I just studied myself, naked, in the mirror for a solid twenty minutes.
I drew where I want my next tattoo.
The one that I told myself I'd get when I stopped cutting. (It will be two months on the 10th.)
I don't know when I'll be able to afford it, but I think I'm ready to get it.
I think I'm ready to recover.
(Typing that sent a serious wave of panic through me. I want to erase it. I want erase this whole post and declare the start of a 4-day fast and make myself tiny.)
So let's not say "recover."
Let's say "put my methods more in line with my goals."
Let's say "stop being at war with my body."
Let's say "my body is not a battlefield; it is my weapon."
Let's say that weapon needs to be upgraded.
Let's say I am upgrading my weapon.
Let's say that I keep lifting weights like I (re-)started last week. Let's say that I keep running.
Let's say that I aim for 100-120 grams of protein every day, and let's acknowledge that that means a higher intake than I'd like.
But let's also acknowledge that a week of that, even with the food fests over the weekend, may not have moved the scale (I'm afraid to look), but definitely changed the makeup of my body. I flex my abs and see muscle. I have a waist that goes in.
I will never be dainty. I know that. I have always known that. I have always known that I will be disappointed. I'm just too muscular. My art, the way that I want to approach my art, requires me to be muscular.
I cannot become dainty at the expense of dance.
And so this is a commitment to change.
It's been one month and one day since I last purged.
It's been almost two months since I last cut.
It's been 19 hours since I last ate (whoops), but I'm making cauliflower crust pizza tonight so that will change soon.
From here on out, health. I will strive for health, strength, speed, and stamina in relation to my body, and I will not fool myself into thinking that cutting, purging, or fasting will help me achieve those goals.