Have a Look at My “Issue”

So, right.  My “issue.”  Well, I will begin by saying this issue has caused me lots of pain.  Lots of pain for many, many years relative to the number I’ve been alive.  I haven’t had this issue my whole life, but I remember it quite early.  As early as sixth grade, then full blown in seventh grade.  Even more full blown every succeeding year until it consumed me, smothered me, and almost killed me.  Metaphorically speaking, it did kill me.  It killed the life in me.  And unfortunately, that was happening the same time the rest of my life felt like it was falling apart.  (Oops, this was supposed to be a more humorous post.)

This issue is the only thing that can so quickly and completely make me… bitchy (no, I don’t usually swear, and yes, I meant to say that).  Some people have claws, but that’s not how I roll.  I’m just not a person that lashes out or is blatantly mean.  However, I do have “ice.”  Basically, that’s me closing up inside myself and anyone who tries to reach in gets “ice,” which is probably referring to it nicely.  Let’s just say, you’d know it if you saw it and you’d WANT to leave me alone, which is the point.  It’s a painful privilege in a sense to earn my ice, only two or three people in the world know me well enough to have seen it.  Surprisingly, they still love me.  (I love them too.)

I don’t share this issue with people (anyone, ever), or how deeply it affects me.  This is a first.  Those who live with me would not be able to attribute my ice to this issue.  It’s probably a mystery to them.  I carry this issue alone.  Always have.  It is a prison of my own making.  I want to be free of it, but I can’t let it go.  

There has been a tremendous amount of progress in the last few years though.  For one thing, I’ve gotten some perspective on the issue.  I went all the way to the brink and then came back.  This is my nemesis.  My plague.  The thorn in my flesh.  The dark cloud over my head.

I’m trying to think of how to say it…

Let me turn on some happy music first…

 

Okay.  Here it goes…

 

Shit-For-Brains (yours truly) is wretchedly depressed when she feels … fat.  I avoid it at all costs.  I know that sounds ridiculous.  Don’t read any further without knowing that I WANT TO BE FREE OF THIS.  I would be so much happier.  A thousand times happier.  I wonder how much more love I would have to give in my life if I was free.  A lot more probably, which makes me very sad.  Plus, there’s just nothing wrong with being “fat.”

I’m not a jealous person.  I like being me, living the life I live, having the things I have, not having the things I don’t have, etc.  A few years ago though, I realized my one jealousy.  I’m not jealous of skinny-ness.  I don’t want or need to be “skinny”.  “Athletic” (or “hour-glass figure”) is what I usually am accused of and I like those better anyway. 

What I am jealous of is people who don’t worry about their weight.  I AM jealous of that.  Makes me kinda sad too because it feels so out of reach.  It will be my luck to marry someone who can eat all day long and not gain weight.   And to convey the depth of this issue, let me also reveal that I’ve actually considered (not even kidding here) not getting married at all, ever, and just spending the rest of my life training for and running marathons.

It’s a mystery how I have so much grace for other people in this area.  But none for myself.  Like my friend was telling me the other day how she’s gained some weight recently and in my head I was like, “Oh, who even cares.  It just doesn’t matter one iota in the scheme of life.  Your beauty is radiant.”  I said something similar out loud, but I don’t remember exactly what.

There has been progress though.  For example, this past holiday season.  I gained weight.  Mmm!  I loved every minute of it too.  Well, until the very end.  But mostly, I enjoyed it.  I only gained weight because I couldn’t run yet after my broken foot.  Other years I didn’t gain weight, because when I eat ridiculous amounts, I just compensate by running ridiculous amounts.  Which is what I’m going to do as soon as I’m finished with this post, because of The Ice Cream.

And yes.  I eat ice cream.  I’d have to run a lot less if I didn’t eat ice cream.  But I don’t even consider that an option, frankly. 

There are some good things that have come from my issue.  One of them is that I’m a very health eater for the most part (except for the ice cream, of course).  My diet consists mostly of vegetables (I’ll probably have kidney stones by the time I’m 25.), whole grains, fruits, and water. 

By the way, I don’t believe in “dieting.”  I think it’s so funny when there’s a commercial on TV advertising a new diet by saying with conviction, “It worked for me, it’ll work for you.”  Well, duh!  Almost every “diet” does.  The problem comes when you (that’s universal “you”) go back to your normal eating habits.  If you don’t change how you eat for GOOD, you’ll just gain the weight back.  Your body changes with your habits.  It ain’t rocket science.

Anyway… another good thing that’s come from my issue is that I have become a very disciplined runner.  Long distances, every day.  Actually, it looks like discipline, but it’s not.  It’s the opposite and is the same reason I don’t drink alcohol (or one of them).  I absolutely stink at moderation.   

The other good thing I’m thinking of that’s come from my issue is looovveee.  Investing my time, energy, and honest care in other people is a wonderful escape from the ravages of my own mind.  Not quite sure how I feel about that. 

I have made a lot of progress on this issue.  In fact, I can say straight up right now, before getting back to my pre-holiday weight, that I like my body.  In fact, I love it.  At the moment, it’s athletic.  Fit.  Healthy.  Does what I want it to.  Carries me around.  Puts up (and out) with all my shit.  It’s just nice.  A good body, and I mean that in the way you’d say it as you pat the hood of an old, faithful vehicle.  (As long as I get back to my normal weight soon.)

The “issue” is with FEELING fat and that I let it color my whole picture of myself.  Not BEING fat.  I know I’m not fat.  Not in any danger of becoming so either at present, although it feels like it occasionally.  (If you want to read more about what I think of my body >>CLICK HERE<<)

So wrapping this up… I have issues.  This is a big one for me.  So what.  I’m human.  And anyway, it doesn’t have to stop me from loving.  Someday I’ll have it more worked out than I do now.   I look forward to that time.  For now though…

I’m going running.  Please excuse me.

 

 

*There’s a picture >>CLICK HERE<< under the “Soccer” caption.  And head shots on the “About Me” and “Contact” pages (among other places if you’ve got the energy to dig deep within this blog).  

I couldn’t write this post without adding this music video…

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~ by Eva on January 13, 2009.

5 Responses to “Have a Look at My “Issue””

  1. Admitting is half the battle! I think you are hilarious! I wish I could tell you that I don’t have the same feelings. I am 5’6 105 pounds and I want to look better, different, athletic, curvy, sexy…..You name it. Skinny is not the goal Bottom line for me, I want what I don’t/can’t have. I can let it ruin my day, or I can stuff my face with a zinger and get over it. keep running, I will keep eating and maybe someday we can both be happy! 🙂

  2. If I were lucky enough to be included as your friend it wouldn’t matter to me what weight you are – be healthy only for yourself- the true friends/lovers won’t care. LET IT BE KNOWN- I LIKE CHUNKY WOMEN AND I’M SURE YOU ARE QUITE ATTRACTIVE- EVEN SEXY THIN OR CHUNKY.

    • tatheart2 – I am many hundreds of pounds and when I say “run” I actually mean “do leg lifts in my bed cause I can’t get out.” Additionally, I don’t shower, haven’t cut my hair since I was 4, and I don’t wear deodorant. Oh, and I don’t shave my legs.

  3. I don’t know…I’m not sure what you are ‘bitching’ about. You are healthy, you run, you are disciplined…

    What’s the issue here? You are very, very blessed. You have control of yourself…I have a friend who is 5 feet tall, and was 350 lbs. That’s a LOT of issues. She has extreme self-hatred, and it’s so misplaced. She is one of the most compassionate and insightful women I know.

    She just comes from a heavy, (very) family. Doesn’t help that tons of doctors have put her on tons of medications….

    However, that you run is the key. I just lost 30 lbs. in 3 months….walking 7 miles a day. Constantly. I did just about nothing else. And that is a waste.

    There IS something wrong about being fat…because you are treated differently by so many. People see the fat, they don’t see the heart and mind. And you generally have less self-esteem that is what is the downfall of fatness.

    The self-hatred.

    My best to you!

    Lady Nyo

  4. […] the past 10-12 years in order end up in a place to finally be relieved of disordered living, i.e. obsessed about weight.  Establishing each of these steps into patterns felt to me like submitting a mountain.  Each […]

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