My weight has really gotten me down lately. For a number of reasons. None of them are new.
My sister had a baby two weeks ago. At her highest pregnancy weight, she still weighed less than me. Depressing. Even at one of her showers, her grandmother-in-law mistook me for her when I opened the front door. Excuse me? Did I look six months pregnant? God that one affected me. Also, while babysitting some boys I have known for years, it finally happened. I had been expecting it for a while, but it still caught me off guard. The eight year old looked at me and told me that I have a fat butt and a fat belly. He said it twice. He's right. I do. But it is always shocking when someone tells you about it.
You see, I avoid looking in the mirror. You may think I'm exaggerating but I'm not. I do not have a full length mirror. And when getting ready in the morning, I use a mirror only to apply a little makeup- but nothing more. I don't even look in the mirror after finishing up with the hair dryer. Maybe that's why it is sometimes hard to run my fingers through my hair. There is no final check for me as I'm walking out the door. In public restrooms I wash my hands while looking down. No reason to look at my reflection. I think the downfall of all of this is that I have been able to avoid reality. I know I have weight to lose. And I know that I am uncomfortable in my clothing. But it's like sometimes it hits me like a slap in the face. This recent epiphany began with the video from the hospital when my niece was born. I couldn't believe that THAT was me! I just had no idea. That's what I get for not looking in the mirror for so long.
I get asked to go out for drinks pretty often. The problem is that all of my friends are micro-skinny. I love them, but I hate being with them. I always think of that Sesame Street song when I'm with them. "One of these things does not belong, come on, can you tell me which one?" It's me. I don't belong. And I truly hate sitting or standing next to them. That's twice I've said it now. And I always wonder if my hating being with them is returned with their feeling better about themselves when with me. I think about it all of the time.
When in public I'm constantly aware of the people around me. I don't like to be the one ordering the appetizer. I hear a voice in my head saying, "She doesn't need that queso." I don't know if it's me telling myself not to eat it, or if it's what I think others are thinking. Either way, it sucks.
So I continue the struggle. I once begged a doctor friend for a prescription of phen-phen. I swore an oath that I wouldn't sue if anything went wrong. I am definitely willing to risk heart trouble for skinniness. She wouldn't do it. She wouldn't understand though. She's one of the micro-skinnies.
The truth is, though, I don't know where the happiness mark is. My interpretation is a bit skewed. Back when I was 5'9" and 127 pounds I just wanted to be 120. Why couldn't I just hit 120lbs? I was so skinny that my mother thought I must have been snorting cocaine. Seriously. They had all of these interventions with me trying to get me to admit my habit. I had actually never laid eyes on cocaine, or done any drug at all. I just ate two crackers and a slim fast every day and ignored my stomach when it growled constantly. So I was upset all those years ago about not getting down to the nice, even number. But what is the goal I want today? How do I find it, and how do I get there? And why is this so hard?
I don't want to be 120 pounds now. I will never be 120 pounds. I don't want to avoid public places because I am embarrassed about sitting next to my petite friends. I feel like the jolly green giant next to them. I want to be comfortable in my own skin. I want a nice weight that I'm not ashamed to say out loud.
There's a saying I've heard several times. "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels." I repeat that saying in my head over and over again. But somewhere, somehow, it's not sinking in. And it's not like I sit around and eat all day. I barely have time to eat lunch these days. And the truth is that I've lost weight recently. But I have so much more to lose. It's like the beginning of the school year. You feel overwhelmed because you know you have so much work to do. And the battle is mostly uphill. And you're not really sure where or how to start. That's me.
I've gotta tell you, if I hear one more person say to me, "Just eat less and exercise more," I may get physical. Those people are nuts. Without getting all psycho-babble, I don't think my weight is related to hunger. Obviously. This is a habit that I need to rid myself of. But telling me to eat less and exercise more is like telling a meth-head to just not do drugs.
So here's my thinking. If I go public with my struggle, or maybe I should call it my weight goals, then I won't be able to hide it like before. From myself. Because that seems to be the biggest problem of all.
So I am beginning fresh. I have a ten percent goal to reach, and I will let you know when I get there.
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