Here we go again. Except this time, now, it's different.

I was down to 253- a significant achievement, for me. Then all the stress of the workplace took its toll and then something snapped inside of me and I started thinking I deserved more food again- because, after all, I was going through a tough time, then I was in transition, then I was in yet another crappy job and it just seemed logical that I would take a little extra, have a little more to get through.

But now, things are okay. More than okay. We're buying a house. Kevin and I will actually live in a house- sure it's not perfection (it was almost HALF A MILLION DOLLARS but the real estate market here is nuts). But it's a house. My house. Our house. And it's adorable and so perfect in so many ways.

I have wanted a house for so, so long. Since I was kid I wanted a house, a nice, middle class-ish house that didn't have embarassing details like a water sodden kitchen cieling that was about to burst. I wanted a tidy place that was snug and had lots of little details that made it special. And now, I have that. And for some reason it's sending me running to the kitchen every five minutes. It's making me feel dizzy and confused in ways I don't understand.

I know that I want the house.

And I know that I like the house. But I'm afraid to say I love it because.... Hmm, because why? Because part of me thinks I don't deserve the house. That I just kind of lucked out. My logical side says sweetie, you live in a crazy market and you still are getting a house because you have, on paper anyway, a good job for around here, luck has nothing to do with it. But I can't shake this feeling that I'm a fraud and don't deserve to live in such a nice, tidy place... that it's really mine. (and ING's). Kev's parents were a nightmare about it and I felt as if I derserved to be treated like that, while simultaneously wanting to slap his father in the face, hard.

But it's not just me. Kev has been all turned around, too. He's been just as bad as me with wanting food and when one of us works late or even looks like they might be tempted to eat something in large qunatities the other one of us jumps at the chance.

We both just feel hugely ambivilent. He's been running a lot so of course, it doesn't show on his body, but I have gained 15 pounds, so I'm not only hugely ambivelent, I'm just huger than I've been in a long time. And I don't like that.

And there's the work life balance sitch. I took this job so that I wouldn't be busting my ass after 4:30 pm. And right now, I have been getting home on time most days. But this is a recognizable lull. I know it will start to suck again any day now. Though I don't want it too.

I was at a freinds' last night and I was conveying all of this and she said: You have to take care of yourself, no one else is going to do it for you. It's not exactly news, but somehow I found it comforting coming from her. As if she was giving me permission, the permission I have desperately needed, to take care of myself again. To feel like I should take care of myself again.

And I think that lack of wanting to take care of myself, or feeling safe taking care of myself stems from the whole maggot situation.

I had finally lost a lot of weight and although I still remained very fat by societys standards I had accomplished something I never thought I was capable of- in a very healthy, safe way. And I was ecstatic with all the new clothes and newness of how much everything was different, and yet the same... but better. I walked faster, I could see the contours of my face, I felt like I was more a part of the world, I could try on jeans at Old Navy.

And that confidence was alluring to maggot and he sensed my readiness to embrace my looks and so he complimented me. And for me, that combined with his subsequent behaviour is enough to make me feel uncomfortable with body all over again. To somehow blame it for getting me noticed.

I remember in years past when I wrote in my journal I always said I hated being noticed (but I love being noticed for my perosnality). And he noticed me. Not a lot but it was enough to make me doubt myself all these months. I always have this fear, because of what happened during childhood that confidence in my body and comfort with myself is a great way to get noticed which in turn is a great way to get violated. And when he did violate my private sphere it just reinforced that belief.

So now I really have to acknowledge that maggot hurt my sense of safety and that it did falter my very new and shaky sense of confidence and comfort in my body. And then combining that with crappy hours and a lack of exercise is just compounding the situation. And frankly, it's justifying my mistreatment of myself: If I deserved to be pampered with exercise and good food at regular intervals than all the elements in my life would line up to allow for that.

And since that's not happening and I keep trying to bring it into focus I feel like I'm in a very begative loop.