I think another light bulb came on for me this morning.
I really have been quite obsessed with the scale number, the clothing sizes, the ugly arms, the fat thighs, and have, in my head, been in panic mode of OMG HOW AM I GONNA STOP THIS ROLLER COASTER AND GET THIS WEIGHT OFF????? I've vacillated between "oh well, I will just try and eat healthy and accept myself" and "omg I have to stop eating or I am going to explode!" I admit it... mentally I have been completely wrapped up in how/when/why/omg/too fat/this is hard/what am I gonna do" for quite some time... several months, probably. This morning, I took a few moments to CALM DOWN and look objectively at what's going on.
I have regained some weight. And the overwhelming feeling/emotion I have, that I have been trying to ignore or cover up, is embarrassment. Humiliation. Even though I *know* people do not love me less than they did 19 pounds ago, and I know I have still done something phenomenal in my life, and that I am more than a size, I still have those feelings. I know I *should not* feel humiliated. Everyone will tell me that. And that's why I've been ignoring and trying to stuff down those feelings. But you know what, they are there, and once I let myself feel them and acknowledge them this morning, I felt such relief.
I acknowledge that I am embarrassed and feel humiliated that when I go out, people no longer say "wow you are still losing weight! You look fantastic! What are you doing?" but instead give me a look that I interpret as "hmmm, is she getting bigger?" I feel embarrassed of my arms and my bigger pants and that it is obvious to anyone who has seen me recently that I have regained weight. I am embarrassed that people may be wondering if I am going to gain it all back, or what is wrong, or why I am screwing up. And in some deep, underlying way, I am actually ashamed of myself for letting go of the control I felt over my eating for months, and for sitting in a car alone eating candy bars and hoping no one will see me and trying to find someplace to get rid of the evidence.
THAT is what has been underlying the general self-loathing negativity you may have sensed on my blog recently. It is utterly important that I acknowledge this, feel the feelings, take a breath, and move forward.
This morning, I practiced some self-love. I put on some nicer clothes and decided to box up those self-deprecating baggy jeans I've been wearing almost every day for months. They'd become the equivalent of the baggy black stretch pants with holes in the thighs that I used to wear when I weighed 278 pounds. I stopped caring about how I looked. I didn't even bother washing them very often. I knew they looked like crap, but they weren't too tight and I looked lousy anyway so who cared? I am stopping that behavior RIGHT NOW. Those baggy jeans will never cross my hips again.
I shaved my legs, gave myself a pedicure, broke out some cute sandals and some old, but still nice, denim capris. My daughter saw me and said, "You look pretty!" Self-care has truly been lacking, but starting now I am going to treat myself the way my little girl would treat me... and she has treated me like a queen on this Mother's Day. If I can love myself the way she loves me, my life will be so much richer.
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