As promised, I did my one (and only) weekly weigh-in yesterday and here is the journal entry to accompany it:
I find myself anxious about even addressing my feelings around this morning, never mind putting them into words. When I woke up, I knew two things: 1. It's weigh-in day and 2. I need to get changed to meet my running buddy. I wandered to the bathroom where my scale sits as a reminder of my insecurity. Knowing how afraid I was of the feedback, I stepped on before I chickened out.
Some people say that "weight is just a number", but here's the problem: weight is much more than that when it dictates how you feel about yourself. Deriving your self-worth from little digital symbols on a screen may not seem like a logical thing to do, but trust me I've learned to rationalize it. Since I was a kid, being labeled "overweight" has driven me to want to change that number. Not being happy with my body has made me beg for those little symbols to be different.
I have tried every method of asking the scale to change: playing hardball with my body, taking a restorative approach, carefully monitoring, and even throwing caution to the wind at times. I have sought professional advice on the many components of my weight issue from both a nutritionist and a therapist. I thought that maybe using two resources at once would point me to an underlying reason for the problem. To my surprise, this process stirred up emotions that I had learned to deny or even ignore all together. A simplified list of these emotions would look something like: insecurity, fear, anxiety, sadness, helplessness, loneliness...just to name a few. Some of these involve my body and others are much deeper than that.
Although the experience failed to give me the direct answers I was looking for, it has at least helped me to make more sense of the problem. When I'm anxious, I eat; simple as that. Sometimes that anxiety comes from different sources or looks different depending on the situation, but it is all the same. This pattern is not helpful in achieving my ideal body image that I've wanted so bad for so long. It is standing in my way.
Sometimes I feel like I'm standing in a line at the grocery store behind someone who is taking forever: meet Anxiety. This is the only aisle open in the store (trust me I've tried all of the rest without success). Anxiety looks to be about 85 years old and physically crippled. She appears tired as she struggles to unload her cart. For Anxiety, checking out seems like an impossible task.
And then there's me: 21 years old and in good shape. I have an armful of necessities that I hoped to purchase quickly. I have other things to do, but I need these few things so badly that I wait...and wait. I'm starting to get impatient, so I find things to distract myself. In fact, I have read every single health/fitness magazine on the rack. I have perfectly planned the rest of my day, meal-planned for the week, made a workout schedule, picked a yoga class, and even re-read the nutrition information on my items that I hope to eventually purchase.
But instead of paying attention to Anxiety, or even helping her out, I have stood in this line for over 10 years. "10 years?!" you might ask since I'm only 21. Yes, over 10 years. My feet are tired of standing, my arms tired of holding onto the things I want so bad but can't have. My brain hurts from the amount of mental energy I've spent on the simplest, most meaningless things while I wait in this line.
I've waited for long enough. It is time to acknowledge the person ahead of me and help her out. Only then will I be able to have the things I want the most.