I hate looking at a scale. I hate knowing that my goals are no where near to being realized. It feels as if all I've done - the healthy eating, the gymming, etc. - it's all been for nothing. It feels useless and I feel so incredibly stupid because I actually thought I was getting somewhere.
It is so bizarre to me how I can feel healthy and happy and amazing in a physical sense but one stupid little number can just cause every shred of pride in your accomplishments to completely dissipate. My mother used the word 'fixated' to describe my current association with my weight and physical appearance as I stood glaring at the scale. She's so very right though - she often is. I don't know what it is with me and my horrid relationship with my body. I don't know what I ultimately want to look like, I don't know how far I want or need to go until I'll be satisfied... All I know is that I don't want to look how I look right now. I just don't want to look like me.
I suppose that I sound grossly superficial in this instance... I know it's such a petty thing to allocate so much time and attention to. I don't know if it can currently be helped though. I've been insecure about my body ever since I can remember being aware of my physical appearance. I've always been the fat, ugly kid who always stood a part from her gorgeous friends with perfect figures. Especially when I was younger, I felt as though it was so unfair that I looked the way I did and that because of my physical appearance it meant I was allowed to be the victim of verbal bullying from my peers as well as from people who were really close to me. So I've always grown up with this massively skewed self-concept aided by my negative and dismal self esteem and my unrealistic idea of my ideal self. That's just how it's always been and I suppose then it's needless to say that my insecurity surrounding my physical appearance directly influenced my emotional and psychological health as well.
I struggled for a while with an eating problem - I'm not quite sure whether I have the liberty to call it a disorder. I still don't have the healthiest of relationships when it comes to eating... It's not about what I eat so much as it is about how much I eat. I generally eat very healthily i.e. low in carbohydrates, low in sugar, low in sodium, high protein, lots of tea and water, minimal junk food or takeaways, etc. Unfortunately, I go through this back and forth - a vicious cycle if you will. Either I eat far too little or far too much. It's always been like that. However, my phases of binge or excessive eating are far shorter than my almost anorexic approach to food. I wrote a poem about a year or so ago that very aptly portrays my view of my body as well as my view in regards to eating or the lack thereof as a means to solving my physical crises. I have grown up somewhat since having written the poem but there are still definite correlations between my self esteem and self concept of both then and now.
Oh To Starve - By Jillian Lawrence
When I happen
To steal a glance at the mirror…
I cringe.
My dignity and sanity,
Slowly unhinged.
I don’t see a person
I don’t see me…
I don’t even see what you think
That you see.
I see all of my failures-
They’re scars across my face.
A mark of the disgrace.
I see the overwhelming evidence
Of a girl unwanted.
Unneeded and defeated.
I look big, like a giant of sorts
Every blink is a thunderous roar
Every step is a trembling quake.
It must be a mistake…
Why does reality seem so fake.
Why do you see a person
While I see a mountainous ruin.
Grotesque and obscene
Obesity of note
A fat joke…
Oh murder was all that she wrote
But never could do it.
I can’t do it.
Oh to die would be too easy
It seems too good to be true
The only downside would be
Not saying goodbye to you.
All I see in the mirror
Is the mess-
What I've confessed.
I can’t face it
I can’t beat it.
It’s too big to beat.
The only solution is to starve
So that the shell of my adversity
Dwindles and dies
That way nobody cries…
Because there’s no blood,
Only my face in the mud.
Oh to starve so that I
May fade away
Until I wish to be seen someday
The more I see
The more I'm reminded
Of all I've done
Of all they did.
Oh to starve…
It seems the only way
To disappear a little more
Each day…
So that I may not be reminded
Of my darkest desires
To give up completely
To starve my body of air-
To kick the chair…
Oh to starve...
And to rid myself of life.
I found it quite morbid to read that and also somewhat chilling to recall my own state of mind when I first penned that poem. I've grown somewhat more confident in myself but I am still far from content. I think that's going to take a lot more work on my part as well as a lot more spiritual growth. I can go on these intense body bashing trips and then I suddenly realise that I am hating on something that God created and that He finds beautiful. At present, I don't understand why I was created to look the way that I do but I do know and believe firmly that God's plan and reasons for doing things is far beyond mortal comprehension. I feel so guilty at times when I look in the mirror and still hate what I see - I want so badly to be okay with not being the thinnest or the prettiest person on the planet. I want to say that I'll be okay with looking average... but I hate complacency and I hate the idea of mediocrity. That's why I have this raging inner conflict... because I'm fighting with myself and I get angry with myself for not being amazing at everything. I hate not being good at things and I hate thinking that I have not lived up to the expectations that I have of myself and that other people have of me.
I look in the mirror and I feel like I'm losing. It doesn't seem to matter that I eat healthily and exercise. The change or the difference that is supposed to come about is not apparent to me. Even when I somehow think that it is and for a split second I am happy with myself, there is something that ruins it for me... Like a snide comment from my sister or someone takes a photo of me and I don't look as good as I thought I felt. Inferiority is something I've always had to grapple with and it often wins as a result of it being so overwhelming at times. My physical struggle is perhaps most prominent because it's something I face continuously and I am most aware of it... I'm constantly caused to compare myself to everyone else - mentally deciding that they're prettier than me because they're thinner, because they have blue eyes, because their hair is longer, because their nose is sharper. I know I shouldn't but it's become inherent and that's why I call what I face an inner struggle because I loathe the fact that it has become habitual for me to knock myself down. It's like an out-of-body experience at the moment - I watch myself self-destruct at the fault of my own venomous words... And I can't run from myself. All I can do is try to distract myself from the screaming in my head - the sheer torment that I'll always be this way; that I'll always feel the pain of inadequacy.
I want more than anything to just be better. I want to keep getting better until my dying day... I just feel so blocked and frustrated at the fact that my efforts fall short. For those of you who have ever watched A Knight's Tale (if you haven't, go watch it - you have not yet lived until you do)... I feel like there's this voice inside of me that I can only assimilate to Adhemar. I keep hearing that line where he says, "You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting. In what world could you possibly beat me?" In what world could I ever be good enough? Whether it be physically, academically, creatively... Will I ever be as extraordinary as I have always dreamed to be? My biggest fear is that I will die and no one will care... I want to be remembered, I want to make a difference yet this overwhelming sense of mediocrity has me doubtful and worried about whether I'll die with integrity or in the depths of despair.
I don't want this baggage and the burden of all of my toxic insecurity any more. I'm clinging so desperately to faith and to God right now. I'm trusting so blindly and with such indignation because I have no choice but to refuse the suffering and to rather choose the peace that comes with resting in the assurance of Christ. I can't love any one fully until I stop hating myself. I can't ever be in a healthy relationship until I'm able to affirm myself instead of expecting to have all of my insecurities be somehow miraculously cured by some poor mortal man - only my God can do that.
I just want all the hurtful words of the past to die and to slip from my memory... I don't want to see the faces of the people who verbally abused the shy and overly-sensitive primary school Jill as raging distortions that choke me as I sleep. I don't want to look at my own sister, someone who I've always naturally looked to as a role model and looked for affirmation from, wishing that I had never existed to her so as to escape her criticism of me. I just want to be able to love my friends, family and God as they ought to be loved... and while this hate rages within me and eats away at my very soul, I cannot do that - I cannot be better.
I want to look at myself and see something beautiful - it doesn't matter what 'beautiful' actually looks like, I just want to feel as though I no longer have to change or attempt to be someone or something that I am not for the sake of the acceptance of others. I don't want the number on a scale or carelessly tossed insults to define the way I view myself. I want to be proud of the fact that I was moulded and shaped by a loving God who made me the way that I am for reasons that are good and perfectly in contribution and accordance with His plan and His will. I want to delight in the fact that I have been fearfully and wonderfully made instead of dwelling in the self-imposed misery surrounding my feelings of inadequacy. I want to smile instead of inwardly scowling at the mirror - I want to be thankful instead of melancholy to point where I am blind to my blessings.
--J.
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