Every time I look into my closet, I’m ambushed. Not by the shear amount of clothes I have barreling out from behind the door, but instead by what the clothes
represent say to me.
“Remember when you could wear this without having to worry about your belly looking like a spare tire?”
“Oh, another day of wearing “fat” clothes?”
“Maybe if you lost some weight.. you would actually be able to pull these pants up over your thighs.”
Even my trusty old sweatpants: “Make sure to wear a baggy shirt so nobody else can see your muffin top”
I wish clothes didn’t exist. Well, maybe that’s not exactly what I mean.. I don’t want naked people running around 24/7. Maybe the world would be a better place if we didn’t have bodies. Instead we would be magical poofs of clouds. Haha, yup that’s a stretch. (I guess words can’t really convey my thoughts here). I just wish that all bodies were the same and that it wasn’t a competition to see who could be the prettiest, most fit, etc. etc.
I really hate picking out clothes in the morning. Or picking clothes out at any time of the day for that matter. About 10% of the time I actually feel comfortable in what I’m wearing while the other 90% I spend my entire day wanting to be alone, afraid of what people are thinking about me in their heads.
But I know (and can’t accept) what the truth is.. They don’t give a damn about what I look like or what I’m wearing.
The only people I should be concerned about are the people that I love.. and they also could care less what I look like.
So why can’t I get past this mental block? Why can’t I feel comfortable in my clothes. I know that in a medical perspective, I’m not overweight. But, I’m on the upper end of normal weight and I used to always be at the lower end of normal weight (and well into an unhealthy weight range). Why am I obsessing over weight? Why do I still feel that desire within to once again get to the unhealthy skinny weight? I understand it’s unhealthy but I don’t understand why I want to be that way.
Dieting is a trigger. Eating is a trigger. Living is a trigger. I feel like my eating disorder is so entwined in my brain that I can’t separate it’s thinking from mine. At least not right now. The best I can do right now is stick in there.. keep fighting.. not giving up.. and maybe someday, I’ll hear my own voice when I look into my closet of clothes. Not my ED’s voice.