Last week I had the most uncomfortable day of my life. It was just a regular work day, I had a full schedule with two meetings and one presentation that I had to attend, something I had done a million times before, but this day was different.
I have never felt so aware of my body, of my size, of the amount of space I actually occupy. All day I could only think of how far my belly extended past my bust, and how I couldn't cross my legs high enough to hide it. I ended up sitting uncomfortably with my ankles crossed, my clipboard strategically placed over my stomach, breaking into a cold sweat while trying desperately not to think of the fact that I was easily the heaviest person in the room. I felt like I was a blushing, sweating blimp with five hundred chins and everyone was staring. It was horrible, mortifying and unforgettable.
(Here comes the over share for those who would rather skip it.) That night I did something when I got home that I had never done before, or at least I hadn't done since I was 12 and coming into my sexuality. I stood, naked in front of the mirror and studied myself.
For as long as I can remember I have bounced around between 220 and 250lbs, the only real difference I noticed was in the fullness of my cheeks and the fit of my jeans. Overall with every 5 or 10 pound drop or gain my body stayed relatively the same, I had the same rolls, the same stretch marks, the same cup size. Now I have gained somewhere around 30lbs, in the last 3-4months due to my compulsive overeating and depression. I tipped the scales at the begining of this Dietbet at 288.6lbs. While the number was shocking, it wasn't until I stood in front of the full-body mirror last week that I really realized the effect it had on me.
Terrifying realities are becoming apparent to me, like how I buldge out of everything I own. My bra cuts my breasts into fours, I have a consant rim over my size 18 jeans, my sweaters pull tight across my arms and up short over my belly. All of these new terrible developments chip slowly away at my confidence, inviting in anxiety and depression, but that mirror- bless that mirror. Seeing how new white stretch marks spiderweb their way across my upper arms, the cellulite finally happening in my things dimples almost all the way up to my lower back. (Another over share.) My ass, I have always been happy with my bum, never perfect but not droopy or cupcake shaped now took on the shape of a poochy arrow. Yuck. Looking back I don't know why I put myself through such scrutiny, but I am so happy I did. Looking at my body, really looking, and seeing how it has changed and how I have changed it has given me the gift of determination.
That night, after putting on my pajamas, I joined a gym and vowed to reach the cause of all of this, because I know myself well enough to know if I don't work through that initial issue, I will never fully heal and be the healthy, happy person I have always wanted to be.
So I have done some real reflection in the last couple of weeks. Having been through therapy before I tried to apply the tools my doctor had taught me to my current situation, and asked myself four questions:
-When do I remember being the happiest I have ever been?
-What made me so happy then?
-What made me unhappy then?
-What are the differences between then and now?
These answers are incredibly personal, and so I won't share them here (I know- NOW I'm bashful?) but I will share the results.
I have returned to plant-based diet, or am currently weening myself off of animal products and processed foods. It will be an uphill battle, what wih living in a food desert and living off of EBT alone but I'm in a more positive mind-set than I have been in months and besides- a little incline is good for me. :)