Mirrors Are From Hell

Mirrors are a window to that which should never be seen. Maybe that's why fun houses are so popular. People love to see all of the wild and kooky images of themselves. What if those images felt more real than not? I liked going into fun houses not for fun, but because they were the only place where I could see the distorted offbeat images more liken to the self image in my mind.

There was a period of time...years, that I did not look into mirrors with exception to the bathroom mirror on the medicine cabinet. All I could see was my face. Though at the time barely tolerable it was necessary for grooming. As for the rest of me, there was no need to see that.

Today things are different. I'm able to look in the mirror whether I like what see or not. The problem for me is the urge to peek into the window of obsession. I fight the urge to look at my reflection as I pass by the mirrors in my house. Obsessing over whether or not I look like I'm loosing weight or not. Some days it looks like progress is being made, but then other day it looks like progress lost. Each day, with each pass of the mirror is another comparison. I had to make myself stop. I was starting to get depressed. So now I wisp by mirrors only stealing a glance every now and again. It's safer that way. I don't feel the weight of the burden of calculating my girth.

I'm eating well and rarely binging. I've exercised most everyday only taking a break for 2 days during a bad menstrual cycle. I continue to feel better physically and I've even received a few kind stares and a hello this week. I don't know what's better for me...seeing myself through the eyes of others or seeing myself through my minds eye in the mirror. I don't know, I guess it just depends on the day.

Bits and Pieces

My eyes are too buggy.

My forehead too big.

My hair is unruly.

It looks like a wig.

 

My breasts are not perky.

My stomach protrudes.

Thighs shaped like tree trunks.

Accompanied by dimpled glutes. 

 

My skin heavily scared,

And stretched so tight.

Over the bulky frame of my girth,

Nothing shaped quite right.

 

My feet are to small,

As if unable to stand at all.

Slightly on tippy toe,

I've learned to lean just so.

 

A lingering stare into a mirror,

Loathing every bit and part of me.

A living portrait of my own worst enemy.

What ever will become of me.

 

One day most assuredly,
I will develop a healthier perception of me.

And I will stare into that mirror...you see,

With a brand new ability to love the entire me.

 

 

 

How I Feel - 5/19/14

This is my safe place. A place of honesty and sharing. I've shown my failures and I've shared my triumphs. I've even allowed a little peek into my soul. So what's left but to say that which lies beneath the sweet façade, giving unto the things that crawleth under the skin sending one spiraling into darkness praying to survive another day...as the inevitable awaits.


I unconsciously lift my fork to my mouth. There is food there, so I eat of it. Food doesn't taste good today nor did it yesterday. I still say it feels good to have made progress, but I am still very afraid. What if I fail again? What if I go so far only to start from square one again? How sick will I get this time?


Will I ever lose this weight? How can I ever lose this weight? Stupid diets don't work! All they do is make me want to STOP...eating. I have to eat.


Sometimes I don't feel healthy enough to exercise. I feel sick and I'm always tired. I've worn myself to the core. My monsters laugh at me. They can't hurt me anymore, but that doesn't matter. I've mastered hurting myself.

How many of us suffer, unable to see past poor self image? You don't have to answer that. I bet the majority of us do. I see so many having been emotionally, mentally and physically damaged...brutally so sometimes. The suffering is beyond pandemic. We are so saturated with pain that it's almost unrecognizable...invisible. We used to overlook pain because it wasn't talked about, but now we overlook the pain because it's what we are all about. Who hasn't been affected by addiction, physical affliction, unfortunate parenting, victimization, sexual deviancy, learned behavior, narcissism, co-dependency, mental illness...whatever the.... You name it we've got it...welcome to hell.


Why do we cling to pain? I don't understand it, but I see nothing other than IT. The cycle is vicious. There are people who want to hurt people while wanting to hurt themselves because they've been hurt; but then they may choose to hurt themselves over hurting other people, because it's another way to hurt others while feeding the inherent desire to continue the hurt they've known. It's a way of getting attention. It's a way of being left alone. It's a way of screaming out loud. It's a way of keeping silent. It's a relief. It's an escape. Pain used to cope with pain...that's the name of the game...right? If pain doesn't come now...it will most assuredly come later. No one goes unscathed.


The cycle of torment spans generations. The only difference between us and them...then and now...speaking our truth out loud. Of course, there are still those who live by the old decree...what happens in this house stays in this house. Secrets and lies stacked up in closets and shoved under beds; sent of to the places of unknown. I still wonder what kinds of hell past generations have seen. What lies have been dragged into graves. My mom had secrets...lots of them. Many of which I don't know or care to remember. She knew all my dirty secrets and dared not speak of them...not even to me.


I can't get this feeling out of my head...the feeling of being leprous, undesirable...cursed. Hell's fire upon all who look upon me. I am the hunchback of Notre Dame. The one shunned and ran away from. I do not know the love others claim to know. I have been used, abused and left to wither away. People tell me I'm pretty even beautiful, but it's all an illusion. I'm hidden behind smoke and mirrors. They want to make me feel better, but I don't want them to make me feel better and if they continue trying to make me feel better than I won't allow myself to feel better at all. I can't stand the disappointment. I can't stand feeling pretty for another moment only to watch it fade away...again. I just want to be left alone. Funny...I tell others they're beautiful. I want them to believe it because I believe it. Do they really believe me or do they feel the same as I do? Am I really helping them or am I trying to help myself?


I want to be stuck in a cave far away from humanity. I want to go unseen. I want to move along the crevices of existence cloaked by the black of night. I want to be sheltered by the silence of my thoughts. They won't be silenced. I want to numb my thoughts with food, self medicated in the comfort of being uncomfortable, but I can't. My desire to do so is fading so I sit here tonight and I write, fighting to live a life that I've never lived. Tonight I sit lost in a poetic slur.

This Woman Wants to Change How All of Us Sees Our Bodies

Some lovely person posted an excellent article written in the Huffington Post entitled, "This Woman Wants to Chang How All of Us Sees Our Bodies." The article made me sit back and think about my own body image. It's not a good image, but I'm working on it. What I found most profound about the article was what, Taryn Brumfitt, The woman in the video said about her own weight loss and how she felt. After losing weight and having the perfect body Taryn didn't feel any different. She still had the same negative self image. So Taryn decided to stop trying to be perfect and embraced her natural curves. She found a way to love herself just as she was.


If you can, please take a few minutes to read this article and watch the short video that accompanies it. I think you'll enjoy it.




(you may have to double click the link below)
This Woman Wants to Change How All of Us Sees Our Bodies

Painful Image

I've been trying to write this post for two days. The subjects of body image and self-image are touchy subjects for me. I'm not one who likes to think of my image. I'd much rather hide in the shadows or blend in with the background.

That being said, I'm still not sure where to begin nor do I know where it will end. I must have started and deleted this post two or three times and I'm still struggling. I sure do use the word struggle a lot. Crap! This is complicated. Anyway, here it goes...


How does one begin to describe themselves? Which vantage point is better? As they say, there are two sides to a coin. Both sides are different, yet work in unison to create one complete coin. So, what happens when both sides are so different that they don't make a concise unit? In other words, what happens when one's body image does not match one's self-image? 


What's the difference between body image and self-image anyway?


BODY IMAGE


A subjective picture of one's own physical appearance established both by self-observation and by noting the reactions of others.


SELF IMAGE


dʒ/ The idea, conception, or mental image one has of oneself.

---

In my personal opinion, I believe we all come into existence with a clear idea of who we are and what we are meant to look like. A prime example of this is a person who feels they were born the wrong sex. They recognize this at a very early age. Clearly they have an understanding of who they are, but when they look in the mirror they don't see themselves. Instead they see someone else. They know what they see is real, but it's not right. 

My situation is different, but similar. It is not a question of identity by sex. I was born a female and know that I am supposed to be female, however, there is and always has been an image in my mind as to who I am and what I should look like. I have yet to see that image in the mirror. Therefore, I've never felt that I was fully myself. I'm more of a creation, pieced together by circumstance which making me a bit of a Frankenstein. I can't help but think of a small excerpt from one of my poems. It all makes sense now.

Look at it!

Hideous, monstrous…grotesque,


 A real life Frankenstein.

People will run and scream.

This is how I feel and at times that was my experience.

The image of me that lives in my mind is beautiful. I'm tall and voluptuous with long locks and flawless skin. I have a peaceful expression and a wealth of love that radiates from me. When I look into a mirror...I see a body ravaged by pain, patchy skin color, dim eyes, massive girth serving as a wall to keep people away, but also doubling as an ill fitted band aid. A poor attempt to cover my wounds. I see a void, a huge nothing. I feel nothing for myself. 


It is the effects of abuse that molds me and makes my image askew.


I grow angry when I think of what I perceive as should have been, as opposed to what is. I grow even angrier when I think of all that I could have been or at least have tried, but didn't because I had no support nor did I have anything left after warding off my parent's evil. Life is but a mist. I don't know how long life will be for me. I want to make the best of the time I have left. I grow weary thinking of how much time has passed and how much of that time has been wasted on survival. I haven't even begun to really live yet. I’m so very tired...


Enough with my image issues for now. I'm going to focus a little more energy on my letter to self. By the way, it's coming along well. I'm not in a place where I feel comfortable sharing the content of my letter, but I will keep you abreast of the progress and any epiphanies that come of it.


I will share this much with you today. While I was working on the letter yesterday, I began asking myself questions. I asked a particular question and answered it immediately. Only thing, it wasn't my 48 year old self that answered. It was me at the age of 4 year who spoke up. That was totally unexpected and shook me completely. I'd never heard the voice of my 4 year old self before. It wasn't an actual voice, but an internal voice. She wants to be heard...so I'm going to listen and write.


Dear God, please be with me, that I be able to withstand what I am about to endure. I've never had an experience like this before. I know that I've been trying to get inside myself and here I am. I am ready, but I am also afraid.

April 12, 2014

It’s Saturday afternoon. The weather is perfect, 80 degrees, blue skies and low humidity. I'm feeling pretty good today. I've been eating well over the past few days, sticking close to my eating schedule. I didn't eat breakfast today. Nothing's wrong, I woke up early waiting for the lawn people to come. While waiting I fell asleep and did not wake up again until after noon. I'm okay about that.


Lunch was eggs and cheese with a cup of water. Snack time was around 5pm. I ate a can of pears in extra light syrup. Dinner was a little late, right at 8pm. I ate a few pieces of smoked turkey sausage and a serving of steamed potatoes with onions and peas.


Yesterday, I stood in front of the hall mirror and took a good look at myself, a rare occurrence. My clothes looked loose on my body, but I'm still huge. I can't tell where any weight, if any, has been lost. Weight loss is not one of my current goals. Not just yet. I'm still trying to work out eating as I should during the day while keeping a close eye on night time eating behaviors. So far, so good. I could get on the scale, but I'm not quite ready for that. Maybe I should...then again maybe not...


If only it were as easy as just eating right or exercising enough or even having a healthy self-image, but it's not. There are too many layers. With every turn or epiphany there's another layer revealed. It's never ending. Am I frustrated? No, but I am intrigued. I think I'm starting to see why things of this nature can take so long and take so much effort. I never knew healing was so complex. However, on the other hand, I welcome the complexities because I'm learning a lot about myself, my abilities, and my strengths. I'm seeing my own process step-by-step as I write it out in this blog. My ability to reason things out is one of my strengths. It’s my most valuable coping mechanism aside from disassociation.


I'm thinking about doing a post on self-image. Inspiration comes from the video that I posted yesterday. I hope you guys enjoyed. I found it to be profound, a simple concept that changes lives…how ingenious. Believe it or not, I'm also still looking for inspiration as I begin working on my letter to self. One thing did come to mind. If I'm not yet able to communicate with the child self, perhaps I should approach communicating with my adult self, ultimately working my way back in time. That's doable. It will be easier this way, because I am learning to love and appreciate myself in the now so that I can feel love and compassion for myself in the past. Makes sense? Moving forward...


So what did you guys think about yesterday's post? I know it's an advertisement, but beyond that it was an inspired and inspirational concept. Seeing one's self as beautiful is simply a state of mind. Brilliant! If you did not take time to watch the video, please do and share it also. I think more women need to understand that we have to learn, even be inspired to see our own beauty. The beauty is there, even though we can't see it. Seeing our own beauty is not something that comes naturally, because we've more than likely not been around women who've projected healthy self-images. Most of our self-image issues are learned behavior. As you can see from the video, learned behavior can be undone, it's just a matter of how.


It's getting late and I'm going to watch a little tv. Tomorrow I'll continue working on my letter to self and processing my thoughts on self-image.

Happy Friday Everyone!

I've just come across a very interesting video that I want to share with you. It's short and sweet. Please take a moment to watch the video and share any thoughts you may have about it. Thank you.


Please click the link below:


What do you think of your own beauty?