The weight comes off, the demons come back
Well...it's happening. I have addressed my under-active thyroid, PTSD, major depression, inadequate coping skills, isolation, substance abuse, and compulsive eating...just to name a few. And as my mind has started becoming healthier so has my body.
And now I'm a teeth-grinding, insomnia-having, crying mess (not all the time...as mentioned, my coping skills are much improved). But the wicked anxiety that has grown in direct proportion to the shrinking of my waist is not something I can ignore this time around if I really care about my long-term health. And I do.
The truth is: I am deathly afraid of letting go of this safety blanket. It has served its purpose. Negative comments about my body, although still awful and hurtful, are somehow much less confronting and terrifying than appreciative/lecherous ones. I have no idea how to fend off advances without dear-in-the-headlight syndrome. Come to think of it...I never have. I hate the feeling of being totally frozen and vulnerable. I hate that I don’t know how to avoid it except to be fat (since we all know fat is generally unattractive in our society and, therefore, incites far fewer wolf-whistles and inappropriate ass-grabs).
Is this something I can learn? Well, I care about my health. Every aspect of it. So I'm going to have to. Is it totally normal to be this afraid? Yes. Does it still suck? Still yes.
Stay tuned, I'm on the hunt for some awesome resources and will share them asap!