Let’s Talk Loss

The following post discusses weight related issues as well as some disordered eating. If these topics are triggering for you, please do not continue.

My body has not felt like my own for about a year now. More than a year, really, but I don’t feel like being technical. I’ve mentioned before how I lost weight, and while I’m still not at the goal I wanted for myself, the getting there has been more of a challenge than I think I let myself believe it would be.

No one ever talks about the ugly side of weight loss. We see the photos of slimmed down people, and sometimes they briefly mention how hard they’ve worked, but I rarely see anyone go too far down the discussion of exactly how hard they work. I’ve been trying to lose three pounds for about four months. I’ve been in calorie deficits, and picked up my exercise, and I know how to lose those last three pounds, but it is just not happening.

This is discouraging because I still see myself as overweight. But the worst part about it all is I no longer know my body like I used to. When I was about fifty pounds heavier, I knew my limits. Now, I feel soft and squishy in places I didn’t notice before because there’s a tightness in the skin when you have so much heft. Sitting down is painful for me because my ass is disappearing and my bones touch the surface of what I’m sitting on. I jiggle when I walk, and I feel it. I’m sure I did before, but I didn’t feel it, and now that I can, I know it’s more pronounced and people can probably see it.

I can’t eat like I used to. This may be a good thing for some, but as an emotional eater, sometimes I have a painful need to binge and I can’t because I get fuller faster and the emotional satiation doesn’t happen. So I overeat anyway, and then end up wanting to vomit to relieve the pressure on my shrunken stomach.

The stretch marks on my thighs look like turkey neck skin when I scrub my body after a run, and I get grossed out with the wobble they still make when I take a powerful step because I don’t move slowly anymore. I’m not a fast person, but I became one because there’s a need to leave myself behind even more so now.

My lung capacity is greater, but I still ache and creak and I notice it more and more. Each time I have to shift myself in my seat because my knees are aching, or my hips are tighter or whatever the reason, I notice it and it angers me.

I am angry at this body. I am angry that it isn’t what I want and yet I am terrified to lose it. The continued loss of who I was, the destruction of the person I thought I was, it’s not just physical. It’s excruciating to see what I’ve limited myself to because I didn’t think I was worth the time to learn.

How many things have I shuttered closed in my head because I believed I was too fat? Too massive, too bloated, too gross to ever be considered beautiful?

I am angry at this body because it’s making me learn to love it.

Keep Breathing, That’s The Key

Inhale: two steps

Exhale: two steps

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Footsteps pounding on the pavement. It hurts a bit on the fourth minute, but the fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth are easier. By the end of it all, my lungs are full, yet empty. I breathe in and out, feeling the air expand in my chest, and the life within is foreign. The accomplishment is odd. And yet I’ve done it. I’ve finished a running goal. Now on to the next one.

I turn thirty-three at the end of this month. We’ve discussed how I struggle with enjoyment of my birthday before, but this year it’s a little harder to approach it. My brother told me a few weeks ago about the death of a young man we grew up with. This young man was my brother at one point, although we weren’t close after middle school. I have so many memories of playing, running through the neighborhood, causing chaos that only ten year olds can. His birthday is October 8th. He never made it to thirty-three.

While sometimes I feel a bit like an imposter, like it’s not fair that I get to see thirty-three but he doesn’t, it doesn’t feel right. But that doesn’t make sense, because I should see thirty-three. Ten years ago I tried to end my life. You always hear those people who come out afterward and say, “oh, think of all you’d have missed!” like that’s supposed to help you feel better. I’ve said many times on here that it doesn’t get better, it gets easier to carry. I have the mental strength of a bodybuilder on steroids, but the days when I’ve stepped on a metaphorical Lego are almost debilitating.

I would have missed graduating college. I would have missed seeing my family grow, with my sister-in-law, and then the birth of my niece. I don’t know that Caboose will ever know just how much she saves me. How she puts me back in my place. That I am important and necessary.

And I am. I am important and necessary. Not just to Caboose. Not just to my family, or my friends (more people I would have missed out on had I been successful ten years ago). I am important and necessary to myself.

Breathe in, fill your lungs. Hold the breath there until it leaves you in a rush.

Do that several more times. Do you feel it? Do you feel the life?

This is why I love running. I was terrified of it for a long time. I know that sounds so ridiculous because it’s fitness and it’s movement and good for you. But when you’ve spent so much of your life telling yourself you’re not worth the effort, all exercise feels impossible. Terrifying. Daunting. Like you’ll fail before you even start. So I gave in to that. I stopped myself before I could see what I can do.

Back in May, I couldn’t even jog a full minute. Now, I can run the full first week on the Couch to 5K program, and not be winded afterward. Do you know how utterly earth shattering that is for me?

Breathing in. Breathing out. Watching my chest rise and expand. There is life inside.

I don’t know how to be the person who can run 8 minutes. I don’t know how to like myself. I’m trying to learn, but it’s painful. It’s absolutely gut wrenching. Because now I’m seeing the bullshit. Now I see where the thought patterns begin and the ease with which they settle into my lungs. The place I freed.

Breathe in breathe out hold it don’t let go you’re okay keep breathing.

The place I will be okay. Feeling every muscle in my body, my feet on the earth through the soles of my shoes. My arms as I move, are they swinging too much? Am I too rigid? The control. I have control. I will be free. I can be free.

I just have to keep breathing.

Clifty Falls Trip, October 2018 (Long Post)

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Today is my birthday.  I love having an autumn birthday because I get to see the world at its finest, getting dressed for winter.  As a present to myself, I usually like to go hiking in one of the state parks here in Indiana where I live, but this year I decided to do something different.  I went camping by myself.  I arrived in the park on Wednesday, the 24th, and left on Saturday, the 27th.  Wednesday and Thursday were positively lovely.  I spent most of the night I arrived setting up my camp and getting my dinner sorted.  I made a tinfoil dinner, I dropped right on the embers of my fire.  I had roasted potatoes, carrots, broccoli, and some seitan sausage I made the night before.  I also added in some salt and pepper, and a seasoning blend of nutritional yeast, onion and garlic powder, and smoked paprika.  It was quite delicious.

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I usually like to go on these excursions with my brother and sister, but this time I felt the need to go by myself.  There is something incredibly freeing in wandering by yourself in nature.  It’s almost a spiritual act, but more for me it’s deeply centering.  It brings me back to a place in myself I very rarely can find.  I don’t work in a particularly straining job physically, but mentally it can be very debilitating at times.  I’ve dealt with mental illness most of my life, so having added stress can make me feel kind of hollow and like I’m floating through my interactions with people I care about, as well as not giving my best effort at a job I’m really quite good at.

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What I liked most about Clifty Falls was the depth of the canyons, and the sound of the wind in the trees.  Obviously, the canyons here are not nearly as enormous as say, the Grand Canyon, but living in a mostly flat, cornfield-filled state is sort of discouraging.  So, it was nice to be reminded that there are beautiful parts of my state.  I think it’s important to find those beautiful things about where you live.  My hometown is not exactly good for natural beauty, but there are some elements in it that are rather stunning.  Sunsets can be quite remarkable during certain parts of the year.

Clifty Falls is certainly beautiful.  I will say I prefer Turkey Run State Park, but I don’t regret going where I did.  I went hiking on Thursday, and I was not disappointed.  Well, I was about one thing, but I’ll go into that later.  It was challenging.  There was a moment where I had to stop to catch my breath–something more to do with how out of shape I am than anything–and I found myself staring out at an impressive vista of color, rock, and trees.  The sun was peeking through the clouds at just the right moment, and I felt peace for the first time in almost a year.

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One of the reasons I wanted to go by myself was so I could do a lot of thinking.  Most of it pertained to the death of my friend, Henry.  Henry died last September, and so it’d been about a year or so since he’d gone, and I hadn’t really confronted my grief about it.  It’s hard to explain how much he meant to me, because even though I didn’t ever really meet him, we wrote each other letters and spoke daily for almost ten years.  His loss is something I can’t think about for too long because it still devastates me a year later.  I know that grief is something that everyone deals with in their own way and own time, but this feels like too much for me sometimes.

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Being in the fresh air certainly helped me as I approached my grief.  I often thought about writing to Henry, especially when the moon was out Wednesday night.  He was very fond of the moon, and his nickname on forums was Moon.  I have a tattoo with a quote from one of his favorite books, Desolation Angels by Kerouac, on my left arm.  “The moon is a piece of me.”  In this way, I felt I was able to keep part of Henry with me at all times.  I didn’t end up writing anything, mostly because I was too busy trying to start fires in incredibly windy campgrounds.

I didn’t end up eating much on Friday, as it rained all day and my plan for oatmeal and a fire cooked pizza didn’t end up happening.  Next time, if I go camping, I’ll bring more ready to eat foods.  Not only was it raining, it was windy.  I remembered to pack extra socks, but I completely forgot my peanut butter.  Starting a fire was impossible on Friday, so I ate my last premade pb&j sandwich I’d brought for hiking, some granola bars, and then for dinner, I had some bread and butter because I didn’t have much else.  Frustrated by the day of rain, I went to bed and tried to sleep.  By this time, more people had arrived to the campground, so it was much noisier than the past two nights.  It made sense, as it was one of the last good camping weekends.  However, when I woke up, I heard more rain on the rain fly of my tent and decided to just pack up and go.

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I was, of course, disappointed with not being able to finish out my trip on a high note, but what I got out of this was beyond worth it.  I saw a beaver on my trek through the trees, almost slipped into a ravine–which is why I don’t recommend hiking by yourself–and I spoke to strangers along the pathways like one does in the middle of nowhere where no one knows your name.  I took several rolls of film photographs, and I fell in love again with a small part of myself that enjoys the little things in life.  That was a success for me.  The bitter part of me got slightly miffed at the small boys yelling at the top of their lungs as they explored, but I reminded myself that children should be allowed to enjoy themselves without the censure of adults.  Within reason, of course.

All in all, I say this trip was incredibly wonderful.  I hope to post some recipes soon.  I’ll try to be more diligent about food talks and fitness talks.  I threw in a little for this post so it wouldn’t be completely irrelevant, hah.

I hope you are well.  If you are struggling, please know that I believe in you to accomplish what you need to do today.