For my body, I lost my sanity.
In my mind, I am projecting sentences to describe this challenging yet liberating journey. Suddenly, I sit down, place my hands on the keyboard, and I don't know what to write. A million words and thoughts whirl in my mind as I attempt to transport myself back to that period. It makes me want to cry. I begin to recall the first time I realized I had an issue with food. It was a long time ago, back in high school. I realized I perceived food differently than people around me. I felt ashamed to eat in front of others, but I could devour a lot at home. Overeating, followed by drastic denial coupled with fingers down the throat, is a living hell for anyone going through it because it's not a walk; it's a run. An escape. It's a vicious circle that's challenging to break free from.
Every woman's dream is to eat whatever she wants without gaining weight. Well, I don't know if it's every woman's dream, but it was mine. I wanted to eat everything whenever I desired. I think I sought comfort and a certain kind of love in food. However, I didn't find that in it, and all I received in return were regrets. One doesn't realize how quickly they fall into it. Suddenly, my body changed. My mindset was entirely different, and my confidence plummeted so deep it was no longer visible. Every time I looked in the mirror, I wanted to cry. I scrutinized myself from every angle and berated myself. I hated that suddenly, clothing sizes didn't fit me as they used to. I hated food, yet I drowned in it. I covered myself up. It was a feeling of absolute failure and loss of control over myself and my life. However cliché and exaggerated it sounds, it was that way. Weight gain took a toll on my self-esteem. I stopped believing in myself, literally abandoning myself. In my mind, I saw myself ten times worse than I looked. I still remember struggling to fit into size 42 jeans in the fitting room. It broke me. It saddened me, and I went home feeling low.
I didn't tell anyone about it until now. Until this moment. I buried the fact that I despised myself and what's worse, I did nothing about it. Every day, I envisioned starting to exercise and changing my eating habits, but the thought of the long journey terrified me even more. I wanted it instantly. Preferably the next day. But that's not how it works. "What if I don't eat for a few days? That will surely help," crossed my mind several times a day. I wanted change; I longed for it so much, but I didn't know how. Sad, I went to the nearest store after work and bought a pack of sweets, which I devoured at home.
When I reflect on it, I don't even know if I enjoyed it. Maybe I just ate it to fill the emptiness I felt. Every time I overate, I punished myself.
I rushed to the bathroom, trying to push my fingers so deep that everything would come back out. I attempted these desperate acts quite often. Today, I'm glad I failed. They were cries for help from within me. I hadn't listened to myself for so long and had hurt myself. However, sometimes a person has to fall to the very bottom to bounce back. I literally fell. I felt afraid that if I didn't do something, I would never be happy again, and I would never love myself again. That fear began to outweigh my fear of eating or gaining weight.
Sometimes, I still have a bit of fear of it today; it haunts me a little.
I think I may never completely get rid of it. Being afraid to eat has become a natural part of my existence. I wonder if I ate more than I should have. Some days, I'm hungry, and I ask myself why I hurt myself. Why I compare myself to others without realizing that it's just me, and no one else. Imperfect and perfect at the same time. With or without extra pounds. I seek balance between these two worlds. I don't want to overeat and then starve. I want to eat, love myself, and live. Although I still occasionally lose my way, I always find my way back. It's pleasant to look in the mirror and not feel disgust.
Lost confidence has returned to me, which I hadn't been able to find for so long. During this bumpy journey, I realized that it's not about being relentlessly slim, athletic, or about extreme diets or starvation. It's not about what the scale shows us—it's not about that at all. It's about us, our opinion of ourselves. How we feel. The life we choose for ourselves. Our body is with us from the beginning to the end. It's worth loving. To try it and not be afraid. It's a love for a lifetime, and sometimes, we need to fight for it.
