this doesn’t turn into a relapse, and I won’t allow that to happen, but the thought is tempting and my ego is absolutely shot.
I ran my anger until my body was dripping in sweat and I cried until my eyes turned red, and now I am laying in bed reading bible verses and assuring myself that the beauty of my heart is what really matters. I know it is. But it would be nice if I could feel good about the person on the outside too, for once…