This is my body.

So, I touched on the topic of my weight a few blog posts back. It was somewhat weird to write about. Mostly because I don't like talking about my weight. It is a part of who I am, and I am not ashamed, but I still don't like talking about it.

Mostly because I feel like a hypocrite.

I love my body, but I used to have an eating disorder.

It's something I've never talked about. Never fully. I've never sat down with anyone and explained it all. I was asked a question on formspring [link goes to my tumblr answer] about the kindest thing someone has done for me. I wanted to answer truthfully, which brought up a SMALL slice of my eating disorder pie.

I talked about losing weight about a month or so ago. My Daddy for some reason remembered that yesterday and asked me to keep a food journal because it'll help monitor what I eat and help me know what I can improve. I agree, it can... but... It is also a trigger for me. I have never talked about my eating disorder with him. Never. I made mention once or twice in passing, but I don't think he knew how serious it was. Most people don't because I'm still curvy. Most people only think that the emaciated girls are the ones with eating disorders.

I don't know how to bring it up to him...

I don't know how to tell him that what he is trying to do to help will drive me back to bad habits. It is about the time for me to...

You see, since seventh grade, I've always gone on a 2-3 month bulimia kick. There was a period my freshman year that lasted about 6 months, but I usually only do it for 2-3. Every single year. I'd skip breakfast, eat lunch 3-4 times a week and purge after, eat dinner when I had to and take a shower after to purge. That was my habit. It is comforting.

I've had people who encouraged it. I would be on the phone and one of my friends would ask me to purge on the phone. I would take a spoon [my fingers rarely do it for me any more] and gag until I would throw up. Some friend...

I had people who saved me from it. Like in the kindness post, I had Alex. Freshman year, the hardest year for me to quit, one of my best friends was a great help when I did finally stop. Sophomore year and Junior year were easy years to stop. No help needed. My senior year my friends with benefits stopped me. I didn't need to be stopped yet, I had only been at it for a little less than two months. I could have stopped by myself but he found out and cared for me, so stopped me. I promised him that I would never make myself do that again.

I haven't from that day. I don't know why that promise meant so much to me. Maybe I figure that I am too old for that shit. I want to be done with it.

One thing that I was always active in, was thinspiration. Which is pictures of skinny girls to motivate. I had pictures, quotes, and... a food journal. I had this pretty notebook, green and blue, that I glued the pictures. The quotes were colorful. It consumed my time so I didn't eat. That food journal was an integral part of my disorder. Now, being told to record my intake again makes me automatically sick. It brings back memories of the porcelain throne that I worshiped at.

I don't know how to tell him. I don't want to go into the details of that part of my past. I want him to think of me as the strong confident girl that I am, not a weak self conscious girl that I used to be. I don't know what to do. This isn't everything even, it goes deeper. There is more that I just put away and don't talk about. It doesn't need to be talked about, it's not who I am. But, being made to keep a food journal makes certain things from the past leak into the present... I don't know what to do...