Thursday, 8 September 2011
Firstly, I just wanted to say thankyou for the lovely comments on yesterday's post. They have made me smile and cry in equal measure. You're all too kind. Truly.
Secondly, I feel I should clarify yesterday's post. I think it may have given the wrong impression, but I wanted to write it because I knew I hadn't been around much.
I know that I'm not as big as I used to be. Honestly I do. I know that the amount of weight I lost was a huge achievement and that I should be proud of myself. I also know that my weight shouldn't be the be all and end all of my happiness. And it isn't. Most of the time. Honestly, I thought I'd got to the point, back in January, when my weight was no longer an issue. For me or anyone else. I no longer felt like people saw me as "the fat girl." But I was wrong.
Wider issues that had lain dormant for a long while were triggered. And so on. And so on. Until a couple of weeks ago, when everything kind of imploded in on itself. Myself. When I'm feeling rubbish, my weight is the first thing to be affected. Because I eat rubbish. I wallow and I stop taking care of myself. I stop, shock horror, being hopelessly vain. I jest. I think.
As an example, I haven't enjoyed picking out clothes to wear for about five months. It's been a chore. I felt frumpy and fat in whatever I did choose, so I just stopped making the effort. I started wearing my glasses more. I started scraping my hair back into a ponytail. I started wearing whatever clothes made me feel least fat, whether they looked good or not.
For me, my weight and eating habits are an indication of my happiness. My increasing waistline has been a symptom of my decreasing joy and bombastic Helenism.
But there is light. This morning I woke up, put on a ridiculous pair of tights, donned a playsuit and heels and skipped off to work with a smile on my face. The playsuit is too short. It's too low cut for work. But for the first time in months, I feel like myself.
I've said that before, in hopes of forcing myself to feel like, well, myself. But this time I really do.
Posted by Helen at 5:18 p.m.