i have realized that unless i change how i think about myself, and how i talk to myself, i will never find peace, nor will i win this battle.
it feels as if life is sort of like "groundhog day," in that i keep coming around to the same things over and over and over, until i get them right. for as far back as i can remember, i have felt fat. unlovely. unacceptable. a size 7, or 10, or even 14 isn't "fat." fluffy, maybe,
but not the horror i see it as. i live on a dishonest level, where i say, it's ok if i don't get back down to my smallest size, or lowest weight. deep down, though, that IS my goal. i just don't let it see the light of day....where it can be scrutinized, and ultimately corrected.
when i was about 12, my mom bought a skirt for me, and she had me try it on. it was a size 3. i couldn't zip it up all the way. her comment: "god! you're a horse." logically, i know being a size 5 doesn't make you a horse, but that is etched in the depth of my self-image. we won't even talk about what being a size 28 meant! i think i've been trying to get down to that size ever since....like if i were a size 3, then i finally wouldn't be a horse. honestly, i'm not sure my SKELETON could even be a size three!!! so, it's time to get real.
i breezed past a size three, and i will never get there. anorexia couldn't accomplish it. that failure was the beginning of a decades-long battle i'm still fighting. i think the most destructive enemy is my desire to be a size 3. i need to put that
so, i will diligently work my way back down to a size 10/12, and i will be re-training my thoughts along the way. i think the retraining will be much harder than the eating/exercise thing, but it will be so