In your normal day to day mind, do you think of yourself as
the age you are?
In my mind, I’m still in my twenties. When I walk past a mirror or catch a glimpse
of myself in a reflection, it literally takes my breath away. I don’t mean in a good way. I mean in a
what-the-hell-are-you-thinking-you-fat-cow kinda way. There are rare occasions when I actually
involve myself in a conversation with someone and I start to become animated. Like my old self. There are times I’ll walk through a crowd of
people and say my hellos, laugh and enjoy myself until I see my reflection in
someone’s sunglasses or come across a mirror, etc. Even sitting here typing this. I’m sitting in a room with full sunlight and
I can see the glare of myself in the background of the screen. I’m careful to keep my head up but not for the
reason you think. I don’t mean that
metaphorically. If I hold my head down
to read or get on the computer, the jowls grow bigger and the skin steps to my
mouth appear. Rather, appear larger than
they already are. At a recent marriage conference Josh and I attended, a lady came up to our table to take our picture. Josh immediately told her that I didn't do pictures. She insisted, took the pic and walked away. Of course, I instantly started crying as the service was about to start. With Josh's help, I quickly pulled myself together so no one would see the tears. Friends and family members all know that I don't do pictures. While it may be a game to them, to me it's gut wrenching. It turns a normal get together into an event I calculate a way out of. At this point in my life, I H A T E having my picture taken, and I do not use that word lightly.
Deep down inside me, I KNOW there’s a fighter. I’ve seen her kick butt before. Where is she now? WHERE ARE YOU?!?!?!?!!? Sometimes,
I am absolutely floored at how different I am compared to my 20 year old
self. I know our bodies change. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about me, in general. I wonder how Josh and the kids have put up
with me for so long. I can’t stand
myself, how can they? I’m gross. I’m rude.
I’m mean. I’m irritable…….and that’s
on a good day. I literally feel like Mrs. Trunchbull. I, in no way, want to diminish others, but I
feel like an addict. I am addicted to
food. It pisses me off to no end that I’ve
allowed this to control my life.
I see people with half eaten plates of food and I don’t
understand. How do you pass on cake? Ice
cream? Candy? How do you drink water all day every day and feel satisfied? How is it possible to show (any) restraint
when it comes to food? If I told you
what I consume each day, honestly, it would floor you and embarrass me. No diet, lifestyle change, exercise or weight
loss product will do any good until I get my head right.
As I sat here typing this, I got a text from one of my
biggest supporters. She hasn’t given up
on me.
I’ve given up on me, but she hasn’t.
Crazy isn’t it? She reiterates
that none of this is an easy fix and that it takes hard work and
dedication. I used to know what that
meant. I don’t anymore.
I take that back. I KNOW what it means. I just can’t seem to execute it. If I were counseling someone like me, I would
be so frustrated. I watch “My 600 lb.
Life” in utter disgust. In reality, I
could very well be on that show one day.
I have the same mentality as many of them. I listen to their excuses and am both
convicted and critical of them. God,
please save me from this craziness!!!
Don’t take this as me wanting your pity. Ì don’t.
Typing this out somehow makes it more real. I can’t wait for the day when I snap out of
this and get on with living my life instead of……well, ending up on a
weight-based reality show.
Today wasn’t the day.
Wonder what tomorrow's blank page will say.
Just bein' real, folks. Just bein' real.
Just bein' real, folks. Just bein' real.
