I Hate My Body

Yet I didn't realize it, not really.  See it changed forms from the past so when I read this article talking about letting go of your health goals, I was taken aback by some of the truths that resonated with me.

In the past there was no doubting it.  Despite my lack of most memories from childhood, I know it started in late elementary school, when I felt like I was different and tried oh so hard to hide it. It progressed in many forms over the years, now I see how it all comes back to control....or at least my attempt at doing so.  In middle school there was a period when I just ate carrots for lunch.  In my head I called them "Dexatrim carrots" as they seemed to take away my appetite (as time went on I learned it was just the depression), as well as some weight.  (For the record this was the only time in my life I have had a loss of appetite - most of the time it is just the opposite.)

In High School I abused my body in countless ways, some to embarrassing to even write.  There was the brief cutting and burning, each match sizzling a piece of my skin and broken heart.  When I physically could not make myself throw-up I turned to exercise.  It is more acceptable after all.  I didn't think anything of running 5 miles on the track and then coming home to an hour of Jane Fonda workout tape.  The more the better, right?  I had no idea that exercise bulimia was even a thing.  In college, to try to reel it in a bit, I would limit myself to just 2 hours at the gym.  I have no idea why that "magic" number but in my head more than that would not be "healthy"and I needed to get control of my attempts at controlling the body that I loathed.  So two hours of penitence for as many days as I could make it work every week.  Sometimes it meant the 11pm run I had to go on, the guilt of not exercising for the day to strong.  Run or you will get fat (or am to fat).  The hate.  I don't even really like running.  There were times when it was all consuming in my thoughts, no matter how I wished and was ashamed that they were there, as really what does it even mean to eternity!

These memories, though, are so distant now.  It's like they are from a chapter of someone else's book in life, not my story.  

So when I realized I still hated my body, just in a totally different way....Usually now this looks like the anger I have towards it when yet again I'm down and it's hard to move because of my health.  When I physically just need to stay in bed, yet again.  Now that I actually want to work out, I'm lucky to be able to take a shower without needing to rest afterwords. And I get angry.  Why can't I control this body?  Control.  I can't, as hard as I try to do all the right things.  I have no ability to predict or know if I'm going to be functional during any given day.  Lately it has been less and less days.  I want to be able to parent, to support Beach to be more of who I am...yet I have no control and I hate my body.  (In having Beach read over this blog post for me, he thought hate was to strong of a word.  Maybe it is, or maybe it's just right...I'm not totally sure.) This hate seems to spill out to those around me that I love the most.

So realizing it is the first step, right?  Don't ask me how to move forward.  I have been trying hard to listen to my body, to nurture it, take care of it.  BUT the underlying reason for that is so that I can control it to do what I want.  I'm going through the motions of care but the love is not there.  It's so conditional and the anger keeps coming.

So I don't have all the wisdom to move on.  I do know that one day I will get a new body, one that is fully functional and without pain.  Until then I want my time on this spinning sphere to be filled with love, not hate.  So that is my prayer.  I know the one who loves me and can heal me by speaking a word, and while I pray that He will, I also pray that he will continue to teach me in this season.  More love Lord, help me to love.

SaveSave