I’m not quite sure what I should even title this post — it’s not a fun fictional story to write and it’s definitely not that interesting, but I guess part of having a blog is it being some sort of online journal to tell your own story? Maybe. I’m already assuming I’ll delete this post come morning anyways.
I was never really worried about body image (or health, I guess, technically) until high school when I started being bullied for my weight. I let that shit roll off my back, for the most part, because I knew when I got home those people didn’t matter. My life was a constant cycle of always looking forward to the next thing — in a few hours I’ll be home, in a couple minutes I can go to the bookstore. In hindsight it probably wasn’t the best coping mechanism but, hey, it got me through some shitty times.
It wasn’t until the winter after I graduate high school that I feel face first into major body issues and body dysmorphia (spoiler alert: I still struggle with it to this day and it’s been seven years). I got sucked into all these ideas of what I should look like and I would only have meaning, or find love, if I looked that way. It was an awful three months and I had lost like fifty pounds through really unhealthy methods.
I fought it on my own and got through it. Since then I’ve had small episodes of these bad practices but I’ve always come out on top.
Over the last few days I found not-so-pleasant thoughts sneaking into my mind about how I look and my self worth. The last two days I’ve planned healthy ways to lose weight and be more active, the whole nine yards.
Tonight, when the time came for me to go to the gym I froze. Well, I didn’t freeze at first. I spent a few hours in bed convincing myself I could go to the gym and check-in at the reception desk without an issue. I believed myself and ended up driving all the way to the gym just to sit in the parking lot for a few minutes before going home. That’s where I froze.
I was so overcome with fear and anxiety and there was no way of beating it aside from going home. From my car I looked into the gym and all I saw were beautiful, fit people and no one like me. I felt as though if I had gone in there, that in that moment, I would have been the fattest, ugliest person in there.
I’m really disappointed in myself for not being able to talk myself out of being so afraid but I’m already telling myself that tomorrow’s the day. Tomorrow I will go into the gym and do my thing and not worry about what others think.
My body is my temple and I am the rule — not my mind.