 | |||
| AFTER |
 |
| BEFORE |
I’m beginning to believe that the more calories I attempt to count, the less food I attempt to consume and the healthier I attempt to become is actually making me more anxious. My body resonates panic in a trembling state of confusion. It is confused after tapering off from 5 months of listening and responding to my body’s needs, I suddenly stopped responding accordingly and pulled it into a direction it is not ready. With each denial, I become more depressed, repressed, oppressed and more likely to succumb to my addictions, comfort food and shopping. And for what reason? In order to fit inside a superficial ideology that society has manufactured to make individuals feel unworthy of being loved.
So here I lay weak, sad and anxious trying to conform to the
“healthy weight” the WII Fit is telling me I should fall. Consumed with a need to return to the time of
yesteryear when I fit into the mold, when I had hair and oily skin, when my body
was a size four trying to alter into a size two, that was what I knew, that
body I was beginning to understand or so I thought. This new body I don’t know,
this new face with no eyebrows and minimal graying eyelashes, peach fuzz upon
my crown, 18 pounds of overweight cellulite.
I feel my head and it is weird, I touch my face and it is odd, I look at
my body and I sigh. I am angry, I am
frightened, I am helpless, I am vulnerable in ways I never imagined.
