Self-Loathing

**WARNING: The following may make the score: Auburn, 1, Depression, 1. But I've gotta get this out of my system**

The past couple of weeks have been weeks of self-loathing. As much as I have tried to fight these thoughts, they keep swirling in my head, and I've just got to vomit them up here, like poison. I just can't hold it in any longer.

I think I sometimes hate the person I have become. I had dreams ... and goals ... and my whole life was mapped out in front of me. It was so easy; it was only a matter of getting there. I'm not sure where things went wrong ... I only know that they have. And I beat myself up for it.

I hate the girl that I see in the mirror. I used to love to have pictures taken of me. I used to love to go clothes shopping. Now I wear clothes that fit and don't even care if they match. I cannot wait for the winter to come so that I may wear thick ridiculous clothes and hide myself. I want to disappear. I want to hide so that no one will see me.

If I was to turn into an animal today, I think I would be a mouse. Too timid, too shy to take charge of my own life. Abhorred by everyone, I scurry around in a mad dash of pseudo-productivity. I steal any dirty little tasty tidbit I can come across and hide in dark shadows, munching alone. My sole purpose in life is apparently to pack on the pounds and to hide from everyone, including myself.

I want to lose weight, and I've been trying to lose weight, but something is wrong. It's not coming off. I have let that voice inside of me tell me that I'm doomed, that I can't fix this. I've been trapped into too many social obligations where I must eat fattening food, and as I wolf it down as fast as I can so that it's over, I hear a husky whisper inside my head chortling, "Go on, you fat pig. Keep it up. It's what you deserve."

Panic.

Anxiety.

Fear.

Dejection.

Lonliness.

And I eat. And I eat. And I eat. Trying to fill that hole in my heart. That hole eaten away by cancerous thoughts.

I find myself recoiling from success stories, angry and bitter ... at myself, I guess. I want to work hard and lose 4 pounds in a week, too! I want to work hard all week and then blow it for an afternoon and still lose 2 pounds, too! I want to be like my sister-in-law whom I sat next to in church yesterday, who looks so healthy and beautiful in an effortless manner -- I think the diameter of both of her thighs maybe equaled the diameter of one of mine. I hated myself for it. I want to succeed! I'm so ANGRY at myself for not succeeding! But I don't know what to do!

I feel so pitifully alone and like the fattest person I know. I don't want to go anywhere. I don't want to see anyone. I don't want to live life. I feel trapped.

I have a memory that has floated to the top of my mind for the last several days. There was a cow that Phil and I used to have named Smut. Smut accidentally fell in a ditch and her head was downhill (meaning that all the blood rushed to her head); she couldn't get up by herself and was stuck for a couple of days before we found her. Even though she was still alive, she had already started to bloat up, like dead animals will do. After my husband and I dragged her out into the field, Phil grabbed all of our needles out of the truck (that we use to administer shots to the cows) and stuck the needle-ends into her side. Then, he and I pushed all of the air out of her stomach, slowly and meticulously, through the needles. The smell was awful (for, she had literally been rotting inside while she was still alive), but she almost reduced her size by half. I wish it was that easy, that someone would stick a whole bunch of needles in me and push out all of my extra weight. (Incidentally, two days later, Smut was still alive, but she was seizuring on the ground and in tremendous pain, having never been able to get back up, and she was the first cow Phil ever had to put down.) Sometimes I feel as sick as Smut was, and yet, just like Smut, I've done it to myself.

Guilt.

Pain.

Anger.

Shame.

I can't give up. I won't give up. But when will it end? How do I fix this? If I could just see a loss, I wouldn't feel such hopelessness. I must be patient and give it time. I must adhere to my food diary.

I seriously need help.

Please help me.

4 comments:

  1. First of all,

    H UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU G

    Reread as many times as necessary.

    I wish I knew something awesome to say that could just zap all that yuckiness right out of your heart. But I've been there. I KNOW how crippling it is.

    This IS me, part of me, that will never go away. I can explain some of the things in my life that made me a pitiful self-loathing wreck of a person...but a lot of it was a decision my mind and my emotions made without consulting me! And once you're spiraling it's so hard, feels so impossible to start making and keep making all those decisions that repair how you feel about yourself.

    I wish I could explain to you how I fixed this. I can look back and see how some of it was time mending me, and some of it was cutting poisonous people out of my life...and then accepting their absence. But a lot of it was a mysterious switch flipping in my brain, turning on the part of me that wanted things, that wasn't scared of goals. It was a very small part of me at first, but once I made myself listen to its little voice and started doing what it wanted...it got bigger.

    And now when the gross mean poison part starts to yell at me, and pick away at the things I'm proud of, and wants to drown out anything I've learned to tell myself, that happy voice is a little bit louder, a little bit stronger to yell back. And the more I listen to the happy voice, and the more I stick to doing the things that make it big and strong, the better chance it has of winning against the hateful voice.

    I KNOW that it doesn't necessarily work to go for a walk or take a bath or book a spa day or any of the other things well-intentioned people suggest. I KNOW how it's almost impossible to keep doing the next right thing when all you want to do is crawl into a big pile of food so no one can see you. So I'm not going to say chipper little asinine things that will make you want to throw the entire self-improvement section of the bookstore at me.

    But I CAN advise you to take a close look at your life and your situations and see if there's anything not inside yourself that's poisoning you, and remove it. And look to see if there's anything inside or outside yourself that DOES make you feel proud and alive, and indulge it.

    And beyond that, just grit your teeth, because it will get better. IT WILL GET BETTER. This is the chemicals in your body and your learned mental mechanisms betraying you, and this dark dark time will pass. IT WILL. It doesn't feel like it will, but it will. Just keep reminding yourself of that. It's chemicals, it's emotional habits that have worn deep grooves, and when the chemicals ease up for a bit, things will get brighter, and you'll be better able to get back to work on the goals you've set and the things you enjoy - and that will make you stronger for the next time the dark crashes down on you.

    So just remind yourself that this will pass. It will pass. And grab on to anything or anyone that does stay shiny in the dark days. And do what you have to do to survive this and get better.

    Sorry if I've been rambling - my heart totally goes out to you because I've lived exactly what you're describing so many times. I hate that I don't have a better solution for you. But hang on. Hang on. Hang on. Because once you get a little toehold against the hateful voice, once that ounce of motivation perks up in your brain and lets you set a goal and hope for something, grab on to that and run.

    Because the more you hang on, the more you dare to hope for yourself, the stronger you get, and the closer you are to retraining the hateful voice. To drowning it out.

    So hang on and keep blogging it out, or talking to someone, and don't you dare not ignore the things we're telling you about how strong you are and how amazing you are and how much you deserve good things and how possible it is to get past this. Even if it doesn't FEEL like we can be right...we are right. So hold on to it with some part of your mind.

    <3

     
  2. holy toledo...sorry I wrote you a book...

     
  3. You are not alone. I was over 400 pounds when I started. Let me be graphic and say that I could barely wipe my own butt after toileting and could no longer use tampons -- I couldn't reach! I had to pay for two airline seats when I flew to South Dakota in July. I could go on and on but I think I have grossed people out enough.

    We don't get in this condition overnight and we aren't going to get out of it overnight either.

    I still have a long way to go but most days, I feel a lot better about myself than I used to.

    Reading people's blogs helps me, as does writing in my own. I Wish I had some meaningful phrase or secret that I could share with you to help you through the difficult times - but I don't.

    For months I went through the motions and didn't really believe that I could ever be fit. I am finally starting to believe now and hope that you can too.

    xo
    Lori-Ann

     
  4. A HUGE HUG from me too for starters!!

    I am totally brain fried after my very long and emotionally draining weekend, so I may come back and leave a proper comment later.

    But for now, I just wanted you to know that you are NOT alone. I have been there and can totally relate. And I agree with everything else everyone has said in comments thus far.

    This was a heart wrenching post to read, and I am sure it was not easy for you to write. Very well written nonetheless.

    Yep, I'll be back when I can make some actual sense.

    Hugs in the meantime, and please remember I'm here for you. We're ALL here for you! And it will get better.