Whew!
Shortly after my last post, I had my temp bridge installed, 2 1/2 hours of misery in the chair. Then a whirlwind week of volunteer costuming and cosplay stuff and medical appointments for the kid. Then my temp bridge broke, and I got it fixed, and then it broke again, and then I got it fixed again.
I find dentistry physically exhausting. I have been so drained. Having difficulty eating and waking up in the night from pain haven’t helped.
Anyway I haven’t been eating well or exercising at all and my pants are getting tight and I don’t like it.
So here comes a ramble...
So much of my childhood was spent being told I was wrong/inadequate/etc. by people who were a) smugly self-righteous and b) unable to recognize the consequences of their own actions, and almost confused by their situation as a result. The hypocrisy in these people was astounding.
In early adulthood I ended up with a few friends who were similar—judgmental, unhappy, continually shooting themselves in the foot with their bad decisions—because that style of relationship was what was familiar. My comfort zone, even though it made me uncomfortable.
I also developed a bad habit of shrinking away from people/situations where criticism was a possibility (e.g. not wanting to go to the dentist for fear they’d yell at me for not coming in sooner).
Sort of a pendulum between running towards those situations and running away from them.
Part of that is also getting hooked on trainwrecky internet people, and then eventually waking up that following the foibles of the unstable and un-self-aware is not serving me.
Thus my weird fascination with the body positivity movement. Which I’m not allowed to be part of because I’m not big enough, which I sometimes believe when I’m home alone in my room, but after decades of being called fat, that’s how I feel when I’m out and about and comparing myself unfavourably to everyone within sight. But I’m not supposed to do that because I’m supposed to accept myself for who I am, just pretend those decades of criticism never happened.
I recently fell down this rabbit hole again—see above re not taking care of myself lately—and discovered the world of “midsize.” Midsize people are not supposed to call themselves fat, because that diminishes the experiences of actual fat people. But by not calling themselves fat, they are also perpetuating fatphobia by distancing themselves from “those people.” Contradictory? Yes, but both those conflicting ideas are from the same writer.
And not gonna lie—I love it! A weird part of me loves being told that whatever I do is wrong, because that’s what I grew up with! It’s my uncomfortable comfort zone!
Anyway just saying it all out loud here, because in order to stop falling into these habits that are bad for my mental and physical health, I need to recognize what is happening and why. So I can say, “Oh, I’m doing it again, I’m focussing on x because it reminds me of y, and that was an unhappy relationship that I don’t want to recreate.”
Anyway.
I’m back to trying to take care of myself, finding things that I can eat that won’t break my teeth. Today: banana and yogurt for breakfast; salad with shredded chicken thigh, chopped dried mango, carefully chopped and picked over walnuts, very thinly sliced celery, lettuce, and curry mayo for lunch; tonight will be a kind of gross looking but tasty concoction: nachos minus nachos, aka ground beef with avocado, shredded cheese, salsa, and sour cream. Only including a pic of the salad because it’s at least a little pretty.
