Sunday, October 09, 2011
You know that I don't every really know how fat I truly am until I look at myself in the mirror. Really look I mean. Thankfully I do not have a full length mirror or I would fall to pieces every morning. I do however have a mirror above my dresser (that came with the apartment) that does show quite a bit. Normally I don't pay it that much attention, which is why so often in the afternoon I look at what I am wearing and wonder how I ever left the apartment wearing it. In my mind I'm not as big as I appear. I think in my mind I am still the same size it was in high school, so it's about 11 years in the past.
Not even the number on the scale, while alarming, doesn't bring it home as much as an good, honest, and long look at my body.
Today was one of those days. I got dressed wearing one of my more favorite outfit combinations—jeans, tank under cardigan, heals—then half an hour before I needed to leave for church I looked in that mirror and saw myself. I saw my rolls, not as hidden as I would have liked, and I saw how snug the sweater really was and I knew I could not go out of the apartment looking like that. I was like a sausage. Lets just say that it did not do much to improve my mood today.
Today I know how big I appear but tomorrow or the next day I will go back to not looking at myself in the mirror and somehow convince myself that I am not as big as the number on the scale tells me that I am. I don't know if that is healthy or not but I know that it keeps me from hating my body and it keeps me from crying my eyes out, but I also know that I does not help me to watch what (or how much) I am eating and it doesn't help me to stick to an exercise plan because why would I need to when I'm really not that big.
Oh the lies we tell ourselves...