Today I woke up feeling weird. I slept pretty much all day yesterday, so it was a no exercise day. I hurt so badly I could barely stretch my arms out straight. My night was full of strange dreams. I dreamed about when Dawn, Melanie and I first met. Years ago, we were all 3 well over 300lbs I think and couldn’t walk very far at all. For some reason I remember that day most vividly like it was yesterday. We took a picture in front of a construction site. I dreamed about sitting in my car eating alone. That still happens but the difference is before I was eating in hiding, afraid to let people see me eat because they would think what a pig. I dreamed about what my life would be like if I was at goal weight. Would things be different for me? In my dreams they would be. Men would look at me with desire (which ironically would piss me off because I don’t want to be wanted for only my body) Lord I’m fat and Crazy!! Lol It’s funny because the reason for killing myself seems to be because they “say” I’d be more socially accepted, healthier etc:. That may be so, but somehow losing all this weight and then becoming accepted makes being fat all the worse.
Let me explain. It’s like this. When you’re fat, you know people look at you differently, even though they say they don’t. They tell you have a pretty face or all these other things and you know theyre just trying to be nice but a teeny tiny part of you wants to believe it. So you latch onto it. Without realizing it, you nurture it you latch onto both the hope and the insecurity. You try to tell yourself you’re beautiful as you are and you kind of believe it but not really. You pretend not to but secretly you really do. Then you lose the weight, and you see the difference, you hear those same people that said you were beautiful say things like, wow you look great (but didn’t they say that 200lbs ago?) or all of a sudden the same men who told you were cute before are now always trying to touch and hug you or do things for you they never did before. Or people are saying things to you like I remember when you were “this big” and holding their hands as far apart as they can get, which all of a sudden slams home like never before. The awfulness of the size you were. It makes everything they ever told you feel like a lie. It creates a secret obsession to lose the weight at any cost. It brings the feeling of being as my friend Dawn said;”less than”. I feel less than, I feel frightened, to eat, to gain, to not be accepted, to be friendless, to be all the things I was, but was because I was fat. When the fat is stripped away, and all the "less thans" are laid bare, all the insecurities and ideas and notions of it being this way because I was fat are stripped away.
I can’t help but think of all these things as I sit here in my car, with my tummy actually rumbling out loud because all I’ve had for breakfast was a 130 cal. Protein shake. I hear the screams in your minds. GO EAT SOMETHING!! But I have a louder scream and it’s accompanied by a thousand pair of eyes I’ve seen over the years. The look of disgust and laughter carried in them. The remembrance of not being able to fit in a roller coaster seat when my children say mommy ride with me ,the feeling you get when you discover your kids have been in a fight because someone at school made a bad remark about how fat you are and child feels like they have to defend you, the feeling of being on a full bus where people would rather stand and risk falling than try to fit beside you, the feeling of going into a store and the salesperson running up to you and saying, we don’t carry your size. The feeling of being on an airplane and hearing a passenger exclaim loudly, I’m not sitting by her, there’s no room. Let it go some say. Unfortunately some scars take a lifetime to heal, and for me 2 years isn’t nearly enough time to pretend everything’s ok, that those things never happened. In time and with therapy they may fade, I will begin to adjust; however I doubt I will ever forget.
Until next time... hopefully happier and less philosophical.