A changing body, a changing mind

One of the things that really surprises me when I look back at old journal entries is how fixated I was on my body. Yes, I still have body dysmorphia and yes I still wish I could lose weight and yes I still have days where I wish I was invisible so no one would have to see me like this (meaning weight restored). But man, when I read writings like the one I'm going to share below it shocks me to see how distorted my brain used to be. For months after finishing weight restoration I was so miserable that I felt like death would be preferable to living in this new body. It makes me sad to be reminded of how hopeless I was but at the same time it is actually motivating because I NEVER want to go back to thinking like that. I'm not exactly sure why I am sharing these personal writings because if you didn't already think I'm crazy then you most certainly will after reading my psychotic thoughts. But I guess it's therapeutic for me to share where I've been because these past experiences still shape who I am becoming.



6/19/16

I am displaced. My body has been rapidly changing for 6 months and my mind can’t keep up. I don’t know how to take up so much space. My soul isn’t big enough to hold this giant being. The bones that used to keep me safe are hidden beneath layer after layer of my greatest fear. I take a deep breath but the panic is still there. I’m not ok I’m not ok I’m not ok. Breathe! For so long the emptiness of my stomach matched the emptiness of my soul. Now the incongruency is creating chaos in my head. I am trying to feed my soul but the only thing growing is this disgusting body. Please stop! I can’t stand the terror that is my constant companion, tightening my chest so I can barely breathe. I need a safe place. I no longer fit in the cave that protected me from the storms. Will I fit anywhere? What can house a giant body and a small soul? A soul so fragile, a soul that doesn’t recognize it’s own reflection, a soul that has been broken into a million tiny pieces and that’s trying to figure out which pieces to pick up and which ones to leave behind. This soul has been dormant for so long that it’s forgotten how to grow. Why are the ingredients necessary to foster internal life so elusive? Why can’t the soul learn from the body and develop a simple equation? All the body needs is food, water, and sleep. But maybe it’s not that simple. When my soul was dormant my body didn't need food. For so long it was the lack of it that kept me alive. But I was stuck in my cave, not living. Maybe I thought I was protecting what was left of my soul but in fact I was starving it. I sometimes marvel that my body survived those 22 years of torture. The resilience of the human body is unbelievable. But even more miraculous is that my soul held on even when my body and mind were ready to give up. Maybe the reason my body needed to grow was that my soul refused to be confined. It wanted more than skin and bones. So I took a chance and let my body grow. Food + water + sleep = growth. I just said the equation was simple, but I didn’t mention how hard simple can be. For 6 months living that equation has sucked the life out of my already dead soul. But that statement, albeit true, doesn’t tell the whole story. This growing body may be sucking something out of my soul, but what it’s sucking out is the darkness. And in the process it’s doing something else. All this sucking is waking up my soul. The diminishing darkness is making room for some light. The all encompassing pain of this transformative process makes it difficult for me to see anything besides my massive body. But for just a moment I see past my fear of my flesh. My soul may still be small but it’s actually grown. A lot. I may want my former body back but the truth is my soul would no longer fit. My soul needs space because it’s not done growing. My soul needs a heart that cares about more than bones and numbers. I used to be trapped in a body that had no room for anything but numbness. Now I have room for so much more. The space is uncomfortable, I don’t know how to use it yet, but I’m learning. I’m inviting people in. Right now I am miles from my family but I am closer to them than ever before. They are back in my heart. I’m holding hope. I’m starting to dream--there I am in the mountains, cuddled around the fire with my family, millions of stars lighting the sky, and I’m actually eating the s’mores. There’s room for more than my own pain. I want to help carry the hurt of those around me too. Being there for others helps me learn how to be there for myself. It helps me find love--love that rapidly expands the size of my soul. And maybe over time there will be space for new eyes. Eyes that see the beauty in this new body. Right now I can’t see that far, but that’s ok. Because now I have room to love the imperfect, the scarred, the awkward, the scared, the growing. Room to love not just the person I want to become but the person I am. Right now.