Body Imaginings
Jan. 27th, 2009 02:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
my_window_seatI am 50 lbs. overweight.
Actually, it's very likely that according to some stupid table somewhere, I'm actually 50+ lbs. overweight according to my height and blah blah blah whatever.
But 50 lbs. down from where I am right now would put me at the reasonable average I used to maintain without any real thought about it.
Definitely not a runway model, but reasonably female-shaped.
Back when I subsisted almost entirely on vegetables (also through no conscious thought, just - because).
And when my main form of transportation was bus + walking.
And before the $%^&* internet.
And -
Anyway.
There is a lot of stuff going on in my life that has my head in a crawlspace of grarg. And I haven't felt - like myself, whatever that is - for a long time, really. A conservative estimate would be about 5 years give or take. The current weight is something that's been building up over the last, oh, 2-3 years, with a couple exceptions where it briefly dipped in the right direction - which would be the last time I posted pictures - and why I haven't since.
While it isn't the cause of all my earthly woes, I do know that the extra weight has a very real effect, not just on my physical well-being (duh), but on my mental state as well.
I grew up as a feral child for the most part. Reared by relatives, friends of friends, and to a certain extent, kindly strangers. My primary interactions with my occasionally-resident mother revolved mainly around how I was too fat and unattractive. Looking back at the few pictures I have, it's clear that with few exceptions (a couple heavier periods here and there), the woman was clearly off her fucking nut.
It doesn't much matter that she was a neurotic cunt. It's a voice I can't get out of my head.
But the fact that I can't look in a mirror anymore without hating what I see has nothing to do with that. The reality is that I am a fat bastard now. And it colors everything that I think and do.
Out of all the things going on around me right now, this is the one thing that I actually have some control over.
Assuming that I take the responsibility for and actively work towards changing something that I actually can change.
It's hard to think about. Taking that responsibility on.
It requires effort on my part.
It's one more thing that, like a lot of things right now, I could fail at.
And that's something I have a really hard time thinking about.
I've lost weight before.
But I've never done it successfully through a conscious act of will.
Any drastic weight-loss I've ever undergone has always been a reaction to something else. At 12, I worked for a summer in a vegetarian restaurant (yeah, child labor laws were really non-existent in those days), and for 3 months, I lived with a family that actually wanted me. When I came 'home' (under duress) for the new school year, even the family I used to babysit for didn't recognize me. In my twenties, after Stewart and I broke our engagement, I lost 40 lbs. in 30 days. The dark joke there being that I couldn't eat (I lived off vegetable juice, yogurt and cigarettes), and I couldn't sleep, so I walked all night - miles and miles and miles. And then sleeping was even more difficult, because I felt bones in places where I didn't even know I had them.
A few times, I fell in love. Infatuation as a food replacement is amazing. And also very rare. Looking and feeling like everything is beautiful and fragile and - life should feel like that more often. Given the choice, it would be my drug of choice.
And that kind of thing has happened a couple times since then, to a much lesser degree. A reaction to some kind of emotionally climactic or cauterizing situation, followed by loss of appetite and increased physical exertion.
But in the last few years, the trend has changed. The reaction to pain that I can't face has turned into lethargy. Feeling so numb that I can't feel most of my body - but instead of restlessness, there's only listlessness.
Not that emotional turmoil is a recommended form of weight-loss, but if my head's going to be a trainwreck anyway, it would be nice to at least be walking around in body that didn't so closely resemble a three-car pile-up.
I've blamed a lot of my current condition on the fact that I live in a place where it's damned near impossible to get anywhere without driving. And I hate - HATE - exercising for the sake of exercising. I don't care what anyone says, it has always felt like a goddamn waste of time to thrash around just for "exercise", and no one can convince me to like it. You'll feel different once you do it, blah blah blah - save it for someone who buys the whole "feel the burn" thing and don't make me cranky by quoting fitness gurus. Seriously. I will cut you.
I can keep complaining about it and feeling like X amount of shit packed in an -X size bag, or I can do something about it.
No advice requested in this regard - believe me, I know how weight-loss works, and a lot of friendly how-to's will only feel more like expectations that I can't live up to. Seriously. If you really, really like me, you won't go there.
It's not rocket science. More than anything, it requires making the decision to make it happen.
The first thing that needs to happen is to get my head in a space where I feel like I can actually do that.
Make a decision to make something happen.
Try, with the possibility that I could fail.
Move forward without getting in my own way.
Kind of like a lot of things, huh?
Actually, it's very likely that according to some stupid table somewhere, I'm actually 50+ lbs. overweight according to my height and blah blah blah whatever.
But 50 lbs. down from where I am right now would put me at the reasonable average I used to maintain without any real thought about it.
Definitely not a runway model, but reasonably female-shaped.
Back when I subsisted almost entirely on vegetables (also through no conscious thought, just - because).
And when my main form of transportation was bus + walking.
And before the $%^&* internet.
And -
Anyway.
There is a lot of stuff going on in my life that has my head in a crawlspace of grarg. And I haven't felt - like myself, whatever that is - for a long time, really. A conservative estimate would be about 5 years give or take. The current weight is something that's been building up over the last, oh, 2-3 years, with a couple exceptions where it briefly dipped in the right direction - which would be the last time I posted pictures - and why I haven't since.
While it isn't the cause of all my earthly woes, I do know that the extra weight has a very real effect, not just on my physical well-being (duh), but on my mental state as well.
I grew up as a feral child for the most part. Reared by relatives, friends of friends, and to a certain extent, kindly strangers. My primary interactions with my occasionally-resident mother revolved mainly around how I was too fat and unattractive. Looking back at the few pictures I have, it's clear that with few exceptions (a couple heavier periods here and there), the woman was clearly off her fucking nut.
It doesn't much matter that she was a neurotic cunt. It's a voice I can't get out of my head.
But the fact that I can't look in a mirror anymore without hating what I see has nothing to do with that. The reality is that I am a fat bastard now. And it colors everything that I think and do.
Out of all the things going on around me right now, this is the one thing that I actually have some control over.
Assuming that I take the responsibility for and actively work towards changing something that I actually can change.
It's hard to think about. Taking that responsibility on.
It requires effort on my part.
It's one more thing that, like a lot of things right now, I could fail at.
And that's something I have a really hard time thinking about.
I've lost weight before.
But I've never done it successfully through a conscious act of will.
Any drastic weight-loss I've ever undergone has always been a reaction to something else. At 12, I worked for a summer in a vegetarian restaurant (yeah, child labor laws were really non-existent in those days), and for 3 months, I lived with a family that actually wanted me. When I came 'home' (under duress) for the new school year, even the family I used to babysit for didn't recognize me. In my twenties, after Stewart and I broke our engagement, I lost 40 lbs. in 30 days. The dark joke there being that I couldn't eat (I lived off vegetable juice, yogurt and cigarettes), and I couldn't sleep, so I walked all night - miles and miles and miles. And then sleeping was even more difficult, because I felt bones in places where I didn't even know I had them.
A few times, I fell in love. Infatuation as a food replacement is amazing. And also very rare. Looking and feeling like everything is beautiful and fragile and - life should feel like that more often. Given the choice, it would be my drug of choice.
And that kind of thing has happened a couple times since then, to a much lesser degree. A reaction to some kind of emotionally climactic or cauterizing situation, followed by loss of appetite and increased physical exertion.
But in the last few years, the trend has changed. The reaction to pain that I can't face has turned into lethargy. Feeling so numb that I can't feel most of my body - but instead of restlessness, there's only listlessness.
Not that emotional turmoil is a recommended form of weight-loss, but if my head's going to be a trainwreck anyway, it would be nice to at least be walking around in body that didn't so closely resemble a three-car pile-up.
I've blamed a lot of my current condition on the fact that I live in a place where it's damned near impossible to get anywhere without driving. And I hate - HATE - exercising for the sake of exercising. I don't care what anyone says, it has always felt like a goddamn waste of time to thrash around just for "exercise", and no one can convince me to like it. You'll feel different once you do it, blah blah blah - save it for someone who buys the whole "feel the burn" thing and don't make me cranky by quoting fitness gurus. Seriously. I will cut you.
I can keep complaining about it and feeling like X amount of shit packed in an -X size bag, or I can do something about it.
No advice requested in this regard - believe me, I know how weight-loss works, and a lot of friendly how-to's will only feel more like expectations that I can't live up to. Seriously. If you really, really like me, you won't go there.
It's not rocket science. More than anything, it requires making the decision to make it happen.
The first thing that needs to happen is to get my head in a space where I feel like I can actually do that.
Make a decision to make something happen.
Try, with the possibility that I could fail.
Move forward without getting in my own way.
Kind of like a lot of things, huh?
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no subject
Date: 2009-01-27 10:07 pm (UTC)*fats at you* Meh.