Came across a journal I used to keep about 7 years ago, when I was at my lowest weight as an adult. Here’s an entry:
“Weighed myself. Lowest ever. I felt kind of numb ~ there was no one at the gym to tell. I think I felt fearful like, wait… I’m this weight and I’m still a loser? Woke up with a swelled lip. Broke out into hives. Had to go to the emergency room. Got a shot and an IV. The whole time I kept thinking, will the Prednisone make me gain weight?”
Never mind the fact I was in anaphylactic shock, and my throat was beginning to close up. (Note: My mom insisted on coming over later that day to see how swelled up my face was. I don’t even think it was out of concern for me, she just wanted to see the freak show that was my face! I wasn’t angry, just a little pissed. Now, it just makes me laugh! Isn’t this behavior against the Mom Code?)
Intriguing ~the things I was feeling, the struggles I was facing…
Honestly, it seems like I was so much more in touch with my feelings then, however the sickness of dieting consumed my every thought and action.
Don’t get me wrong, I still have bad body thoughts. I’d love to be 60 pounds lighter. But, I don’t have that frantic screaming in my head telling me that food is bad, and I am bad as a result of eating it.
I still am challenged with the same things I did 7 years ago… relationships, lack of intimacy, financial responsibility, & organization. However, there isn’t a high piercing scream that absorbs my every waking thought.
Living in the thin fantasy, means you can’t appreciate what is going on in the present. The present is a gift. We must open it up, relish it, and live vibrantly.
A thin fantasy cannot provide that. It keeps you small, quiet, waiting for something you may or may not ever achieve. I remember my ideal size was a 12. And then I got there, and it wasn’t good enough. The ideal size kept getting smaller & smaller. Genetically impossible for me to achieve without having my limbs amputated.
And so many of us face life as an amputee. We live life without parts of us. We exile those parts into hidden places. We have distractors and prison guards to keep them away. But until we can ask these distractors, managers, firefighters to step aside… we stay shielded from our true selves. For our true selves contain all of those scary parts. We listen to them. We ask them to share their stories. And we let them know they don’t need to take over us. That there is a Wise Woman Self inside ready to embrace them.
The fact is, even if I do lose those 60 pounds, I’m still going to struggle. My life won’t be perfect. I still will be easily triggered by people, places, and things.
We can’t change from the outside in, rather inward to the outward. And still, even though I may be at peace with myself, I cannot be certain I will achieve a BMI of 23.
A full life with a full body is much richer than a thin fantasy.
Have you ever lived with a thin fantasy, or even a thin disguise? What did you do to break free?