It occurred to me the other day, as I was snapping at my nine year old to get the camera AWAY FROM ME, that I really don't like to have my picture taken. Yes, I know- LOTS of people don't like to have their picture taken- so why is this "blog-worthy"?
It's just that... something clicked in my mind about the whole thing. Everyone has dug through old pictures of themselves, friends, family, etc. There are endless comments about the clothes people were wearing (think pink sweater in 8th grade, Tim), mullet-madness, the bangs that were hair-sprayed so high that the girl was about five inches taller than she really was, leggings, stirrup pants, the lovely trend of glasses that were eight times the size of someone's face, etc.
When I look at pictures of myself, I don't see my clothes, I don't see my hair, my glasses, my shoes, anything like that. I don't see my face, I don't see myself. I see fat.
Shopping with my mother the other day, during a completely unrelated conversation, I found out that during my hospital days, I weighed even less than I thought. I always thought that the lowest I got was 83 lbs. Apparently though, at one point, the doctors told my parents that I was down to 78 lbs.
The point, you ask? Hearing that? Made me happy. Gave me a rush. I felt like I'd accomplished more than I thought I had or something. I know that's sick and twisted, but it's true.
And then... doing some calculations, I realized I now weight almost three times that. Which, of course, sent me hurtling into a dark, dank place where I grabbed some UV Blue to forget.
I once asked someone during my years in and out of hospitals, "How do I learn not to want to want to?" As in, how on earth can I retrain my brain to not want to be super psycho skinny? Obviously, I'm not engaging in those behaviors anymore or I wouldn't 222 lbs. But the desire is still there. And I don't understand how to make it go away. I think part of the reason I struggle with trying to lose this weight in a healthy, mindful manner is that I don't know what will happen. I don't know that if I start, really and truly commit to it, that I'll be able to stop. That's absolutely terrifying to me. As much as I don't want to be where I am now weight-wise, neither do I want to be hospitalized with the threat of tube-feeding hanging over my head. I have yet to find the balance necessary to be healthy, but not insane; focused, but not obsessed; content, but not manic. Sometimes I'm scared I never will.
