April 8, 2011 § Leave a comment
Another session, more reality. This time it was easier to deal with, the numbers on the scale are not what I wish to see but they are a small (or large) measure of how I have slipped off the path I thought I was on. This year has flown. I am stranded as the year changed, in the back end of 2010. Thin, unhappy, keeping smiling but feeling cut open by people I trusted, strangers and shame.
Without my noticing, months have passed (more than three of them) and I don’t remember what has happened in that time. Glimmers of change, monotony hiding what has changed and spread and grown under hemlines, but also two months of love which I hold high over my head and out of the water as the best thing I own right now and a reason to wade out of this.
The first time she weighed me, I had no context for that number as I couldn’t remember the last time I’d stepped on a scale. The only target I have is something I’ve seen only a couple of times. Somehow, I know that goal is not a real number but I like single figures and a big .0 at the end. It feels safe and controlled. Even though I know there’s a point at which my skin suffers and my breasts disappear completely and my scapula appear. Even then, there are areas I would shave off. Excesses I could donate. More and more pounds of flesh but never enough.
I am petrified of wanting that.
I am petrified of the selfish little thrill of delight at knowing that what I dream of would be deemed ‘unhealthy’.
I hate that person as much as the one who sits here feeling fat.
This morning, I woke early with a clear head and I imagined another future. Perhaps I could find a way to keep this clear head. Maybe I can find a way to keep connected with the numbers. Stop myself drifting so far and avoid this fuzzy area where I want two entirely irreconcilable things at once.