49.2kg

This is how I weigh, clothed and having eaten during the day. Naked on an empty stomach, I likely don't weigh much more than 48.5. Considering my height this puts me around a BMI of 18.5, which is... well. It's that close to being underweight. And it's not uncommon for me to dip into being underweight, anyway. I once weighed only 46 as a teen and I occasionally dip to 47. I just become light as a feather, invisible enough that I feel like I'm disappearing, and that I could just go away, behind a curtain. I wish I was saying this in a romantic way. I'm not. 

It's much less of an issue ever since I stopped dissociating as much from my body, but I feel my body looks like a teenage girl's. That I'm just skin and bones, and that I'm just good enough to be thrown around and eventually discarded.

Living off canned food or 300g readymade meals gets tough for me. I get hungry. It's weird because it turns out that when I'm relaxed, I can eat a lot more than when I'm in a situation where I feel watched. Plus, I feel I probably lack protein. There is a small portion of meat in most of the stuff I eat, but between the frequently vegetarian (with eggs or fish) salads of the snack bar, which I love having, and said tiny portions, I feel perhaps I lack protein and this is why I feel more tired than I should after exercise. 

Looking for solutions, I found out peanut butter is a good one. And then I remembered.

Back when things were still good, Hopoe told me she loved bananas with peanut butter. I have never tried that, actually. Thought I would.

During my grocery trip today, during which I got myself a scale as to be able to monitor my weight and see if I'm getting too low, I got myself a pot of unsweetened peanut butter, wholegrain bread slices, and a few bananas. A few more meals. I stocked up a little on chocolate, too. Dark chocolate. Didn't find the pure cocoa ones this time sadly, those are tasty as can be. Of course, the scale didn't come with batteries included so I had to get out of my room one more time to go find some. Not that it was a bad thing. I don't enjoy being stuck inside all day.

Then I did my 'ori tahiti practice. Put on the second video lesson. 'Ami or tumami, which I already knew well, then ruru, then... the godforsaken 'afata and 'otamu. For real. Those two basic steps almost made me cry.

It was halfway through the 'afata that I started hating myself again, feeling like crying, stopping the lesson right there. You basically make sharp movements in the shape of a box. Forward left, backward left, backward right, forward right, or the other way around. 'Otamu is basically the 'afata's hourglass-shaped twin. Forward left, backwards right, forward right, backwards left, or the other way round again.  My lower back worked a little more than usual, but I just felt like I couldn't get it right no matter how much I tried. Maybe I did. Maybe I did better than I thought. But I had trouble finishing that one. Those two just give me trouble. While I do very well on fluid movements like 'ami, varu, and even with the good old fa'arapu... the sharper movements such as ta'iri tamau and 'afata and their variants just don't work as well for me.

And the best thing? I know that if I want to get good, if I ever do, I'll have to practice them more.

It's not about the steps so much though. It's about... how shitty it is to be practicing alone. The profound loneliness. The absence of feedback. Not knowing if you're fucking up big time, if you look absolutely ridiculous and cast shame on the practice itself, or if you're actually not doing so bad. The absence of the to'ere. The absence of the group. My heart is being squeezed as I'm typing this, and I'm tearing up, like I haven't been tearing up easily for the past days anyway, but I wish I had someone to practice with. 

I wish I had a group.

I wish I had someone to see this.

I wish Hopoe would see me, even if a group she isn't part of would work well. 

I wish someone was there

for me. 

To hold me, to tell me, Hi'iaka, you're going to become a good dancer, I'll tell you. You'll progress in no time given how much you're investing, how fired up you are by the sound of the percussions, girl, seriously, that's a good sign, that means you got it in you. You'll be ready for a tamure marathon in no time and smash the fuck out of it. You'll be good, you'll be great, and you'll have earned it with just your iron willpower and your legendary determination. You'll be allowed to be proud of yourself.

But whoever would tell me that is absent from my life, for now. Probably doesn't know I exist. I don't even know where she (because 'ori tahiti teachers are mostly female) is. And if there's even such a person who would tell me that.

I just love being in the group, among the others, asking questions as we practice, commenting on things. I never feel like I'm a bother in those groups. I feel at home.

But as usual, I have to learn by myself. I have to be self-taught. I used to enjoy that, but now I find this depressing. My guitar practice also is self-taught, but I feel so godawful about myself and have no one to practice with, to teach me riffs, tips and tricks, that I haven't played in a while, or only for short whiles. Also, I fear making noise and being a nuisance, because this shit's loud.

I'm tired of having to do everything "by myself". "Take my life into my hands". "Take responsibility". Goddamn how much responsibility did I have on my shoulders from an age I shouldn't have had it anyway?? And how much am I still taking for others because that's how I'm wired??? And you dare say I'm irresponsible or not doing enough or that I am not making enough effort? 

My professional advisor said I had to start applying for jobs... and honestly I'm just. She did say it will appear a bit premature and rushed to me, but that in case I don't get an affectation, I have to be "back at work". I'm just. I can't ever rest, can I? She knows it. She says, yeah, when you're only a contractual employee you can never quite settle, but you have to do it. 

For real. I spent seven years being a NEET, and the burnout gets back quick. I don't get burned out by work, it's not holding down a job that is a problem. If anything it gives me a place to go, people to see, things to stimulate this chronically under-stimulated brain of mine. I get burned out by people's expectations. Their demands. 

I don't know if that's what they call "pathological demand avoidance" or whatever, since it's not really about ALL demands, but the minute someone expects something of me I just freeze, I want to cry, I already think I'm going to disappoint and I want to disappear. Because that's what I always was, a disappointment. I was a wonderful child and then I became a disappointment. When I couldn't carry on with my own shit and at the same time be a good student, that's when I lost my worth.

And that's when people started shitting me for not caring about my future, I guess. And I have to force myself to look for jobs. To put myself through the wringer. I barely feel worthy of a job and I expect rejection at every turn because that was all I was getting when I started out at 18 trying to land a student job. 

I'm so exhausted, I'm exhausted, I'm sick of everything... I want out of here. Or no. I want it to be Monday and that I go back to work and I put myself in those folders and I don't have to think and also I want it to be a dance workshop and I want to be among others, and to feel the group, and not be so lonely anymore. 

I'm a fucking terrible person.