I have gained a few lbs. I will always have food and body image demons.
Here’s the thing..It’s not about narcissism..I honestly don’t give two shits about what you think of my body. It’s about control, and as a mom of two growing kids in a society where “what’s up is down” with every new food and medical break-through, it’s a “cotter-jammed” miracle my head hasn’t spontaneously combusted at the market. Yes , I said cotter-jammed.
When I was anorexic, I knew I looked like a scary-zombie-Batshit-crazy person. It had nothing to do with my appearance , and everything to do with being in control because if I could make that number on the scale go down, anything was worth that 33 second blip of relief, even if it was encapsulated in “Shit, Im on the crazy train now!”.
As a mom, control over my weight has everything to do with the anxiety I feel for NOT having control over the painful obstacles my kids may face in society. I know shielding them from all pain is nonsensical and counter productive, but it is NOT counter-intuitive.
It’s in my genetic-mom- makeup to hold on until deeper wrinkles set into my “OMG AM I DOING THIS RIGHT?” face. It’s in my gut to worry about whether or not some bully may crush their spirit at any given time. It’s par for the course , to wish we could just skip middle school because of all the horror stories unleashed into the cyber atmosphere.
I know it’s counter-productive to obsess over weight as a means to control life. I know this at so many levels I can’t express in words. I know it’s a combination of my ADHD that causes me panic because I absorb every health and fitness article as a criticism towards my own perceived body inadequacies. I don’t know, why some days , it’s not even a blip on the radar, and other days , I move my scale all around the house until I receive an acceptable number. I do know that if I write “it” out, I can level my brain to move forward , lighten the eff up, and focus on what really matters…”What’s for lunch today? “
This blog is like the ridiculous sweater I bought at Anthropologie a few years ago. It was on sale and the sales lady told me "it looks awesome on you." It's the most bizarre sweater, and whether it looked good on me or not, is highly debatable. Like these blogs, I look at them at say "Yeesh, what was I thinking,," or laugh or bath in their cathartic qualities. The sweater stays for the same reasons.