My previous post stated that I would be blogging more regularly. I have had plenty of ideas of what I would like to write about, however, I’m not sure if I’m quite ready to share the worst parts of having Body Dysmorphia.
I have had some members of my family reach out to me about my posts and they have been so supportive. But at the same time it is terrifying. Part of my disorder is obsessing about appearing as perfect and as normal as possible. I started this blog with only my husband knowing about it. Then, I had a moment of braveness and shared it with my sister. It felt nice to share and talk about some things with her. So, I got a little more courage and shared my blog with more of my family. I wasn’t thinking that they would actually take the time to read it. I was wrong. They are too kind and supportive to ignore what I have expressed.
I wanted to write and be anonymous about my mental issues. I wanted to blog and maybe connect with other people. But I wanted to connect with people I didn’t know personally. I did not want to have to face the reality of my truth. I still wanted to keep it all inside.
I’ve spent the majority of my life pretending everything was fine because I was in control. I have only shared bits of my history with my family, only enough to seem like I was still managing things. And here I am, starting at the beginning, telling all the things I have kept to myself my entire life.
I’m losing the control that I thought was protecting me. But the truth is I didn’t want to feel accountability for the things I had done. I didn’t want to tell my friends and family that I had messed up over and over again. I didn’t want people to think I was seeking attention or that I was ‘the problem child.’ Unfortunately, because I was so desperate to appear perfect I kept everything inside. Everything was a secret and it was eating me alive.
I still have my secrets, the things I keep inside. But I can’t do it anymore. I have caused myself countless problems by being in control. I have to be stronger. I need people in my real life to know, so that I don’t have the option of keeping it inside. I need to be responsible and called out when I slip up.
I can no longer let my disorder rule over me.