Fighting Grey
Aug. 12th, 2008 11:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
measured_wordsSome of the August Writing peeps have put me on to a community called ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
the_dead_muse. It gives writing challenges to help people get their muse in gear. One of the challenges that's currently ongoing is called "The Self", about iner turmoil. I haven't decided how thoroughly I'm going to jump in to the community, but it should be interesting to watch, anyway. But this particular challenge inspired me. So this is what came of it! Its short, but I think it gets off what I wanted.
Fighting Grey
Up, down. Repeat, fifteen times. Rest. Then again, and again. Curl, uncurl. The same.
Today I had a small victory. I put my weights up for the second time this month – squats and shoulders.
Today is Tuesday. Tuesdays are for running. Five miles, in the morning – the grey light of dawn is my mirror, but I can’t ever seem to find my sunrise. My mother offered to buy me a treadmill. “No,” I said, “what would ever make me leave the house?” Tuesdays, Thursdays, Sundays – running. My little taste of exhilaration.
I count my calories. It helps me gauge. I need to consume more protein, now. Maybe I should start using supplements. Maybe. Maybe I need to stop myself from indulging on the bad days. Too much cake, too much ice cream. Too many calories. Too much self-loathing. Is there a scale for that? Can it be quantified?
People tell me I am beautiful. You’re in such good shape. You’re so strong. I could never do that, you have such self control. At the gym, men watch me, in my long shorts and ratty t-shirt. Physically, I’m in control. This makes me feel good, almost. But can’t they see I’m ashes on the inside?
the_dead_muse. It gives writing challenges to help people get their muse in gear. One of the challenges that's currently ongoing is called "The Self", about iner turmoil. I haven't decided how thoroughly I'm going to jump in to the community, but it should be interesting to watch, anyway. But this particular challenge inspired me. So this is what came of it! Its short, but I think it gets off what I wanted.Fighting Grey
Up, down. Repeat, fifteen times. Rest. Then again, and again. Curl, uncurl. The same.
Today I had a small victory. I put my weights up for the second time this month – squats and shoulders.
Today is Tuesday. Tuesdays are for running. Five miles, in the morning – the grey light of dawn is my mirror, but I can’t ever seem to find my sunrise. My mother offered to buy me a treadmill. “No,” I said, “what would ever make me leave the house?” Tuesdays, Thursdays, Sundays – running. My little taste of exhilaration.
I count my calories. It helps me gauge. I need to consume more protein, now. Maybe I should start using supplements. Maybe. Maybe I need to stop myself from indulging on the bad days. Too much cake, too much ice cream. Too many calories. Too much self-loathing. Is there a scale for that? Can it be quantified?
People tell me I am beautiful. You’re in such good shape. You’re so strong. I could never do that, you have such self control. At the gym, men watch me, in my long shorts and ratty t-shirt. Physically, I’m in control. This makes me feel good, almost. But can’t they see I’m ashes on the inside?
