Hawaii

I wrote the following entry while in Hawaii on vacation. I want to share this because it shows how even great things that happened in my life could not bring me out of my disease. I was on vacation, which should have been fun and relaxing. Instead, my disease lived in my head the entire time. I remember little of the trip other than my struggle to attempt normalcy.

"Part of me wants to not care how my body looks. There is so much contradiction. There is a part that wants to love unconditionally, and then there is the larger part. The part that frowns in disgust and horror at how my body looks now. My stomach bulges out. No longer concave as I want it to be. I must find a way to numb myself so that the panic does not set in. How can one feel this way on vacation? I am in Hawaii. I want to feel good. I have had just a few moments of that. Then, I have a drink or a meal and wonder what I am doing. If I want that body back, then why I am I not actively working for it? This is the New Year. Anything is possible I am told. I hope that it is possible to steer away from the shame and humiliation that I feel. I no longer want to live like this because it is a waste of life. An absolute waste. This disease has destroyed my relationships with family and friends. In the past, I have gone to the gym and tried not to eat to "fix" myself. That is just a cycle of the past 8 years and one that does not work. Is it right to love and accept this body that I feel bears so much shame? I may never get dressed in the morning and walk out of the house feeling comfortable in my own skin. Maybe I need to find a way to come to terms with that. Then, the eating disorder says "No way. You can starve again, you fat pig. You are a horrible disgrace. Ugly. You are not good enough to be here in this moment." How do I turn that voice off that constantly drills me all day long? Especially when I have little reassurance that my body is acceptable. Of course, I get that from my family. But what else are they going to say? And I get it from my counselor. Same thing. They would never say anything bad because they do not want to see me starve, overexercise, or vomit. I have self confidence that falls in the negative numbers. The light at the end of the tunnel seems years ahead of me. Miles down the road. So now what do I do? I am scared to go out in public. Fearful of any looks or comments that might put me over the edge. I see people that may look different whether it be facial deformities, overweight, limbs amputated, and I feel for them. My heart aches for them in case they are feeling any of the inadequacies that I feel every day of my life. I can relate to that. I can relate to the agony of avoiding meeting the eyes of others. The fear of looking in the mirror and the shear disappointment when you do happen to take a peek. I know firsthand what that is like. The pain runs deep. It is not on the surface. It buries itself in the core of the soul. And the grip is a tenacious one. I have tried to pry from its hold. But it is a strong one. Some days I pretend it is not there. I think this is worse because when I do glance in the mirror or look at my body, the horror seems more intense because I tried to pretend to myself that it was not the truth. That I was still long and lean. Athletic and thin. But that is no longer the truth. How will anybody like me like this? What is there to me to like? I do not know. I am scared to go back home after this vacation. I fear for my life because it is so easy for me to panic and fall into despair. I am scared that I will keep gaining weight as I have been. And then what will happen?  I already isolate because I am so ashamed of my body. I used to know what to do in response. Starve and exercise. That no longer works. I do not know what Plan B is. I have never even thought there was one. If I cannot have a thin body, then I see that as weakness. As not being good enough, strong enough, loveable. I see myself as a mistake.

Flesh. Too much of it. That is all I can think of when I think of myself. Well, that is my first thought anyways. Always a constant. I want to cut it away. Burn it. Slice it. Carve it away piece by piece. The feel of it makes me ache so deep that I think I cannot withstand the agony of it at times. I feel dead inside. There is no light within me. I have lost that inner beauty that I once thought made up for my lack of physical beauty. Now, there is nothing. It is raining as I sit on the hotel terrace. Watching the waves come crashing into the shore. Wishing for a miracle that will never come. I feel so uncomfortable in this body. So unattractive. Genderless. That is how I feel. I feel nothing towards this body but hatred. Why am I not athletic, active, muscular and lean? Instead, I am this blob of unwanted flesh. I cannot look to the future because I feel there is no future. Not feeling the way that I do. There is no joy. No hope. Just the constant feeling of wanting to disappear. To go away. There will never be love in my life. Nobody will accept a person that does not accept themself. I do not want to love myself as I am. I am disappointed with how I have turned out to be.  I fear that my life will end and it will be a life not lived. Shame and embarrassment plague me as usual. It shames me to say that I am an exercise science major. Why then would my body look like it does if I am supposed to have a degree with knowledge on how to keep fit and slim? There is no way out of it. I feel out of place everywhere I go. There is no comfort. No sense of belonging when I am around anyone. I feel I am a disgrace. A huge disappointment to all those around me. And so I have slowly isolated myself through the years. Now, I hardly know them and they hardly know me. Maybe that is partly because I do not know myself. I do not know who I am looking at when I look in a mirror. Other than, I cannot stand to look at that person. I feel so much despair. Sometimes there is hope mingled in. Sometimes not. I do not know how to journey through this. I do not know what steps to take. And I want to know them. I want to know how to heal myself so that I can find life. I want to know what it is like to laugh again. To smile. To feel love and give love. To feel human touch with comfort instead of fear.  I want to be whole again instead of in a million shattered pieces within this mass of flesh. Am I asking too much? I think not.

I cannot go on like this any longer.  There is so much anxiety about my body. So much hate. It overpowers me. Leaves me with no energy to even think about the simplest things in life that I need to do each day. There is no joy. No comfort. No peace.  I feel like I am going to explode. I am not sleeping well. I am so anxious about this body. I do not want to present it in public. It is too big. Too out of proportion. Too ugly. Too much. I cannot let go of my dream of being thin. Of being able to wear jeans, shorts, a bathing suit…and feel comfortable. And this dream is never going to be my reality. Unless I starve. And even then, I have never been able to maintain a low enough weight to wear clothes comfortably. How do I teach myself to accept my body? To accept that my body will always be changing. To accept that I may never be comfortable enough in my body to share a life with someone. To have kids. There is so much shame and embarrassment. So much that I cannot carry the weight of it any longer. I do not want to live in this agony anymore. There has to be a way out, but the pain is so intense that I cannot see the way."

Happy to report I found a way out. Shout out to Shades of Hope in Buffalo Gap, TX! A special thanks to Ashley Judd for sharing her story with Glamour magazine in 2006. I will write more about my experience at Shades in other posts.