Sometimes I have brief moments of clarity, where i think that maybe life is too short to always want to be less. To have less existence. Less of me. Less life. The circles that I spin in, are absurd.

I woke up this morning with the intent of eating minimal calories. 500 was my goal. I had a piece of toast with mustard and turkey on it. It was disgusting. It made me throw up in my mouth a little. Why even eat if you're going to eat gross food? Why not eat things that taste good? And give up on feeling like you've only got self-worth if you're a size 2? I wear a size 6! That's half the average size of most women. This is absurdity!
(I'm drunk.)

Then I had lunch with a friend. We went to the Arcade and had sushi. And it was so delicious, it was the best thing I've eaten in weeks. I had a splendid time, flipping through The Nashville Scene, enjoying her company, enjoying my lunch. Afterwards, she went to get ice cream, I walked the opposite way to take my check to the bank and deposit it.

I could feel my gut expanding as I walked through the alley to the other side of 4th Ave. I could feel my legs touching as I walked, my fingers swelling, my cheeks getting puffy. I could feel my body changing? Because I ate sushi for lunch instead of an apple and diet coke. I felt like I was going to erupt. I wanted to take off, start running, cigarette in my left hand, phone in my right, hoping that if I just run fast enough, or far enough, no one will find me. I wanted to get a head start on the running before anyone realized I was gone. I could get back to my apartment and put on sweatpants and a hoodie because the seams of my jeans are surely about to split. I could get in my bed and pull the covers over my head, I could hide and sleep until the madness ended. Or at least until they realized I wasn't coming back from my lunch break and called my phone, which wouldn't get reception in my apartment and ask "Where are you?"

I wouldn't answer anyway. I'd poke my head out of the blankets, apologize to my phone, and press the ignore button. The same thing I do every time my phone rings. Unless it's one of four people.

I went to H.G. Hill to pick up cat food and rent a movie. I already had a few bottles of wine waiting for me, I love friday nights almost as much as I love sundays. I paced up and down the aisles, eyeing the tortilla chips and salsa. I wanted to get some, I picked up a jar of salsa and walked to the next aisle. I set it down. Circled the store, pretending to look for something else, something very specific, making sure not to make eye contact with an employee who would ask if I Needed Any Help?

I picked up the chips. Walked back to the salsa. Picked up the same jar I'd sat down. I stood there trying to decide if I really wanted to eat them. I knew if I ate them, the sodium content was going to make me retain water, thus making the scale higher in the morning when I would inevitably stand back on top of it. I set down the chips and walk to the other aisle. I haven't made my decision yet. I briefly considering sitting on the floor and crying, but decide that will only make me appear to have lost my mind. I slam the chips and salsa into my basket and walk to the line, justifying eating them for dinner with the assumption that i'll be fat forever anyway, and I might as well stop trying to change it.

I walk outside, turn my ipod back on and make my way home. I texted the brother and told him about my moment of clarity that happened on the bus. I listened to the radio and I looked at the other women on the bus. For a second, I felt every bit of connection that is possible to a group of people, who I don't even know their first names. I realized that every single girl feels the same way at some point in her life. Every girl wants to be less. Wants to be small. Wants to be loved, and cared for, wants to be okay. Every girl tries her hardest to make herself feel good or pretty or beautiful. We all buy into the same lies to some degree, for at least one single moment in our life. And why? For what?

What are we trying to accomplish or prove? What are we trying to change about the world by changing the size dress we wear? or the circumference of our waist and calves? The way the dial spins when you stand on a scale? How are we saving ourselves or anyone else for that matter? Again, all for what? We're trying so hard, as females, to prove ourselves worth something, and in the mean time, the only thing we're doing is focusing solely on our appearance and the world around us is dying and falling to pieces. For nothing. For a smaller number, a thinner arm, a flatter stomach.

This is exhausting. I don't know what to do with myself.