I have been feeling increasingly uncomfortable in my own skin these past few months. This isn't a metaphor, not quite, because I quite literally feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I've gained nearly 20 pounds, and while that may not seem like a lot, or even be immediately noticeable to others, I can feel it every morning when I'm trying to squeeze into pants, or wondering how to hide this "life-preserver" that's appeared around my midsection.
I know how to reverse this, I know how to take care of myself, I know what I need to be eating and how I need to be moving in order to see a positive change in my shape. But I am having the hardest time being consistently kind to myself and being a cheerleader for my own team. In some aspects of life, I am doing a great job at self-love and self-support. In other aspects....I am letting myself down.
For me, this sort of behavior (whether it's overeating, or procrastinating, or letting my house get totally messy & sorta gross, etc) is self-destructive. When I am not taking care of myself--my whole self (mind, body, work, art, spirit) it manifests itself in behavior that at first seems simply indulgent ("ok, I will have some ice cream"...."nah, the dishes can wait til tomorrow"....."I don't need to start that research right now") but then quickly snowballs into self-destructive repetition. I make a good show of being a functioning adult when out "in the real world," but when in self-destruction mode, that good show really is just that: a show. The Laura Is A Functioning Adult show is actually helpful, though, because it grounds me and reminds me that I will pull out of the self-destructive behavior, that I am capable of accomplishing things, and that not all is lost.
Showing posts with label self-image. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self-image. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Sunday, October 9, 2011
On This Day In 2006
Here is my blog entry of October 9th, 2006. It is always so awesome to look back at particular moments in my struggle with depression, which began in about 1993 and peaked in the years 2000-2003, after which I entered the gradual process of shedding/overcoming/releasing my depression. This process gained momentum when I moved to NYC. That move and my time in that wonderful city was a four-year chrysalis from which I emerged, strong and certain of my forward momentum. I no longer identify with depression. Sure, I have the occasional grey day, or pockets of mood, but those are just individual moments. Now I identify with "yes" and positive expression. It's pretty fucking awesome. There have been loads of wonderful people who impacted my journey out of depression, and I am tremendously grateful for their presence on this planet and in my life. So here ya go, a little trip backwards in time to 5 years ago today.
________________________________________________________________
OCTOBER 9th, 2006
The definition of "Depress," as it reads in the American Heritage Dictionary:
de·press (d-prs) tr.v. de·pressed, de·press·ing, de·press·es
1. To lower in spirits; deject.
2. i. To cause to drop or sink; lower: The drought depressed the water level in the reservoirs. ii. To press down: Depress the space bar on a typewriter.
3. To lessen the activity or force of; weaken: feared that rising inflation would further depress the economy.
4. To lower prices in (a financial market).
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When I am depressed, it feels like I am being "pressed down," like an unseen force is pressing down upon me, sapping me of strength and causing me to be unable to rise up--to not be "pressed down." I am far more antisocial and much less talkative and more irritable during these times, because I can only ultimately name the source of the depression as being within, and then I feel MORE helpless because I do not know how to fight myself.
Thankfully, Andrew and I had a nice long talk about this on Sunday---which began as me thinking I might break up with him and ended with us still being together---that helped me snap some things into perspective. A little tough love does me good. Not to mention (and this isn't inspired by any suggestions of Andrew's, this is actually something I worked out on my own) that maybe it's time to get a little psychotherapy and perhaps look into a mild anti-depressant/anxiety reliever.
Welcome to New York?
________________________________________________________________
OCTOBER 9th, 2006
The definition of "Depress," as it reads in the American Heritage Dictionary:
de·press (d-prs) tr.v. de·pressed, de·press·ing, de·press·es
1. To lower in spirits; deject.
2. i. To cause to drop or sink; lower: The drought depressed the water level in the reservoirs. ii. To press down: Depress the space bar on a typewriter.
3. To lessen the activity or force of; weaken: feared that rising inflation would further depress the economy.
4. To lower prices in (a financial market).
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When I am depressed, it feels like I am being "pressed down," like an unseen force is pressing down upon me, sapping me of strength and causing me to be unable to rise up--to not be "pressed down." I am far more antisocial and much less talkative and more irritable during these times, because I can only ultimately name the source of the depression as being within, and then I feel MORE helpless because I do not know how to fight myself.
Thankfully, Andrew and I had a nice long talk about this on Sunday---which began as me thinking I might break up with him and ended with us still being together---that helped me snap some things into perspective. A little tough love does me good. Not to mention (and this isn't inspired by any suggestions of Andrew's, this is actually something I worked out on my own) that maybe it's time to get a little psychotherapy and perhaps look into a mild anti-depressant/anxiety reliever.
Welcome to New York?
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Tipping the scales (ish).
I definitely gained five pounds from Thanksgiving week.
No joke. If you recall, I joined the gym shortly before Thanksgiving, and at the "fitness evaluation" they make you take, I weighed in at 136. Not a number I like, but not in the dreaded 140's. For me, I associate the 140's with my last year of college. It was a number that I was proud of but not happy with, because I was still out-of-shape, with little muscle tone, and I did not feel healthy. Healthier, yes, but not healthy. When I moved to New York, the change in lifestyle and the countless miles logged walking around the city was enough to firmly push me into the 130's, but not to give me much tone, which is why I was determined to join a gym when I could one day afford it (which I did, and gained that desired tone, yadda-yadda-yadda...)
Well, I was a good girl & went to the gym 6 out of my first 10 days (starting Mon. Nov. 16th), but then lapsed on the Wed. before Thanksgiving. And proceeded to have four non-stop days of eating -- which included two full Thanksgiving dinners and one amazing Basque meal (more on that at a later date). And on that following Monday, I was at 142 lbs.
YIKES.
I haven't seen 142 in four years. So I panicked. And felt miserable for a couple of days. But continued to go to the gym. And since I know that as I'm gaining muscle, that number won't drop quickly (as muscle weighs more than fat) and since I am beginning to feel healthier, I'm keeping positive, because I know it isn't about the number, it's about how I feel. How I feel overall is glad to have the gym membership, as it not only gives me a place to work on my physical health & well-being; the workout itself tends to have a calming influence and an "un-wrinkling" effect on my psyche, regardless if the wrinkles are large or small that day.
DAMN YOU SELF IMAGE. Why must you be so....perpetual?
No joke. If you recall, I joined the gym shortly before Thanksgiving, and at the "fitness evaluation" they make you take, I weighed in at 136. Not a number I like, but not in the dreaded 140's. For me, I associate the 140's with my last year of college. It was a number that I was proud of but not happy with, because I was still out-of-shape, with little muscle tone, and I did not feel healthy. Healthier, yes, but not healthy. When I moved to New York, the change in lifestyle and the countless miles logged walking around the city was enough to firmly push me into the 130's, but not to give me much tone, which is why I was determined to join a gym when I could one day afford it (which I did, and gained that desired tone, yadda-yadda-yadda...)
Well, I was a good girl & went to the gym 6 out of my first 10 days (starting Mon. Nov. 16th), but then lapsed on the Wed. before Thanksgiving. And proceeded to have four non-stop days of eating -- which included two full Thanksgiving dinners and one amazing Basque meal (more on that at a later date). And on that following Monday, I was at 142 lbs.
YIKES.
I haven't seen 142 in four years. So I panicked. And felt miserable for a couple of days. But continued to go to the gym. And since I know that as I'm gaining muscle, that number won't drop quickly (as muscle weighs more than fat) and since I am beginning to feel healthier, I'm keeping positive, because I know it isn't about the number, it's about how I feel. How I feel overall is glad to have the gym membership, as it not only gives me a place to work on my physical health & well-being; the workout itself tends to have a calming influence and an "un-wrinkling" effect on my psyche, regardless if the wrinkles are large or small that day.
DAMN YOU SELF IMAGE. Why must you be so....perpetual?
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