I talked to my mom on the phone today, and she was trying to convince me to find my "happy place." I told her I didn't know where it was. She said I was happy in Anthropology (my favorite clothing store), but I explained that my happiness would quickly be shattered as soon as I tried on clothes. Shopping for shoes is always fun, though, because you don't feel quite as fat...of course, I do usually find my calves to be rather large or if there is a full length mirror then I am quickly traumatized. After some thought, I told my mom that I am usually somewhat happy reading in a small coffee shop. But then she said that she was more talking about a mental "happy place." Oh. Well, I don't have one of those.
It's funny, too, that my mom mentioned how I was never happy unless I was losing weight. You'd think that would be a red flag that there's a problem. I'm never happy unless that number on the scale is going down every day, but even then, am I really happy? I wish she'd understand that, and sometimes I wish she'd try to help me or even get someone else to. I don't think she understands that I've been stuck in this dark place for years and can't seem to crawl my way out. I pretend to be happy when I'm on the phone most of the time, but it's so much energy. I just wish I could be happy...even just for a day.