Wait Another Year

Expectation.

Ever since I found out about the 2018 Olympics, the burden on my back has been so heavy that I can almost feel it when I walk.

So much is expected of me. I’m still just a kid. 

What if I don’t want to keep going until 2018? What if I get injured? What if I can’t afford to  continue?

I shouldn’t have to think about all of this when the games aren’t for another 6 seasons, but if I’m going to try to get a spot on that team, I have to start now.

There’s so many levels I need to test, so many competitions I need to medal at. So many pieces of music I have to pick and so many costumes I have to design.

I don’t even have a coach. If I’m going to the games, I need triple axel and quads by 2015.

That’s barely 3 seasons away…

I’m sick to my stomach.

And say I get really good. Say I have a few National titles under my belt by the time the 2018 season comes around. What if I don’t make the team? Does that make this whole comeback a waste? 

I don’t even know if my rink will be around next year, let alone in 2018.

I’ll have to move, find a coach, earn a following, and then be flawless in the 2017-2018 season. 

This is literally way too much for me to deal with right now and I kinda just wanna curl up in a ball and cry.

But if I’m going to be an olympian, I don’t even have time to cry.

#panic

Sometimes,

I remember what life was like when I stopped eating. I remember how I looked, how I felt. How miserably unbearable every day was. How I would cry in front of the mirror because no matter what I did I couldn’t be perfect. How everyday for almost two months I would have only hot tea, chewing gum, and caffeine tablets.

But then there is also the devil on my shoulder whispering to me. Reminding me how great it felt when people had noticed I was thinner. How it felt buying new clothes because I dropped four inches. How with my new body I was finally confident enough to date someone. Buying medium shirts instead of extra large. Going to the beach and not being afraid to take off my shirt.

I hate my body. I can never win. I work out every day. I eat right. I run, I skate, I lift, but yet the only thing that’s ever proved to work for me is not eating anything at all. 

Sometimes I think I could endure all that misery again. I know it’s not right, but I also know it works. I hate myself for even thinking about this.

I would give anything to be happy with myself.

Sometimes, I wonder what ‘anything’ actually entails…

But only sometimes.

Anonymous asked: what are you waiting another year for?

Nothing now actually. It’s from an Amanda Palmer song. The line goes ‘I think I’ll wait another year.’ When I made my Tumblr I had just broken my arm and had to drop out of the 2012 competitive season; I had to wait another year. But now I’m back to training for 2013 so maybe I should change it…