bee tee dubs

Something I love about blogging is that you can go back and have a record of the forgotten day to day. Something I hate about blogging is that you can go back and have a record of the forgotten day to day. Get it? I’m being serious here… Doing this allows me to reflect and see how far I’ve come. But doing this also shows me how little seems to have changed and I start to abhor my “voice” because I seem very whiney. Sorry to disappoint but today’s post is more of that. I try to curb my emotions but the thing is that I am melodramatic. It’s just me being myself so if thoughts and feelings seem a bit theatrical that’s simply my natural disposition.

I had to go swimsuit shopping this weekend. Bet you know where I’m going with this. There are few things I despise more. The thing is that you kinda need a bathing suit in the Bahamas. I live in Colorado so it’s not really a wardrobe staple. To be honest this wasn’t the vacation I had planned. Don’t get me wrong I’m as excited as ever and worked hard to get to go but ideally I planned a trip that wouldn’t require showing as little skin as possible. I was intentionally avoiding the beach. All part of the more clothes good, less clothes bad mind set. Unfortunately plans changed, more on that later, and we didn’t have the time needed to go on the other trip but we’re still going somewhere and that’s what counts.

To say it was hard feels like an understatement. Of course I knew I wouldn’t be enjoying myself but I didn’t plan on having a mini breakdown that I only hope with time becomes a mini breakthrough. You know those testimonials you hear when people know it’s time for a change and become unstoppable? I hope mine comes soon. I’m waiting for my willpower to match my desire. Sure this is a physical disappointment but I think it’s a product of a lot of other things and largely a control issue. I’m unable to control me body’s overall health but can’t I at least look good? I feel broken in so many ways.

Light is piercing but darkness, well it’s a creeper and that’s exactly what it did. Disgust turned to frustration and soon brought tears and then I was just plain angry. I don’t want to promote body shamming and go on and on about it but I think we all probably struggle with it at different severity's and feeling grotesque is not a way to live. The crying advanced to sobbing. It was so much more than being uncomfortable. I sat on that cold, cramped bench and felt exhausted. I was crying because I missed my body, not some super-model-media-approved body but my body. I don’t feel like me. I cried for my youth and I cried for a lot of things I didn’t realize were bothering me at the moment. I was utterly defeated and felt caught in another cycle.

Plans to exercise, to only eat salad, and not buy new pants because the current ones don’t fit. Maybe it’ll work, maybe I’ll lapse again. It was time to retreat home so I hopped in the car for my hour drive home, cranked FUN up deafening loud and sang the entire album off key and the top of my lungs. My face wet from tears and that was it. I survived but the problem is still there and I dream of achieving my goals. I want to be able to worry about real issues and of course still have bad days but not nearly as debilitating. I long for balance and peace and acceptance of myself, from myself. That’s all I can do, make a plan and try.