Images can be powerful. Extremely powerful. Sometimes the power is great but unfortunately, not always. The way I see things, actually the way I see one thing, is distorted. And try as I might to view it correctly, I can't. This has lead to numerous meltdowns.
No matter what size I am when I look at myself in the mirror or in a photograph, I see myself as morbidly obese. That is stage one of the meltdown. And then starts the pity party with thoughts of "I'm so fat and ugly, no wonder I have no friends or dates," and "I'm too fat and ugly to be successful. I'll always be a failure."
I know. It's crazy thinking and I know those things aren't true. I would never and will never classify myself as beautiful but I don't think I'm atrocious looking. Just average. A plain Jane. It's all good. But back to this weight issue.
I was a chubby kid. I have memories branded in my mind of my schoolmates mocking me, laughing at me and tormenting me. One kid preferred to use names with lard in it instead of my name. Awesome, no? I've worked hard though. The diabetes helps me stay on a healthy diet. I rarely go out to eat and maybe only a handful of times eat fast food because I'm traveling and its the only options. I do my best to work out as well. I'm very careful in regards to losing and maintaining weight because a family member has an eating disorder. I don't want to go down that road. I've learned from their experiences.
In 2012 though, I got sick. Really sick. I spent a week in the hospital from seizures (and doctors are still unsure why I had them). The medicine I was placed on did bad things. It killed off my appetite, made me constantly sleepy, irritable and emotional. It was scary. At one point I was under 90 pounds with my hip bones sticking out and the rib cage starting to poke out. Not good people. Not good at all. And yet, part of me liked how I looked. Guys at the swimming pool were flirting with me, hitting on me. I liked it. But lets be honest, it wasn't a good thing. After ending up in the hospital again for another week, they switched my medicine and praise the Lord, my appetite came back. In an effort to gain weight back, my good, healthy eating habits went out the door.
It is now the end of 2013 and I'm no longer my small size 2 I prefer. I doubt I will ever go back to a size 00 and I'm not sure I would want to. But I'm not close to a 2 anymore either. And this has me traumatized. People say I look okay but I look at myself and cry. I find myself disgusting. I want to avoid all human interaction because, in my mind, I'm not pretty enough. What is frustrating is how I know I'm not disgusting or obese. I know that for my frame I should lose a little weight but I'm in no danger zone.
It is fascinating the power a distorted image can have on yourself.
I'm not sure why I decided to blog about this today. Maybe because everyone starts New Year's resolutions tomorrow. Maybe because when I tried on clothes I received for Christmas and they didn't fit I had a complete meltdown. Maybe because it just sometimes helps to get something out instead of talking about it to yourself. I have no idea. What I do know is that despite what my eyes see, I'm not ugly or too fat or so atrocious I'll send kids running away from me in fear. In that sense, life is all good.
Thanks for letting me ramble. And most importantly -- HAPPY NEW YEAR!