My Happy Place

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.