Some days I look in the mirror and think:
“I’m not that far away from where I want to be. A little hard work will get me there.”
I actually feel positive about how my weight loss is going, I feel like it really won’t be all that hard to get where I want to be, I feel like this is a do-able thing.
Other days I look in the mirror and think:
“I am so fat. This is hopeless. I’ll never be anything other than this, a fat, useless, disgusting person who can’t manage to find enough willpower to change how she looks. I might as well give up because I’m never going to reach my goal.”
I drive myself a little nuts with this whole flip flopping of opinion. How do I know which one is right? Which one I should believe? Maybe a little of both, maybe neither, I dunno…
Because of how drastic my two opinions of my body are I don’t trust either. I mean yes, I know I am fat, I know I need to lose weight, I know I am nowhere near my goal, that is all fact. But, the hope or the hopelessness, that’s what I don’t know about. Should I feel hope? Should I feel like I can get to where I want to be, that I can get myself looking the way I want, that I can succeed? Or should I give up, should I become hopeless, should I realize the futility of what I am trying to do and quit now, save myself the misery of continuously trying and never succeeding?
Obviously I want to feel hopeful because I want to succeed, but I don’t want to be delusional about what is possible, and maybe that is what my hope is, my brain tricking myself about my chances.
As much as it could very possibly suck, I’d rather know the truth than stumble around blind while those around me knew the truth and didn’t share it.
But how do you ask your friends or family if trying to lose weight is a hopeless cause? Even if they think it is, they won’t say that, social norms dictate that they be positive and encouraging and tell you that of course you can succeed…even if you can’t. We all lie to each other so of course we lie to ourselves.
So how do you tell the difference between a friend lying to you because they don’t want to hurt you, and a friend telling the truth and you not believing it because it is what you want to hear so of course that can’t be right.
Oh the ridiculousness of it all, even if I were told that I could succeed I wouldn’t believe it, because it is what I want to hear, so I would think it a lie. Why is hearing what you don’t want to hear, what will hurt you, easier to believe? Why wouldn’t I be more prone to believing the answer I want, the one that would give me hope, rather than the one that would crush my spirit? Do I think I don’t deserve the chance to succeed? Do I, deep down, not really think I could succeed? Do I think my friends are liars and would not tell me the truth?
If I were to dig deep, I suspect it would have something to do with not thinking I am worthy of losing the weight, that I am not important enough, or smart enough, or pretty enough, or good enough of a human being that I should be able to reach my goal. So maybe that’s why I wouldn’t believe someone, if they were to say it, because deep down I know I’m not good enough of a human being to be worthy of losing the weight and looking how I want, and feeling about myself how I want, and showing the world who I truly am.
I lost the weight a couple years ago, I was thin, I was small, I was happy. I worked hard to get there, I worked hard to maintain it. I thought I would never gain it back. Then I started to go more extreme, to the point where friends were no longer saying I looked good, they were saying I looked sick. They no longer liked my cheekbones, they said I was gaunt. My collarbone became something I had to cover up so they wouldn’t criticize how visible it was.
I was so happy, and all they could do was put me down, make me feel small – and not in a good way. Every time we hung out it became a battle, them trying to force more food in to me, me trying to get them to back off. They purposefully started interrupting my workout schedule. I didn’t realize at first, I just thought people wanted to hang out more but it turned out they did it on purpose, so that I couldn’t work out as often as I had been, so when they did manage to get me to eat more than I should have I couldn’t burn it off same day.
When I realized they sabotaged me, sabotaged my happiness I was furious, how dare they do that, how dare they ignore that I was happy with how I looked. It didn’t matter that I was furious though, the damage was done. I went from one extreme to another, I started to binge eat. It didn’t help I was going through a shitty break-up at the time and food helped comfort me. Instead of going to the gym when I felt bad I’d eat something. Instead of going to the gym when I was bored I’d go to dinner with a friend. All my good eating habits were out the window, as was my work-out routine. I had to move so I lost my gym and I lost myself.
For a while I didn’t notice the weight I put on, I was eating, and not working out, and I was still thin. Because of this I didn’t get scared by the food as quickly as I should have, the weight crept on gradually but to me if felt like I blinked and it appeared, one day when I looked in the mirror I realized I had gotten fat, it took under a year to destroy what I had managed to accomplish.
If I lost what I had so easily, do I deserve a chance to have it again? Maybe I don’t. Maybe I had my opportunity as a skinny girl and I squandered it. Maybe having it, then losing it, makes it harder to get back again because I am still lost within myself. I can still remember what it felt like to be skinny, to look good, to see my hip bones stick out, to have guys flirt with me all the time, to know that no matter what I wore I would look good. But I remember that feeling, then I look in the mirror and see how gross I have become, and I can’t handle it. I can’t handle what I did to myself, how I let myself go. My habits now are to turn to food and tv to comfort myself. I can’t seem to get back in the groove of using the gym as my comfort. I don’t like my new gym, I don’t like the people, the lay out, the way I feel when there. I feel weak, and gross, and stupid. At my old gym I felt strong, and sure, and proud of how I looked.
Maybe if I can find a way to force myself back in to a work-out routine it will help me feel like I am worthy of losing the weight. Maybe all I need is to push myself, even when I don’t want to push myself, and use the small accomplishments to convince myself I can reach my big goals.
I don’t know.
I just know that today I looked in the mirror and felt helpless, I’ve been sick for almost a week so I’ve done no exercising, and I feel disgusted with myself. I feel that of course I will never get skinny again because I am not worthy of losing the weight and looking how I want. I don’t know how to convince myself I am worthy, or even if I should try…