November Eighth

Going Home

Well, I woke up on time again today.

At this time this evening I will be on a plane flying West. I'm going home.

There was a lot of excitement about being in Arizona again. I haven't been in my stomping ground in over two years. I'm going to be staying with a dear friend I haven't seen since I moved back to Maryland over four years ago. Going to her hippie wedding reception because her and her husband got married in the court house a couple weeks ago. Seeing my mentor-turned-into-a-friend and spending time with her children.

Just for a weekend. Just long enough to breathe in the Arizona sunshine and remember the desert floor.

This has been a hard week. I can still cry on cue about all that Sunday represents and last night I gained a little more insight (and a little more weight, apparently) on why I might be having body image issues.

The last time I was on a plane flying home was when I was going there to be at my step-father's death bed; I went home to say goodbye; I returned to Maryland with my step-father's ashes as a fellow passenger.

He is one of the reasons I think my thighs are wide and my butt is huge. His comments are part of the reason I don't want to have a chest, I don't want to have womanly curves, and I don't want to be seen as sexy. I'm still waiting for his intended promise that when I turn 18 he will sell me to playboy.

He sexualized me at a young age and then started calling me fat when I went into puberty, a time when my body was changing and I was already insecure. He never followed through on his promise before he died and the little voice in my head that is my eating disorder says it's because he stopped seeing me as beautiful when I started gaining weight.

Well, that's enough for today's SAD lamp confessions. Till tomorrow