"I'll do what I can..."

"...nothing more, nothing less."

It's a mantra my therapist has me repeat as a means to avoid anxiety attacks and counter perfectionism.

I'm not sure it is helping - but then again I know she didn't mean for me to apply it to food intake, either.

So, did I do well today, did I do everything I could?

I ate some stuff, namely 160 g of soy based yogurt (57 cal/100g, which means 91.2 cals), half a banana (medium size, so let's say 50 for half of it), a 10-cal cup of broth I drank in the morning, half a grapefruit at maximum 50 cals; for lunch I went out to have sushi with a friend, so I had a miso soup plus an avocado and a shinko maki roll.
(Taking into account the differing numbers you find on the calorie content of sushi, I estimate I come in at somewhere around 600 cals total for the day, perhaps even below.)

All in all, that adds up to considerably more than I wanted to eat in an ideal scenario; but on the other hand it seems pretty reasonable for a "first day back" to restricting, and is definitely better than the fiasco I have indulged in lately.
Still, I just don't know what to think.

I feel low.
No, that's not right - I don't feel either or, really.
Mainly, I feel disgusted with my body, despite doing relatively well today where food is concerned.

I have that kind of feeling where you want to peel off your own skin so badly, shed it like a reptile, that you have to restrain yourself hard not to take a kitchen knife and cut it open from top to bottom so you can wriggle out of it.

In positive news, I like the fact that spring is beginning - the first sightings of crocuses (crocus? croci?) and lilies of the valley, the re-awakening of the world, the metaphorical rebirth of life and all that sappy crap.
I'm just very fond of this season, whenever I step outside it elevates my mood by a tiny fraction.

I hope, if you are reading this, that spring has set on wherever you live, too, and that it is bringing you some amount of pleasure.

Ineffectual Musings

Perfection... I've always been obsessed with that little world, and I know I am far far from alone in that.

It is often curious to me why human beings work the way we do, and why that little word holds so much power over us.

How it is that the concept of perfection can motivate us so much, elevate us, crush us, excite us.

How the thought, that every little part, every centimeter of our bodies, minds, even souls could be perfect, seems so liberating and promising, and daunting all at once.

Still, it is all that sustains me often.

My life is far from perfect right now.
My flat isn't perfect - it's a bloody mess.
My mind isn't perfect - it is equally messed up.
My "career prospects" aren't perfect - I am letting it all go to hell, and I'm not even sure I have chosen the right direction with what I'm doing at uni.
My "love life" isn't perfect - I am still painfully in love with a boy who doesn't even deserve it, King of Cowards that he is.

And finally, my body isn't perfect - it is farther from perfection than it ever was.

I dare not even step on the scales at this moment, but I reckon (and I am an unfortunately gifted soothsayer in that regard) it might be as high as 60kg, 132 lbs, a BMI of a square and scary 20 (defined, of course, as perfectly "normal and healthy for your age". Blech. Whoever comes up with these definitions obviously hasn't seen the state of my thighs. Or my behind for that matter.).

60kg would be the absolute highest I have weighed since the day I was born, and I swear I'm going to die if it goes any higher than this right now.
I need to regain control but I am struggling, pitifully, to rediscover any fragment of my former strength, any semblance of my old composure.

And yet, amidst all this chaos, I hope and dream of a state where perfection can be attained.
No matter how unrealistic it may seem - if I didn't cling to the abstract hope that perfection was possible, I would have thrown in the towel on life long ago.

It is all that keeps me from giving up when submerged in the darkest, dankest recesses of my personal Void... the possibility of perfection.

PS: re: first picture - that sunrise, on that day, was perfection to me.
Nothing quite like watching the sun rise from aboard a boat...

The girl below, of course, displays a different form of perfection. And yet she seems so forlorn - the atmosphere in that image is pretty much how I'm feeling right now, so I like it.