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Better or just busier?

I just had a little breakdown over my body, the kind that's bad enough to make me cry, but not bad enough to completely incapacitate me.  And when I got up, wiped off my face, and set about bustling to take my mind off my thunder thighs, I realized it had been a pretty long time since I'd cried over my size.

I don't mean that I've been particularly happy with my body lately – on the contrary, I've been far too inactive, physically, and far too lax about snacking and such, and as a result I've been feeling a bit like a blob.  But I've been too busy to dwell on it, really.  I'm working a lot, and thinking about the book process, and trying to be more social and spend more time with my boyfriend (we had a period of not seeing each other much and it was hard on our relationship), and I just haven't had time to indulge my negative thoughts much.  I mean, I've had them, a lot of them, but then something else has come up and I've had to re-focus.

I'm not sure whether this is a good thing or just a thing (I know it's not a bad thing, necessarily).  I'd be inclined to think it's a good thing, except that being too busy to think about my body is not the same thing as getting over my issues and learning to focus on health instead of size and be comfortable with who I am (in a sincere, beyond-the-surface kind of way).  And when I do have a moment to really consider how I feel about my body, I still feel an aching, gaping emptiness at the certainty that I really am bigger than everyone I know, and I really am not normal, still, after all this, and I likely never will be.

But given how crap that feeling is, and how utterly convinced I am that it's correct and I'll never really shake it, maybe it's best I keep distracting myself.  And hey, one day maybe I'll get back into working out regularly and start feeling good about at least a few of my parts.  Until then, I have some eggs to hard-boil and some tidying to do and some work to finish up... 

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