madermouse's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 5/1/02 Have you ever heard the expression, �You create your own reality?� Oh - duh - of course you have...I�m always spouting that off here in my journals. Why do I always quote this expression? Because its true. Take my neighbor for example. When I met her, she was always telling me how f*cked up she was, what a loser she was, how ugly she was, and how she didn�t have any friends or deserve any friends, that she was unlovable. I thought she was being too hard on herself so I gave her the benefit of the doubt - that�s the kind of person I am. Sure, I knew she had some problems - an eating disorder, (hey- who doesn�t?), an abusive boyfriend (I tried to support her through the explosive break-up), and pretty severe depression (been there, done that). I thought I might be a positive influence in her life, that maybe I could help her work through some of this crap. After all, none of us are perfect, right? And so I tried to make her feel good about herself, to lift her up when she was down, to support her and feed her and just be a good listener too. But you know what? She turned out to be probably the ugliest (personality-wise) people I�ve ever known. She was explosive and irrational. Once, she was angry because my husband informed someone at the coffee shop that she wasn�t a person to get romantically involved with. So instead of having a normal confrontation about the issue, she drunkenly came to my apt., kicked down my front door, and punched my husband in the face!? She was mean-spirited, especially under the influence of alcohol. I watched as she chewed people up around her, and spit them out, and then cried about having no friends. I saw her show a handful of hair to the police and claim her boyfriend tore it out of her head before he left....she later told me (while drunk) she pulled out hair from her own hairbrush! I heard her lie, and saw her steal, and all the while I still thought I could help her. But she sabotaged herself at every turn, and then insisted the whole world was against her. As sad as it was, it seemed that she was right about herself, in every detail. She was very fucked up, psychologically and otherwise. I found out that it WAS really difficult to love her, to be her friend. It was exhausting and exasperating all at the same time, and I finally had to back away before she completely used me up too. We are what we make ourselves. The fat person is an even truer example of someone who creates their own reality. They steep in their own unhappiness, endlessly trying to fill a void that was never meant to be filled with food. They learn to stay inside, to avoid being the object of ridicule or stares or (in my case) pointing and laughing. They avoid social situations which would put them in compromising positions. Like entering a bar with friends, only to find that every chair in the place is made of wicker and has arms which curve inward. Like going to a picnic where everyone is lounging in lawn chairs, and on blankets, and you realize there is no chair *safe* enough to sit in, nor is there a way to sit on the ground with grace or without pain. The fat person stays inside in the summertime, when its hot to avoid sweating, to avoid wearing shorts in public, to avoid the uncomfortable chafing and rashes that happen when they venture out to long in the heat. Hell, they sweat in a chilled room, standing still, with a fan on them, in January! They stay inside because what is there to do outside? Gardening with knees that pinch and burn when you kneel on them? Hiking, soccer, baseball? Walking is hardly a treat - with an aching back while gasping for breath. Riding a bike - out of the question... Swimming - in a revealing bathing suit!? No way. Tennis, basketball, horseback riding? Think about it.... So the fat person stays in, abstains from social situations, avoids going outside in summer, and that�s when they start laying the bricks to their reality wall. They eat to feel euphoric, instead of experiencing the natural highs of real life. Their pizza is their best friend, nurturing them with every cheezy, fat-numbing bite. The cool caress of ice cream, the invigoration of a spicy jalapeno, the lure of a molten chocolate brownie becomes the passion for which they live. Brick by indulgent brick, they lay the foundation of their reality, and they soon become how they feel. And they feel lonely - because they are. They feel trapped - because they�ve trapped themselves with food. They feel confined - because they�re confined to the stagnant security of their homes. They feel fat - because they�ve overeaten and their bodies are plump and bloated. They hate themselves - because they�ve become a slave to something that doesn�t really make them happy. I know I have created my own reality. This is a tough bite to swallow sometimes. I look at my plateau and I wonder why I created that for myself. Was it to teach me a lesson about the value of the scale? If so - have I learned that lesson? Or will I continue to torture myself with its numbers. This morning, I weighed in at 263 again. It was like April never happened. It was my worst fear actualized, and it hit me like a sucker punch to the gut and took my breath away. 4 pounds of confidence, ripped from my grasp, and I�m left with nothing but questions. How did I create this for myself? How did I take my fears out of my head, and make them real? If not how, then why? Why did I? I�m at a total, mind-numbing loss here. On top of this, I got my new pictures developed and scanned last night. I�ve added some more �fat� pictures I found of myself if you�d like to look. But there was literally no difference between me at 290lbs, and me at 263lbs. So I didn�t post those. Its like, I know there is 35 pounds difference there - but you cannot visually see it. How can this be? No - this isn�t just a case of me not being able to objectively look at them and admit to the changes. I even showed my husband and asked for his honest opinion, to which he replied, �Well, honey, you�re right - these don�t show the loss. But you can really see it in person!� He suggested that the lighting was bad, perhaps the angle was off...whatever. It was devastating to me. So here I sit in all my misery with the scale at 263lbs, the pictures mocking me with all their glaring same-ness. I feel like eating a whole pizza, but honestly know what kind of brick I�d be laying there. So I�ll skip it for now. I feel utterly and completely hopeless right now, and completely devoid of any positive outlook. Because somewhere in all of this, I know I�ve created this for myself and I don�t know why. I just hope I learn real quick, and move right the fuck on.....and soon. 2:10 p.m. - 5/1/02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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