I Can’t.

There are some days when I manage to get by relatively peacefully in terms of disturbing, distracting thoughts.  Today is not one of those days.

I can ignore it and ignore it and ignore it, but the fact is, I am really unhappy with my body right now.  It makes me feel physically sick to look in a mirror.  If I didn’t have to go to work, I probably would never leave my house, because I am so mortified.  I never really looked that small, and now there is just no way for me to escape the fact that I have become exactly what I spent ten years clawing and kicking and screaming to avoid: I am fat.

I went to yoga yesterday for the first time in years.  I like yoga.  I did enjoy it.  But there was an underlying panic in the back of my mind the entire time because I was wearing leggings, in front of other people, and nobody deserves to be subjected to the horrors that are my thighs.

The worst part of this is that it is all self-inflicted.  Yes, I can “blame” my RDs for “making” me gain weight, but the fact is that nobody can make me do anything.  This is all my own doing, so if I’m looking to cast blame on anyone for it, I should look squarely in the mirror.  Though, as previously mentioned, I’m kind of having issues in that department right now…

The only reason I did any of this is because I want to run again.  And when I say “run,” I don’t mean “C25K,” when I am not even running long enough to stop focusing on the fact that I am carrying a disgusting, rapidly increasing mass.  I mean that I would give my eyeteeth to have been able to do the Jerusalem Marathon this year, or even the half.  I mean that I want to be able to roll out of bed in the morning, run six miles, and have it be my easy run of the week.  I mean that I want to run without being afraid that something will break on me.  I mean that I wish I could at least have the chance of being more than just mediocre at something, and not have it snatched out from right under my nose.

I haven’t gotten any of these things.  Thus far, all I’ve gotten is … fat.  And while I don’t know that I can say I hate myself because I am fat, per se, what I can say is that I hate myself because I knew it was happening, I watched it happening, I am still watching it happen, and I’m not doing a damn thing to stop it.

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4 responses to “I Can’t.

  1. I don’t know what to say other than offering sympathy and empathy, because everything you’re describing has been my life for the past year. Thing is, for me at least, once you get back to running, those feelings of self-loathing don’t necessarily go away, particularly when you’re immersed in an enviroment of lean and toned runners, going way faster than you are, and you resent like Hell the fact that their bodies don’t break down and they’re ‘allowed’ to be so thin and get away with it.

    One thiing I have to say though, is that I don’t see you the way you see yourself. I think a lot of people are fat. I think a lot of people at ‘healthy’ weights look fat. If I was to openly say who I thought looked fat on my blog or in real life, I’m fairly certain no-one would want to know me. But never, in any photo of you that I have ever seen, have you ever been anywhere near approaching ‘fat’ in my eyes.

    That is all.

    xxx

  2. I’m sorry BlueEyedHeart that you feel this way. And I am sorry to use this as an opportunity to ‘speak’ to Jessica, but her comments about perceiving people as fat at healthy weights abhors me and terrifies me and yes, I can choose not to read her blog or listen but the ED part of me takes hold of that and runs with it (no pun intended) and it hurts. A lot. And makes achieving a healthy weight seem impossible.

  3. I can honestly say that you really did look really really small. In fact, it was quite scary seeing pictures of you, hun. I highly doubt that you are “fat”. You could not have put that much weight on eating what you’re eating. Have you ever discussed Body Dysmorphic Disorder with a professional? I’m glad you are using running as an incentive to get better but you should do it for more than just that.

    I’m here if you want someone to vent to.
    xxx

  4. *hug* if you want one

    Unless you have doubled your body weight in the two months since I saw you, there is no way on earth that you are fat. However, expecting eating disorders to produce rational thoughts is a bit like waiting for pigs to fly. I don’t mean that in a judgemental “she’s being so silly” sort of way, because I KNOW the thoughts and feelings EDs produce are incredibly intense and convincing regardless of the intelligence of the sufferer. So me telling you that you’re not fat isn’t really going to do a thing to help. Had to do it anyway though 😉

    One thing I can offer is the idea that possessing body fat does not make you actually fat. Women need at least 20% body fat for protection of organs and functioning of reproductive system. Since you’ve only just got your periods back you body fat percentage is probably still pretty low for a woman your age. Even though I didn’t think I was objectively fat, I had big problems trying to adapt to not just being skin and bones. It wasn’t an issue of me thinking that emaciation was more attractive, it was more like anything above emaciation was just too much in a weird, undefinable, almost sensory reaction. Very hard to describe. Anyway, the idea that I did in fact NEED some body fat was a comfort to me, because although my periods are painful as hell for a couple of hours every month, osteoporosis is more painful on a more ongoing basis. I still get a bit wigged out by my body sometimes, but it’s better than osteoporosis. Most things are.

    I don’t even know if any of that will make sense to you or if it’s just a random thing my brain picked up on, lol. Sorry for the waffle. I’m thinking of you anyway ❤

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