Last night I was lying in bed thinking about how much I've changed since I relapsed. What I discovered about myself surprised me.
It's embarassing to admit it, but I used to daydream about walking into a room and making everyone's jaw drop because I was so gorgeous. The imaginary me would make her entrance in her stiletto heels, wearing a little black dress that showed off her killer body. Every hair on her head was perfectly in place. Her makeup made her eyes look smoky and mysterious. She looked like she could do anything and didn't give a damn what anyone else thought about her.
I used to daydream about romance, about finding the right guy. I used to make up different scenerios on how we met and how our relationship progressed. I used to dream of living in Asia and all the adventures I'd have there. I used to daydream about my children's personalities and how I helped them through life and all it's difficulties. I also used to make up worlds that don't exist, where the laws of nature were quite different from Earths.
Somewhere along the line, these past eight months, the me that lived in a world of possibilities died. I saw part of her die when my brother died. I feel she's almost completely gone from me now. It makes me sad. It scares me.
I used to desire men to look at me and think I'm attractive. I don't even slightly desire men to find me attractive anymore. I don't know why, but it frustrates me I don't care anymore. When I try to think about the future and the things I once desired, they're gone. I feel like I have no future. I don't desire anything.
Does that mean I don't desire to live? I was laying in bed last night and felt overwhelmingly scared by this thought. I've become nothing. I'm so scared and I don't know what to do about it.
You know what's funny though? That girl who I wanted to be- I did become her in some ways. I've become quite stylish, my hair and makeup are always complimented on, guys notice me and pursue me, I weigh practically nothing...and I DON'T give a damn. I could honestly care less. Maybe I'm supposed to give a damn. Maybe I'm not supposed to be completely numb to everything around me. I got what I wanted, and it was empty.
Empty. Blank. Unfulfilling. I've learned a lesson, but what do I do now?