On food fairs and freakouts

I was woken up this morning at the crack of dawn (yes, 8 am is the crack of dawn on a Saturday, there are no two ways about it) by Hemingway commenting on and asking me questions about my body, weight and food habits again. Not only does it suck to be woken up early on the weekend when I have time off when I get woken up early weekday when I don't by Hemingway leaving for work, but to get woken up to the constant criticism of my body really makes me sad and upset. It culminated in "Did you even eat when I was in Hong Kong?" at which point I was pissed and yelled "No! Obviously not! And it's way too early in the morning for this shit!" and tried to go back to sleep, which of course failed. It just really wasn't an ideal morning. I was exhausted from everything going on all week, and I'd really looked forward to sleeping in.

Hemingway took me to Taste of Stockholm today, and we had a really great time running around trying lots of different foods, and everything was so much fun. The sun was shining, the food was delicious, and everything was amazing - up until the point where suddenly, the crowds kinda seemed to thicken and close in, and I just didn't want to let anyone touch me. I was filled with all this anxiety, and I really just wanted to go buy a few beers for Sand's farewell get-together and leave. While looking for an open store that sold beer however, suddenly all the crowd anxiety just got even worse, and I felt myself starting to shut down. Eventually I made Hemingway stop and I sat down on a piece of wall just sobbing and freaking out, trying to breathe through the feelings of total shit. Everything was just too much - the lack of sleep, the release of all the tension with my job, the nerves, the crowds, the weight comments... I just couldn't take it, and broke into an internal anxiety attack.

And all through it I just wish I could've gotten like a hug or a pat on the back or something. It's not easy to understand what I want when I shut down I'm sure, but when you're struggling to keep yourself together you feel so alone. Obviously I knew Hemingway was there next to me, but it was like he was just looking at the clock, waiting for my freakout episode to pass. I worked my way through it, but ended up feeling like mostly a nuisance, and I spent the evening at Sand's feeling extremely low and drained. I told her about the anxiety attack on the way there, so she knew about it, but I still felt absolutely terrible about feeling so heavy on her last night in the country.

Now Hemingway's out with his friend at a club and I'm home, having just devoured a pizza while watching America's Next Top Model (no regrets) and thinking about going to bed soon. I still feel really hurt about the constant negativity surrounding my weight, even though I've tried to explain that I'm still within a healthy weight for my height and that I'm not unwell in any way, but I don't know. I don't think he understands how I feel when he keeps bringing it up. For once I'm happy with how I look. Why can't that be enough?