For those of you that have been following my blog for a bit, you have seen me stumble through my weight loss journey, learning things as I go and doing my best to really know who I am and succeed with losing weight – this time for keeps. As I’ve been learning and growing, each set back teaches me something. Each lesson has brought me closer to truly understanding how I got the way that I am and that knowledge has given me a road map to figure out how to get to my goal.
Today, something happened to me that was so different. So profound that I didn’t know what to do with it originally. I had the day off and decided that I deserved a lazy day. What I didn’t expect was the overwhelming wave of loneliness to hit me like a truck. I started sobbing. Not like your average sobbing, but gut wrenching, pit-of-the-stomach sobbing. It was uncontrollable and I could not stop it until it ran it’s course. In one of my very first posts, It wasn’t supposed to be like this…, I went through all of the reasons why I started this entire mission. One of the biggest issues of my failed relationship was my inability to love myself.
Many of us have self image issues, and I’m not down playing anyone’s past (or present), but my view of myself is extremely low. It’s been something that started many moons ago. Back when I was sexually assaulted at a very young age and something that continued on through being sexually assaulted again as an adult. I’ve always been overweight, even as a kid. I don’t want to get into the traumatizing situations I’ve been in due to my size — if you heard it once you’ve heard it a million times. Kids can be harsh. My point is that I’ve never had a healthy image of myself. So when I got into a relationship, I let the love that my ex had for me substitute the love that I should have had for myself.
This leads me to earlier today — during my sobbing session. I was so empty that it was a scary thought to even have. I wanted to just disappear (still want to slightly). Now that I’m single and working through all of my inner tangles, I realize that the last 10 months have been full of bravado. I have been putting on such a show to keep myself from falling apart. I’ve been through so much in life that it’s my usual reaction — suck it up and tough it out. Only now, I’m alone and I’m feeling extremely vulnerable — I don’t do vulnerable. Vulnerable isn’t even in my vocabulary.
How do I love myself? I’m not quite sure, but it’s definitely something that’s holding me back. I’m starting to have the fear that even if I were to lose weight, I wouldn’t be happy. I’ve associated my ultimate happiness with losing weight for so long that I’ve blamed all of my unhappiness on it. My fat has been my soul’s scapegoat. It’s been a way to look past the underlying issues in my life and ultimately has given me a centralized focus towards “happiness”. But darn near 60 pounds later, I’m starting to realize that I have been horribly mistaken.
I eventually will have to look myself in the face and like what I see, not aesthetically, but internally. I’m not completely sure how to do this. But I truly feel like I’m on the right track. Knowing is half of the battle, right?