Scarlet had an episode this week that has me secretly dreading my trip home.
I love my family...more than I ever have in my life I think. Considering how my teen years were spent waiting for my escape (adulthood). But I digress. Like any family with multiple siblings there is a fair amount of joshing and teasing. I try not to ever be MEAN with mine..good natured ribbing brings us all closer. BUT .....
I have some relatives that are not so sweet. I have had a weight problem my entire life. Would it have become such a problem WITHOUT the teasing? I can't say. I do know that being called Porky when I was 13 was NOT a self esteem builder. The only time I have gotten compliments from this person is when I was thin. Weight and food issues remained his weapons of choice throughout my teens and early adulthood. He is not the only one. My dad has made comments before (being helpful..as if I don't KNOW I have weight problems) and I recall that when I was a size 9 my mom commented to my aunt that I had no ankles. I had NO IDEA I had thick ankles..who thinks of this shit?? So...here I am...... on the raggedy edge ......having nighmares about being a fat cow with cankles (calves and ankles that merge with no real definition). If it weren't for the dreams I probably wouldn't even be commenting on this here.
I had a good run of weight loss in the Fall and early winter. Size 16 was comfy and even getting a bit loose in some brands of clothes. Then later in the winter and spring I got very low...SAD and depression ganged up on me, the diet went out the window and I began the ol' self medicating with food. Its like when an alcoholic falls off the wagon or when an ex-smoker starts up again.....the addiction demon just gets stronger every time. In my case with visible results. My clothes have gotten tight again. I'm having to consider moving up a size...the bathing suit that I finally found to suit me, albeit loosely, is a 20 (18 would have been perfect but apparently all my size sisters have been suit shopping this year and there are few if any 18s to be found).
I have good friends and family that love me and consider me pretty. One good friend who has had issues similar to mine with weight and self esteem and IS very pretty calls me beautiful. I look and I see a big belly wobbly arms and legs and a recipe for early death.
And I dread the comments on my downfall. They don't have to be at me...I know that they will exist amongst a select few. That is all it takes. Knowing. No bliss to be had.