Wouldn’t it be great to just click your fingers and be a healthy weight- no more emotionally charged bad food choices, no more cravings for the wrong things, just a slim body and a great attitude to food and life in general?
A friend sent me some photos of a recent get-together and I was totally shocked, and as a result, full of self-loathing, when I saw just how big I am right now. There’s no nice way of saying it- I’m fat. And for some reason fatness equates to self-loathing.
I guess it’s a self esteem thing. I know that I’m responsible for my size, therefore I must be rubbish to have let myself regain so much weight. And for some reason self esteem is inextricably interwoven with how I look.
When I see a photo of myself, it is as though I am looking at myself with new eyes. The me I see in the mirror every day is nothing like the me staring back at me in those photos. And I’m sure the photos tell a much truer story than the self in the mirror.
Oh dear, how can such a small thing as seeing yourself in a photo produce such a sense of self-loathing? I really must either be very vain and place far too much importance on how I look, or I must be so un-vain that I let myself become the fat blob that I am now. I’m not sure which it is, but I no longer feel as though I have the strength to change.
Right now, I’m sat here wondering if I’ll be a fat blob for ever. A rubbish, ugly fat blob. I’m a mess. An un-motivated, stuck-in-a-rut, gluttonous mess.
That’s how I feel.
