This week has been busier than normal, and the only time to write is now or never. So I will write, even if I don’t really ‘feel the flow’. Hmmm… let me think:
My weight is finally back down at 195, after the last bad phase. I am impatient to go on, see changes, feel thin (and cold, brrr!) and fit into new clothes. After one of the women from Mandy’s class told me that she thought I’d probably fit into size 46 trousers now, I had to try on a pair this morning. And what can I say, they fit. Well, the waist was much too loose, but they were tight on the hips and thighs. Stupid pear shape. Unfortunately, the seams on jeans are too difficult to alter for my sewing skills and I’m broke anyway, so I didn’t buy them. But size 46! That’s definitely a normal size! And I’m beginning to love my waist, feeling thin when seeing my ribcage protrude as I do cambrés or roll out my back on the foam roller. I like feeling my pelvis and the backs of my thighs, hard bone and muscle instead of squishy fat. That’s a very new feeling for me. Thin people must be really hard to the touch… I want to be one of them.
Last Thursday, June and Mandy and I went to the corner restaurant and had dinner together. It was nice, but Mandy was very tired and we didn’t stay long. I still don’t have June’s number, and I find it weird that she didn’t give it to me when I gave her mine. But as I said, she can be a little strange sometimes. No idea if she likes me enough to want to be friends with me. She never mentions friends, so I assumed she didn’t have many, but I might be wrong. I also don’t know if Mandy really likes me. She’s very nice, but she’s nice to everybody… I mustn’t get too attached to them. Sometimes I think that I’m incredibly naïve. As soon as somebody is nice to me or shows and interest in me or spends some time with me, I become all ‘Ohmygod kindred spirits friends for life blablabla etc.’ and then when I notice that they have other friends or other interests, I’m hurt. That’s just silly of me, but I can’t help it, I’ve always been like this. Maybe it’s the loneliness and lack of experience with human relationships that makes me overreact at times. I’ll learn it one day, I’m just very behind for my age. I’m behind in other areas as well, I just found out today with Mrs. H. Love, of course. Friendship. Detaching from my family. Finding my identity as an adult. This should have taken place during adolescence, but I was too busy being miserable and numbing all thoughts and emotions with lots of food… Well, I can’t change that now, I can only move forward.
I’ve been working hard in ballet, taking – let me count – eight ballet classes since the last blog post. My feet are feeling it, they have been hurting. The new slippers are too tight still, even though I got the same size and width. I used to love getting new slippers, but now it’s just annoying. They are so flattering, though. I have the Bloch Zenith and they are elastic, so they feel more like socks (when they are not squishing all my toes together and digging into the achilles tendon). The old ones have holes that I mended three times already, but they are a little looser because they have been in the washing machine and dryer so often. So yes, tonight is another class with Mandy, then tomorrow I’ll have a rest day and start again with Belinda on Saturday. GFT and semi-private class on Sunday, Franca on Monday, Mandy on Tuesday, Franca on Wednesday, Weight Watchers and Franca on Thursday… I hope I’ll make it, because I will also have to work more for a coworker who is ill.
Last Friday evening, I called home and got Sissy on the phone. Our conversation turned to the situation with Dinah, and my not being able to visit anymore. I felt bad for Sissy, because she can’t do anything and she understands both Dinah’s point of view and my longing for home and Tippy. We were both in tears talking about it. When I hung up, I felt very hopeless that the situation would ever improve. I had been more open about my feelings in this matter the week before, telling my family that I missed going home and felt like an outcast. Now I decided to stop doing that. It doesn’t help anybody, it only makes them sad and puts pressure on Dinah. And it makes my homesickness worse, not better. I’m going to try and accept the fact that I can’t go home anymore and that Dinah will probably always hate me. No idea what we’ll do at Christmas… I hate being the cause of all this trouble. Well, not the cause, but the changes I made have started an avalanche, and nobody knows how to stop it. I can’t do anything about it, I can’t even talk to Dinah. We haven’t seen each other since May, and I’m actually afraid of seeing her again. Well, rather of her seeing me, and of her reaction. But as I said, there is nothing I can do except to bear it and try to forget all the might-have-beens.
I don’t know what else to tell… I’ll be working a little more starting in October, which means I won’t have to give up my crazy ballet schedule and still manage to buy a winter coat. The leaves are beginning to turn yellow and there’s been wind and rain. The heating is finally on in my flat, and thankfully when I have to get up at six, it’s already warm, so getting up in the dark isn’t quite so bad. Also, mood-wise, I’m finally back to feeling completely like myself again. Busy and hopeful and dreamy and passionate, but generally positive. I want it to last. I want to dance and lose weight and be happy and confident.