perception vs reality

childhood self-image
my perception of myself as a child is that i was huge. not just pudgy & squishy, but by god a fat f*cking piece of humanity that should be hidden away from the universe. yeah, maybe my adult self is exaggerating a bit on behalf of my childhood self, except, except there's all those strong memories of self loathing & wishing that i could just-wake up thin-go to sleep forever-be normal-& all the other variations that have crossed my mind since i was about seven.

childhood reality
i was flipping through pictures yesterday ranging from my wee young toddler years all the way up to around when i was 13-14. & for the first time i really saw, i mean actually saw that i wasn't really a fat kid, not until junior high. granted i was pudgy, like the pillsbury dough boy with pigtails & glasses, but in an endearing sort of way. yeah, i could've definitely lost a few pounds & been a-ok, but i wasn't that obsese, not like some of the kids that are profiled on the talk shows "my toddler weighs 100lbs & i'll keep feeding him pizza anyway" it really wasn't until that dreadful transition from elementary to junior high that i actually blew up. & while looking at the pictures i cried. the tears actually streaming so fast down my face i could barely see.

as a kid i looked in the mirror & i really did see someone who was so huge that there was almost no hope. granted, it probably didn't help anything that my best friend was the skinniest girl in our grade, & a gymnast, & a dancer to boot. all of that aside, it didn't change the way i felt, waking up each morning, getting on the bus, & going to school. being out of breath in gym class, feeling squished & uncomfortable in my desk. all of that along with some not so encouraging messages from a few family members made me see someone with four chins who was five feet wide whenever i looked at my reflection.

no, it's not another episode of "let's blame all our problems on our rotten childhood." i am old enough to know better. & i realize that by the time i was 14-15 the decisions i was making were completely my own. i was well on my way to being an adult & i could have changed things if i had really really wanted to do so. except for, i did want to change, but i felt that i didn't deserve change.

when i was in my early teens my pediatrician made me go to a weight loss clinic. while at the clinic i saw a dietician, a physical therapist, & a psychologist. now that i work in health insurance i realize that i had a pretty sweet deal, especially since my parents didn't have to really pay anything for the appointments other than their regular premiums. but at the time i wasn't ready, i was being forced to be there. so i politely listened to what they said, then went home & did what ever i wanted. when the psychologist gave me a test to see if i was depressed i lied. the test was so see-through that i just answered it the way they wanted me to answer it, no way was i about to admit that i was so depressed that suicide was always on my mind. & that sums up the whole experience. i told them what they wanted so they'd leave me alone. & i don't think i lost a single pound. a part of me really wanted to try, to get in shape, but a larger portion of me was in such a dark place that it seemed as impossible to me as waking up one day on the moon.

i'm not sure how much it really helps me to analyze, or over analyze, my early years. except that, it may help me to figure out how to change some of these behaviors. i do know that i'm a self sabotoger. it almost seems that i have no control as i munch the reese's miniatures or drive myself through taco bell to grab a snack when i'm on my way home to have dinner. now i'm not trying to live up to the fat person cliche here, but i do know i do these things. when i'm doing well on exercising & eating right there's something in me that suddenly decides that i will simply die if i don't immediately get a king size whatchamacallit. mmmm....whatchamacallit. sounds kind of good right now.....

the sad part in all of this? right now i know that i'm sabotaging myself with my behavior. i'm very aware that what i'm doing is derailing all the hard work that i'm putting into my life. & a part of me could really give a rat's ass on the whole thing. & another part of me is so upset that diving under my down comforter & crying myself to sleep sounds like a wonderful idea. i won't even try to pretend that i have all of my shit together because that is such a bald faced lie. at one point i really thought i had all my shit together. but here's the thing, while i was working out & losing weight i didn't really figure out what caused me to sabotage myself. i never found out why i feel that i can't help myself when i'm faced with temptations. there are some days where i am SO unbelievably good at resisting whatever the nearest kryptonite is, & other days i dive head first & do the backstroke.