madermouse's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 4/8/02 Nakedness. It�s a strange state for me. Words come to mind when I think of myself naked. Vulnerable. Truth-telling. Painful awareness. Shame.
I used to purposefully avoid seeing myself naked. Hell, I used to avoid seeing myself from the neck down, in any mirror. Only occasionally would I allow the long, full-length mirror to be dragged out for specific circumstances - such as to see how a new dress matched a pair of shoes, or to confirm that a shirt was long enough to cover my hanging stomach in the front. I remember my mom visiting me, and asking me, �Where is your full-length mirror? Don�t you have one?� So I dug it out of the closet for her. And, ironically, I�ve never put it back. The mirror has been my mental snapshot, picture-taker. Every morning I spend a few seconds in front of it, noticing, frowning, inspecting... I�m never happy. And if I do see something �improved�, I�m never quite satisfied by it. But I am often fascinated with the changes I see. Sometimes it�s a new wrinkle, a new fold, a new �dent�. (It was a new dent this morning that made me step closer and turn on the light for closer inspection.) I turn to the side, to see the ghastly profile. I check the stomach to see if its any higher up (my ultimate dream come true is to buy a shirt without a thought as to whether or not it covers my hanging pannus), but I will occasionally check out the gluteus maximus too. (Its rising quite nicely, thank you.) Then it�s a quick turn to view the rear, to contemplate cellulite, to check out the wide-load factor, to study the folds in my back. Then I suck in my gut and hold it while pressing down the upper stomach to flatten, and I imagine how I would look someday - without all this extra. My flesh. My map of pain. I study this map every single day in hopes of finding my way. Its amazing that a person could change so much. That a person who couldn�t stand to look at themselves, would now be willing to see themselves naked every day. Not only that, but be willing to analyze themselves. I marvel at the difference in me. I had two guest passes from a friend (thanks Anne) to the YMCA, so I indulged myself in 2 hours on Saturday, and 2 � hours on Sunday. I spent about 25 minutes on the elliptical trainer, (the X-train aerobic setting level 8), 15 minutes on the treadmill (2.6 mph, �hill�setting, level 10), and then swam some laps in the pool. Then it was off to the sauna, the steam room, the whirlpool, and finally a hot shower. It was at once both divine, and torturous to be at the gym. The mirrors....they are all over the place. Luckily, they are avoidable while using the aerobic equipment. All the equipment actually faces huge windows that overlook the city, which is nice. But it wasn�t the mirrors that made me the most uncomfortable. It was me. I felt so self-conscious again. At home I just threw on some old shorts and a tiny shirt (one I wouldn�t be caught dead in public wearing) and I�d go at it. But being there, with other people just a few feet from me, it was different. First off, I was ultra aware of my size. I was easily the fattest person there. I was also the jiggly-est. Consequently, I had to constantly pull down my shirt which would ride up over my stomach. I sat down in one of the recumbent bikes only to jump up after pedaling a few minutes. My legs, on the up-stroke, would hit my belly, sending a noticeable wave of whale-blubber-type jiggling up my front. It was so noticeable that the woman next to me caught herself glancing at it. That was my cue to go... Secondly, the nakedness was abundant. I never thought that would bother me. Women were naked in the showering and dressing area, naked in the steam room, naked in the sauna, naked in the whirlpool. Its not that I was offended by their ability to feel comfortable with their bodies. Not at all - I mean, more power to them!! Its just that I was forced to be faced by the comparison of my own body to theirs. And I was truly disheartened by it. Trust me - I didn�t just look at the skinniest or the youngest and compare either!! I looked at the older women, the slightly heavier women, the saggier women. But none of their bodies looked like they had been through what mine had been through. I�m only 28. I couldn�t help but think what my body will look like when I�m 50. By the time I left the gym on Sunday, I was thoroughly bummed out about it. Because - you see - at home, in front of my mirror I can look and compare to what I used to be. That�s the beauty of it. No, I might never be satisfied, but some part of me recognizes that I�m changing for the better. I might hate my stomach, but I hate it a whole lot less than I did 14 months ago! It was just so hard seeing other, real-live women naked and knowing that no matter how hard I work, I simply cannot look like that. I felt like I had a lump in my throat all day that I could not swallow. But, going to the gym had to do something positive for me. My abdomen was sore from that elliptical trainer! Which brings me to my next topic for discussion....my �dents�. I had a new �dent� today. I�ve talked about it before, but these are just the weirdest things. This one is in the lower part of my stomach, and is about half an inch long. It wasn�t there yesterday. NO KIDDING!! It just �appeared� this morning, during my inspection. I remember the first dent I found. It was in my upper thigh and it looked like someone had taken a tablespoon and carved out my fat there. But you should see it now! Its like an inch deep and three inches wide! Its right around the hip flexor - which is used heavily in step aerobics. I guess the muscle right there used all the fat around it for energy.Was it a coincidence that I suddenly had a �dent� there this morning? Hmmm.... I think NOT!! So onward I say - to the elliptical trainer and beyond!!!!! A-hem.. Anyway. I have some news to report. I�ve lost a wee-bit of weight this week. But I�m scared to say it aloud for fear of jinxing it. I mean, during the past two months, there have been random fluctuations in my weight. It hasn�t been like 263. 263. 263.. 263... every SINGLE time I�ve stepped on the scale. Its been like 263.5, 262.9, 263.1, 262.0... even as low as 261.8 once. But despite the little variations, it almost always said something closest to 263 on Monday mornings...so that�s what I went with. Now I�m wondering if what I saw this morning on the scale was actually a weekly fluctuation.? or, could it be, I�ve broken my plateau? I�m scared to say it could be true. But dammit I would believe it COULD be.... I was soooo good this week. Fiber, fiber, fiber. Fruit, fruit, fruit. Exercise, exercise, exercise. I�ve avoided processed foods and sugar like the plague. I�ve hardly eaten any cheese (even the light versions.) My after dinner dessert has been a cup of Oregon Chai made with skim milk. And I�ve only eaten in the middle of the night once - and that was after I didn�t eat but two bites of my salad for dinner. And I haven�t written a thing in my food journal for almost two weeks now. No counting of calories for me, only portion control and listening to my body. I don�t dare say that I�ve broken it....not yet. But if you want to check out the stats you can do it here.
2:04 p.m. - 4/8/02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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