Monday, November 26, 2012

Not Inspiring At All

At least half of my clothes don't fit me.

When I was an emaciated size 2, I convinced myself that I would never, ever, ever gain back the weight I had lost and so I got rid of almost everything I owned that was too big for me.  While I am usually such a fan of decluttering and donating, for the last few months, I have been kicking myself that I got rid of so much stuff that (whether I like it or not) I would fit into again these days.

So yeah.

Style inspiration for the season?  Not much.

I still don't like how my body looks.  I don't like what I see in the mirror.  The boy will routinely tell me to "stop mean mugging" myself in the mirror because he's a little sick and tired of me grimacing at what's looking back at me while I struggle to find clothes to wear each day.  I wind up wearing either some version of leggings and a sweater most days, or my one pair of jeans that fit, or my scrubs when I have clinical, or sweats when I just can't take it anymore and give up before I burst into tears (or after, as the case may be).

Pretty much the only time these days that I don't care what I look like in clothes is when I'm running.  Usually it's darkish, so that helps.

Sorry for the debbie downer post, you guys.  But yeah.  Sometimes recovery is awesome.  And sometimes it sucks so fucking much you want to punch it in the nads.

30 Days Hath November
Day 01: A place I'd like to travel.
Day 02: A favourite movie.
Day 03: Something I never leave the house without.
Day 04: A friend I adore.
Day 05: My hometown.
Day 06: A book I'm reading.
Day 07: A song for the day.
Day 08: Three inspirational quotes.
Day 09: A close-up of my day.
Day 10: A favourite recipe.
Day 11: Three years ago today.
Day 12: The last item I purchased.
Day 13: Something I'm proud of.
Day 14: Style inspiration for the season.


Allison the Meep said...

"sometimes it sucks so fucking much you want to punch it in the nads."


I have not been professionally diagnosed with an eating disorder or body image disorder, but I think just being a girl in this culture is enough sometimes. I really struggle with hateful thoughts about myself and how my body doesn't look at all like I want it to, and sometimes I allow it to fully ruin my day, which I then hate myself for because it's so stupid.

A friend who also struggles with her body has been talking with me about this lately, and we have both realized that nobody else sees these things but us. All the gross stuff I think about my muffin top or thighs that are just the wrong shape and hang weirdly? Nobody else sees that but me. It's such an obvious thing and almost sounds dumb to even say, but telling myself that has helped me to start a change of attitude about myself. It's such a long, long process though. I hope that when I'm old, I can be grateful for my body and appreciate how far it's gotten me.



Girl, I hear you.

And while I'm so happy and truly grateful to be breastfeeding my baby, "can I nurse in it?" is just one more awful point on the "nothing to wear" map.