Trigger warnings: diets, obsessive exercising
This morning, the day after Christmas, I weighed myself. I knew I was going to be disappointed, and yet there I was, pulling out the scale, placing it just right on the floor, and then tapping it with my toes, waiting for the 000 to appear. I made sure I had gone to the bathroom and that I hadn't had anything to eat or drink yet. I stepped on the scale and exhaled as I waited for the number. I guess maybe I was hoping that all my holiday eating wasn’t as bad as I thought. Or, that after seeing how bad it was, it would inspire me to finally get my act together and lose the weight I needed. As my weight appeared, my stomach felt as thought it suddenly filled with rocks. My thoughts immediately went into shame-mode. After some time hating myself for making so many eating mistakes, my brain went into problem-solving mode. My morning was spent researching and downloading the best free weight loss apps. I made sure my Fitbit was charged, and I put it on for the first time in weeks. I decided that I wouldn’t let myself eat breakfast until after I chugged my entire 32 ounce water bottle. I looked through my calendar and planned exactly how many pounds I would have to lose each week in order to be under 200 pounds in a few months.
This is pretty typical for me after I feel as though I’ve overeaten. If it is just one meal, I might keep most of the obsessing in my head, or I might do a quick exercise to try to make the guilt temporarily disappear. While visiting family, I actually slipped away into our guest room so I could do a few exercises. I hoped that I wasn’t being too loud because for some reason, I was worried about someone catching me exercising instead of interacting with family during the holidays. I also tried to go on as many walks as possible. Even though I genuinely enjoy walking and hiking, the walks during that time period were mostly because the holiday eating guilt was almost too much to handle, and I knew the negative voices would be quieter if I just got in a little exercise. I was also trying to figure out a way to use the exercise equipment in the basement without being too awkward, but I couldn't find a way to make that work. The challenge is to try to sneak in some exercise AND also seem normal around my fiancé’s family (and then later when we did more holiday meals and snacking with my family) even though in my mind I’m battling a LOT of self-hate and judgment. It’s difficult to be fully present when you are always trying to figure out how to be less.
If I feel like I’ve eaten badly for many days in the rows (like during the holidays), this kind of obsessive behavior is so much more than just some quick crunches when I think nobody will notice me slipping away to a back room.
What exacerbates all this is how I tend to binge at holiday meals. There's this idea that "it's the holidays! Eat what you want!" Since I feel like I'm always trying to restrict myself, I allow myself to eat more freely during this time, but it leads to eating to the point where I feel physically ill. I've gotten to the point where I can't tell how much of this sickness is from the guilt and shame of eating or from eating more than my stomach can handle. Most likely, it is a combination of both. It’s hard to write about this because it’s triggering, and I also don't like being vulnerable. However, I wanted to write about this because I want this to be the sort of blog that isn’t always sunshine and rainbows. Even though I’m trying really hard to love who I am, I want to show the reality of my situation. There are many blogs that focus on body positivity that are exactly that—so positive and motivational and uplifting. There’s nothing wrong with that! There are many blogs I love like this. But I found myself wanting to see more of the messy side of body acceptance because I wanted to see how others handle their day-to-day struggles with their body. And most of all, I didn’t want to feel alone. I‘m constantly having to fight against toxic thoughts and behaviors regarding my body, and sometimes I win the fight, and sometimes I lose. I often find myself wondering what life would be like if I didn't see food as numbers, numbers that need to be as low as possible. While I love food--baking, cooking, trying new dishes--I also see it as poison that will force my body to change against my will. If only, I think, I could have enough self-control! Then---THEN--I could be done with this struggle because I will have achieved the correct number on the scale.
Deep down, though, there is a tiny voice inside me, and it's not very loud, and it's been there since I was in fifth grade. I hear it every time I work out, step on the scale, or count my calories. It says that no matter what diet I try, or how small my portions are during Christmas dinners, nothing I do will ever be enough if it comes from of a place of wanting to be less. But what is so much louder are those numbers on my scale the morning after Christmas. And that puny voice becomes quieter and quieter until I can't hear her anymore.
