Shit I work out in counseling – Although it’s not really worked out it, it’s just floated to the surface.
I never really realized how .. mean I am to myself until a friend said something the other day about western state. Aparently during the hike, I was beating myself up under my breath. I mean, I know I am in my mind. I never realized how vocal I am about it. I thought it was primarily in my mind.
But I catch my mom doing it.
“I’m such a dumb ass”
“What a fucking idiot”
And then I noticed … I do it too. “Come on fat ass.”…”cow” fat ass” toad” dumbass” ugly nasty cow”.
The truth behind all the fat / body positive posts is that I’m hiding behind that.
I would love to be substantially thinner; 180 ish.
I flood my page and my eyes/mind with images that it’s okay to be a fat girl; because that’s all I am.
But, I hate it. I hate not having energy. I hate being short of breath because of my sarcoid AND my weight. The two combined are killing me.
I would love to be able to wear clothes that I find adorable, unfortunately they stop at size 22.
I hide behind it, because I’m trying to convince myself I’m okay.
I’m talking this out with a friend. She says to me, “What would YOU tell you? If all those “tapes” disappeared, what would you really say to you?”
Truth be told. If I memory banks were magically wiped, I would be reverted to a child like state. I would have no clue how to positively encourage myself. I have never had that.I have never, in my life, been reinforced. Or taught how to reinforce confidence myself.
That’s a sad, sad thought.