Thursday, June 7, 2012

big girl problems

Ahh, there's nothing quite so attractive as the sight of someone shoving Vicks Vaporub up their reddened nose with a cotton bud.  It's moments like these you really know you're alive...

I'm in the midst of some 'ugly days' at present.  I usually say I'm having an 'ugly day' when I just feel, regardless of effort or time, that I am intrinsically unattractive that day.  Be it a spot on my face, my hair misbehaving or simply the 'vibe'.  I wonder if everyone has these days?

For me, there's no more sobering a sight than seeing my own ugly rear reflected at me in a target change room. Is that really what people see when they are behind me? Wow I am ghastly. And I wasn't even the one trying anything on. Low blow.

I can't speak for all large/overweight/obese people out there - but for me - I know I'm big, but I never think I'm that big.  The photo is taken from a bad angle, the clothing item didn't suit my shape, sizes are changing, blah, blah, blah... It's only until you catch an unexpected glance in a reflective surface that you realise the scale of yourself - my upper arm really is that big? Is that how much surface of the chair my ass really takes up? It's like normally you look at yourself in bits - like through a peephole or those glasses they use for an eclipse - I'm not usually taking in the whole picture, because deep down, I know, it's not pretty.

This stuff is difficult for me to talk about, because it is so delicate a subject for me.  It is my achilles heel, my glass jaw, my vulnerable weak spot.

There's a joke I've seen that goes something like "I am in shape - round is a shape." That may be true, but hate is hate.

I know we should accept who we are, for what we are - but I cannot.  It's not like I eat healthy and exercise everyday and just happen to look like this because I have big bones.  No, I know that while genetics can bear a little of the blame here, I am ultimately my own keeper in this personal hell.  I hold the keys, I have the way out, but I seem incapable of initiating the escape. Why?

For one, it's not fucking easy - sometimes I naively think it'd be grand if I could make myself vomit.  I'm scared of failing, of falling 'off the wagon' like the million times before.  To an extent, I think I'm scared of being attractive - if men starting paying me attention, I don't know how I would deal with that. Or, maybe, food is one of the only things that makes me happy, and I'm not willing to give it up.  Perhaps it's as simple as that.  Perhaps I don't want another 'problem' that makes me different from everyone else, again.

But when I see myself, really see myself, chocolate is the furthest thing from my mind.

Right now, I think if I could make a deal to never eat chocolate again - and in return wake up to be thin and beautiful, I would do it. How I wish it were easy.  How I wish this self hate, the internal dialogue I have with myself every-single-day would at least contribute to massive calorie burning.  Maybe that would make the chatter worth it.

But, I guess if things were that easy, that if deals could really be made - then hell would likely be full of 'former fatties' and there would be no room for the truly horrible people.

I know I've said it before - ashamedly I say it most Sunday evenings - but I am going to make some changes.  I am going to start with little steps, and hope that with a little practise I can dance the whole routine of self acceptance someday.


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