I posted here for the first time six months ago. I wanted to claw the fat off my body. I wanted to lose weight FAST. I hated myself so much. I can see the self-loathing emanating from those words.
Unsurprisingly, since then, I have gained an additional seven pounds, gone up a size in clothing, and kept on eating. Knowing what I'm doing to myself, and feeling helpless to change it. I've been lonely, bored, and sad, binge-eating my way through a hundred and fifty insomniac nights.
Today, I split my pyjamas bending over in the kitchen.
I was alone. But for some reason, I was so embarrassed, I sat right down on the kitchen floor and cried.
I cried for every time someone has yelled slurs at me out of the car window. I cried for every time I held back tears in the changing room. I cried for the opportunities I've allowed to pass me by, and the dates I never went on, and the photos I'm not in because I hated my body too much. I cried for my non-existent sex life, for the shapeless clothes I wear, for the fear I feel when I go to the gym.
As I calmed down and dried my eyes, my first instinct was to open the snack cupboard, and soothe my hurt feelings. But I realised I don't want to live like this any more.
I don't want to lose weight out of self-loathing. I want to lose it out of self-love. I want to lose it, because I deserve better than binge-eating because I am lonely and sad. I want to lose it, because I deserve better than getting out of breath when I go up two flights of stairs. I want to lose it, because this extra weight represents ill-health and self-loathing. I want to lose it for me, because I deserve it.
It starts here.
[link] [comments]
source https://www.reddit.com/r/loseit/comments/oh9js2/split_my_pants_had_a_breakthrough/
No comments:
Post a Comment