Revelations

Last night I sat in Brandon's room watching some DVR and playing Pet Society on Facebook while Brandon had some of his priest quorum friends over for game night in the living room. (See x-box reference in previous post.)

I looked over at his closet doors which are mirrored and I gasped. I have gained back 30 of the 75 lbs I lost last year and there they were. I started pushing on my stomach to make it disappear. It didn't. When B came in to ask if I'd like a beverage and a slice of pizza I said, "am I really fat again? how come you didn't tell me?" And he ignored me and went on counting change for the pizza delivery guy. I said, "you need to tell me I'm not that fat." And, he did...but it was insincere and forced. (I forced him to be insincere and forced!)

The self-reproach/punishment started. Somehow I still believe, after years of evidence stacked to the rafters, that punishing myself will make me into a better person. It never works, but I am like a dog going back to its vomit. I found myself humming cruel songs (Breaking Dishes, I'm getting nothing for Christmas) and telling myself, "How could you let this happen again?" I told myself, "You don't deserve to go to Las Vegas and have fun, you're too fat! You won't even fit in the airplane seats!" Then I heard, "you have no one to blame it on but yourself, you let your friends down, and they stuck with you when you didn't deserve it."

This morning as I was grooming for the day I told myself I didn't deserve to do my hair...let it be greasy and stringy it would match your stomach! I tried to convince myself not to wear makeup or jewelry and to wear some muumuu that I don't even own any more. And then something (finally) snapped. I envisioned myself on this trip. I saw myself asking my girlfriends to assure me that I wasn't fat, just the way I'd manipulated Brandon into telling me what I wanted to hear last night. I saw myself feeling sorry for myself and dragging down everyone else's fun time. And it occurred to me that I've been at this heavier weight for a few weeks and I've been still dressing as well as I can and wearing make up and jewelery. I even bought myself a few new necklaces a week or two ago. So, how was I able to be cute and happy when I was fat? And, if I could do it then, couldn't I still do it now? And the answer is yes. I can be really fat and I can be happy and fun. I still have the same personality. I don't need to weigh others down with my self0deprication and loathing. I can be totally present in what we're doing. I can have fun. And I'm going to do just that.

As I paused for my morning prayer this morning I admitted that I resent my subjugation to food. I hate that I have to count calories and exercise. I loathe how hard I have to work to look good and how confused I get when my mind is fat--even if my body is thin. It occurred to me that my friend Michelle works just as hard as I do (should) so that she can have her body. And her body is smokin'. The difference is not the amount of work we do, it's our attitude about the work. She accepts that it takes the work to have what she wants. And I am not willing to sacrifice the food and comfort/pleasure cookies bring in exchange for the healthy and hot body that can go to Vegas and have fun, and that has to work to get the stomach to the thighs in yoga (this is a very natural condition to me and the instructor makes it sound like laying your stomach on your thighs is difficult!). Michelle accepts and I reject and resent the need to watch what I eat.

I am a slave to my appetite (emotional and physical) and the only way I an be freed from this slavery is to exchange it for a different master. I have to be enslaved to something else. God. I have to trade masters. This hit me profoundly this morning and I was filled with anger! Why do I have to be a slave to anything??? I want to be my own master!

Here's where acceptance comes in. I can accept my dependence on a substance to get through my life and when I do that substance will shield me from all others. Food shields me from God, forcing me to live in misery and self-loathing, finding only patches of life between meals...while God could and has and will shield me from food giving me another way to cope with life, relief from self-hate, and a bounty of love for myself and others.

I pray for the humility and wisdom to make the right choice.