Posts Tagged ‘obsession’

Just a quick post about my neurosis for the day, as my anxiety only ended moments ago and I thought I’d share with you how my neurotic mind works.

Nearly all day the bottom of my right foot has been incredibly sore.  Alternating between aching and throbbing, I spent a good part of the day obsessing about what could possibly be wrong with me.

Was it some foot ailment?  Did I have falling arches or plantar faceitis (not that I know what either of those mean, I just know that they are painful foot ailments)?  Was it a pulled muscle?  Could you even pull a muscle on the bottom of your foot?

Or was it something worse?  The bottom of your foot is related to a lot of nerves in your body, as well as having many pressure points that relieve stress and other emotional ailments.  Did the pain on the bottom of my foot mean that I had something metaphysically wrong with me?  Was my chi out of whack?  Did it signify that there was a problem deep within me that I didn’t even know about?!?!?

After considering whether or not to call a friend who is an Eastern medicine practitioner, I thought I’d wait it out.  My foot felt better when it was properly supported.  I probably just need better insoles (or to not walk around barefoot all the time).  No need to alert anyone.

I was willing to leave it at that, just grin and bear it, waiting it out, when in the hazy blue light of the tv I saw something on the ground.  It was a kind of square shadow.  Weird.

That’s when I remembered: two nights ago, in the middle of the night, half asleep, I had stepped on one of my son’s blocks that frequently dot the floor like hard little land mines.  At last I had an answer!  It was a block shaped bruise on the bottom of my foot, deep and painful.

Just one more sacrifice to the mothering gods!


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As most woman are currently, so am I: dieting.  For me it is always a struggle.  I don’t mean this purely as a physical struggle or a struggle of will.  I struggle emotionally and intellectually.

My weight problems began when I went off to college, as is the case with many women.  A combination of the fat laden foods of the dinning commons and the 1st time on my own eating schedule and decisions, along with the introduction of birth control to my body created in me an immediate weight gain.  Things didn’t improve over those for years as I began to enjoy the free flowing booze and late night drunk snacks.  My mental health also faltered, meaning I began taking various drugs to combat my illness, many of which are prone to cause weight gain.  On top of this, I had grown up in a house that was diet obsessed, weight obsessed, and filled with only health food.

As a teenager I had longed for salty chips and sweets.  I wanted meaty casseroles and ice cream.  I wanted pizza with pepperoni and extra cheese! Few of these I got, and those that I did, were few and far between.  So a part of my dietary choices in college was based on my need to rebel, to finally have all that food I had longed for.

But what was I to do with all that extra weight I was carrying around?  Diet?  I hated the idea.  I wanted to rebel further against my weight obsessed family that had created a complex in me as early as 13 that I would never be thin enough.  So my reaction was, if I would never be thin enough, why bother?  Why not embrace my fat and my food?  Why not enjoy eating and drinking instead of obsessing over every calorie that passed over my lips?

Finally I was driven to diet by a desire to fit into clothing better and to stop the barbs and insults that were thrown my way by family.  And I looked good!  I drew stares and looks wherever I went.  I was hit on everywhere from the grocery store to a standardized test for grad school (honestly, weirdest thing every).  I had cute clothes!  But my weight loss didn’t last.

The reasons for which are as plentiful as they were before.  I could easily hide behind the excuses.  I found a man who loves food as much as me!  I found a new love for cooking!  I have a syndrome that nearly guarantees being overweight!  I have battled illness after illness that have left me bloated, weak, and overweight!  Yet this is not the whole story.  I love food!  I love to eat and talk and drink and have fun revolving around these things.  So here is where we get into the greater struggles of weight and weight loss aside from the actual eating and calorie counting.

Intellectually I want to embrace my size.  I am still an attractive woman, even at 25 lbs overweight.  I want to shout that woman don’t all have to fit into the same mold.  And I am proud of the fact that certain parts of me (hips and breasts especially) will never ever fit that mold.  Not only am I 5’9″, I am also broad shouldered and literally big boned.  My wrists are only a centimeter smaller than my husbands and my fingers and palms the same size.  I dated several men whose shoulders and hips were not as broad as mine.  So I will never be a size 6.  I think I may have been that size when I was still growing at age 11.  Now, these things alone mean that I will carry extra weight, more weight than many women, even women my own height.  So why not accept that I will be overweight compared to societal standards?  Intellectually, I long to.

Yet emotionally I long to wear sheath dresses and tunic shirts, that are so popular, without looking like a sausage stuffed in its casing or, conversely,  like I’m trying to disguise a pregnancy!  I want to wear skinny jeans and bikinis and actually resemble the celebrities who model them.   Emotionally I want the same attention I got when I was skinny and single.  I want my family once and for all to stop with the weight comments!
But what will all these wants and desires garner me?  A higher shopping bill?  A larger wardrobe?  A dangerous addiction to attention?  So what is more important?  My intellect?  My emotions?  I want to feel good about myself without counting calories.  I want my feelings on my weight to stop swinging like a pendulum from content and proud to insecure and repulsed.  I want to strike a healthy weight and a healthy balance.

So for now I will diet, not for fashion or self esteem.  This time I diet for my health, although this in itself seems like an exercise in futility since I will only have to diet again and again in the future to combat the effects of my syndrome.  Or I can live with a calorie calculator in my pocket and a gym schedule in my hand.  I don’t want to be either people: the obsessed or the serial dieter.  Thus, my weight pulls not only at my body, but at my mind and my heart.  It literally weighs on me.

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