Let's talk about weight. Oh yea, I am going to go there. I have put on the lbs. since Mom died, since I started with a certain prescrip. med that shall remain nameless. Sposed to help and indeed it has. It has helped me cope with Mom's demise and death. With financial pressures our family was under, with a child who is greater than great to the left of excellent, but often times baffling.
So, this brings me back to weight. I know what to eat. I know how to work out. I was an athlete of sorts in school. I was always running in the snow, playing tennis, running track, ice skating; I was damn near good at any sport I tried. Except yoga. I sucked at that. I couldn't move my bod the way the others did and I thought the instructor was creepy. He told us to inhale salt water through one nostril and out the other. Right, as if I would want to try that. He also walked around looking at us when we were supposed to be in poses. I saw him. Cuz my eyes rarely closed during this class. I kept my eyes on that bearded instructor walking around. As if a technique was important in yoga. We were just laying there and he was watching us. Oh, I'm stalling. I'm supposed to talk about weight. Unnamed sources are telling me I need to lose weight. My mind translates that into: "You are a fat ass with no discipline." But I do have discipline. I work very hard during the day. I'm just not running and weight lifting I guess. This family member means well. He doesn't want me to die. It's not my husband by the way. He loves me no matter what I look like. So, each time I hear the "helpful" talk about my weight, or have a scale purchased for me, or have the label read on my favorite coffee creamer, I feel marginalized. I feel brutalized. I feel undermined. Of all the good I do in my life, my good features, any good deeds I do seem to be wiped off the slate because........I have gained weight. Listen, I look at it this way. Our weight is a barometer of our state of mind. It fluctuates and ebbs and flows. I am a person, not a size. I am a person, not a weight. I am not a slave to the other worldly pressures of society that tells my ass to be a size 0. In other words, I reject the help. I reject the helpful words, and I rebel. I love you all for trying I suppose. Let me find my way. Trust that I will in time, be this way.....or that way physically, and it matters so little in the scheme of life. The shell of the body. At times it encases darkness. That's what I worry about. Not the size of a thigh, but the magnitude of a dark cloud in the soul. The ebb and flow of darkness in the psyche. That's what I worry about the most, and frankly, the constructive comments and innuendos do not help the dark clouds on the rainy day inside. I have always been a big embracer of positive words towards children, and adults too. Good words add light to the darkness. Gosh, I remember every single compliment I've ever received. Those words made me feel so light and free. I suppose they validated old shaky me. Compliments. Good words. Kind comments. These are the food for the soul. Let me be healthy and free from hurtful words and deeds. Especially when it comes to my almost 50 year old body. It's taken me this far, and I think I am doing just fine.
