I am having a problem.
And I hesitate to blog about it because it makes me appear ungrateful, slightly irrational, and for lack of a better word...pathetic.
I am having a hate relationship with my body. It's hard for me to even look in the mirror. Brushing my teeth has become problematic. Working out in front of the mirrors during circuit is discouraging.
It's bad. And I am not sure why.
Now that my period is as regular as the sun rising, the 2-3 days prior to starting I have noticed that I am highly emotional, needy, and straight up coo coo with a side of crazy. This is not that 2-3 day time period.
I look in the mirror and I see everything that is wrong with my body. For one fleeting moment I see my definition, my muscles, my accomplishments...but those positive thoughts are overtaken by a narrative that sounds a little something like this:
"Yes, my arms are okay, but if there wasn't so much fat covering my biceps, I could see them better. Yes I can do a couple of tricep dips and I am lucky that my bat wings are smaller, but they are still there...still hanging and taunting me. Yes my quads are nice, but who cares when my inner thighs are saggy like a deflated elephant. And my boobs are like pancakes, and my stomach...well...God help me if I bend over. And my belly button ring is sagging and...."
on and on.
It's discouraging that some of what we have done to our bodies cannot be undone. And it's sad that after losing 160 pounds, I let the negative thoughts consume me sometimes. I should know better. I am healthy and fit. But it sucks to compare. It sucks that even though the girl at the gym with the horrible personality and fake tan is not the girl I want to be, but I am jealous of her newly bought boobs and she makes me feel inferior. It's sucks that when I was a size 26, I would have told you that I would have been happy and fine at a size 12. And now at a size 10, I can't figure out why I am not good enough, dedicated enough, and why I lack what others have to be a size 8.
But, I suppose there is no use in pontificating forever on this subject. I know that my self-image will swing the other way soon...and hopefully hold there for longer than I hold here. I do know that I should be proud of me. And I am. I just wish that I could close my eyes and my body would fix itself.
Saggy skin...poof. Gone.
Stretch marks...poof. Disappeared.
Happy Tuesday buttercups. Man...sometimes being human is hard!