December 17, 2010
Trigger warning: Talking about weight loss and cutting. Not actual cutting mind you. It’s more a figurative thing.
I’ve been pretty much hating on myself today. I’ve started to feel like my weight is getting in the way of my life. I suppose a lot of fat people feel that, but I feel like I should be able to accept who I am. Today I haven’t. I’ve felt pretty useless and unhappy and my gut has been the focal point of that.
Now that I understand how weight management works, in that the body does its own weight management, I’ve come to realise a few things. The first is that no matter how much I like my weight, I’m not likely to be getting too much smaller. Secondly is that the reason I am as large as I am now, and not the size I was in my 20s is due to all the dieting I’ve done over the years.
I’ve started to hate myself over dieting that I did over 10 years ago, or even earlier. I’ve come to this point where I figure it’s all my fault that I ended up this way because I tried to force my body to be a weight it didn’t want to be and it fought back by going higher and higher and higher. It has only done what it was designed to do. If I didn’t push the issue then maybe it would have left me where I was.
Then I read about people who have lost so many kilos in so many months and it is as tempting as another piece of pie, or cake, or whatever. “Hell, they did it. I can too.” I still desire thinness. I have to admit that a part of me desires something that I cannot ever have. And it is really hard to tell yourself “No, you know you can’t do it. You know it isn’t healthy to try and do that. Just eat well and be healthy.”
It’s hard to tell yourself that when you have to order your shirts specially made over the Internet. It’s hard to tell yourself that when you can’t walk into a store and get casual clothes – I have three pairs of shorts that I wear on a rotating basis. A few more shirts thankfully but it really isn’t confidence building.
Some times I imagine just grabbing a knife and cutting away my gut. The rest is fine. Just that gut sticking out there for the world to see and me to feel. Thankfully I’m in a space where I know that would be REALLY BLOODY STUPID. But there are times where I just feel like that I should do whatever I can to get rid of it and yet I know it will always be with me.
And I cry and I yell and I scream and I wish and I dream. None of it makes it go away. None of it stops the pain. None of it makes it any easier. Yet I fight on and dream of the day when the fight will be over. I will love myself and I will love my body just as it is and I will be able to get the clothes I want and do the things I want to do and not have to be ‘held back’ by my weight.
This isn’t a cry for weight loss. This is a cry for self acceptance.