I think this post may be a bit of a scrambled rant, and those readers who know me personally will recognise the constant going off topic and the pauses mid sentence when I have forgotten what I was saying!!!
This is something I had difficulties with during recovery and still do now. Now I know some off us may need to lose a few pounds, may need to eat healthier and exercise more, but is it really necessary to have a daily berating session over the size of your stomach, hips and bum!!! It appears to be a socially accepted norm to have the 'Im fat, no your not,' conversations. I try to steer clear, wanting to pull my hair out and scream at these beautiful not overweight women who at times make me feel huge!!
I went out at the weekend to celebrate a friends Birthday. A group of us decided to stay overnight in Bristol, so apartment sorted, posh frocks on we hit the city centre for dinner and a club. Long story short one of the prettiest girls both inside and out was again slagging off her (very flat) stomach...aagghhhhhhh Oh please girl, take a look in the mirror...
This set me on edge straight away, I was comparing her legs to mine, who's were thinner? How much was she eating and to make matters worse some young lad asked me if I was my mates Mother!!! It was like being kicked in the teeth (actually I had rotten toothache after 4 fillings and an extraction.)
At that point I wanted to leave, I felt bloody old but that just made it worse. But I didn't leave, I did what any self respecting 44 year old would do...have a couple of shots of cherry sourz and get pole dancing :)
I do hope that my marks and Spencer magic knickers were not on display!!
So to round up, ladies stop damaging your self esteem and those around you, ditch the fat talk and love the skin your in...I try to. (or you could just mount a pole)
Going completely off topic..well just a bit, I came across an old diary which I had started (and finished!!) last August and September. It was written whilst I was in the throes of my ED and I hardly recognised the content. Not only can I not remember writing it but I could not recognise myself in it. Who was this frail, scared person trying to find some light through the darkness? It certainly didn't sound like me. Although at times painful it still had a glint of humour, the real me trying to escape. The food diary was shockingly sparse, and If I'm truthful It was probably exaggerated to look better with the therapist! Thank goodness I don't write one now as I would need a bigger book :)
Nite all. xxxx