i'm dying on the outside.
Lately I've been on a health-kick. Dieting, exercising (pathetic attempts at, if I'm honest), browsing weight-loss forums, and even venturing into a popular pro-eating disorder forum. It's like another universe there, where people bash themselves and document the torture they're putting their bodies through, and others commend them for it. They cheer them on. It's a sick, parallel universe, but I'm stuck there, glued to the weight and BMI stats of the members and fascinated by the fact that they have all taken the time to memorize the calorie content of most common foods. Eating disorders are scary and strange, and I would know. I've been struggling with binge eating since my parents split, with anorexic tendencies. I hate that word.
Such a nasty word. It leaves a foul taste in my mouth.
I've been logging my food intake and writing short passages of my thoughts after finishing exercise. It's helped me stick to it, so far. I feel better now than I did back in high school, where I would eat nothing for half the day, drive home at lunch, eat everything in sight, and then laze around for hours.
Aside from health, I've been applying for jobs, kind of. Christopher gave me an application for the restaurant he works at. According to him, they're "desperate" for hosts, so the job technically should be handed to me. Yesterday, however, I drove to the restaurant with the application and my resume at hand, sat there for fifteen minutes, and drove away. I was so nervous I started panicking. I tell myself it's because I'm unprepared, but I know it's because I don't want a job, I don't want to talk to someone I don't know, and I don't want to face rejection, no matter how minuscule the chances of being rejected really are. I told my dad I would try again, but I don't know when. Everyone says it's better to get it over with, but I just don't believe that.