Ok, this may be the one that you don't want to read. It is not going to be graphic or anything, but if you don't want to be confronted with the truth that Matthew and I have sex then you need to know that I am going to go in that direction. It is time for me to sort through that aspect of my downward spiral.
So I am in the midst of this cycle of eating and feeling bad about myself. I cant really even be honest with me about what i am doing to myself... How can I possibly be honest with what I am doing to Matthew? Please understand that I love my husband more than my own life, but how can I think that means very much when I treat my body (and in doing so, my own life) with such disrespect? If there is one person in this world who truly accepted my for who I am, no matter my size, it was, and still is, Matthew. I know that he wants me to be healthy, and he wants me to be happy, and he knows that I am neither of those things. It was only until recently that he has really expressed any desire for me to lose weight, and that was only because he knew that I wanted to and he would support me no matter what. This isn't the problem.
The problem lies with me. If I couldn't love myself, how was I to expect that anyone else could love me? If I was disgusted by how I looked, how could he not be? So when he told me that I was pretty or sexy...I didn't believe that he meant it. I flat out didn't believe him. So I would laugh when he said it, or would brush it off as nonsense. It hurts me to think about what that was doing to him. I mean if every time I said something, the person I loved basically called me a liar, I would just stop saying it. And so he did. There was a wall between us that my insecurities and self hatred built up. Last month, on our 10th anniversary, the wall that I constructed, that I had built brick by self hating brick pushed him away. He said it wasn't me, and that he needed a break...but I knew. I knew what I had done. I let my weight come between me and the one person who never cared what I looked like. I know that I have been going through this transformation for a couple months by that point, but it was all outward. I didn't dare take the risk to open the floodgates and examine the deeper wounds...
That is why I have started this series, to examine those things that have brought me to the lowest place of my life. I thought he was going to leave. I had pushed him away one too many times. I didn't blame him, but I also wasn't going to give up without a fight. So here I am trying to find out why I am so convinced that no one could possibly love me. The logical part of my brain knows that that is not true, but logic didn't get me to 286 pounds. There I said it. Out loud. Now you know. 14 pounds shy of 300. That is where all this self loathing has gotten me. To a point where I didn't want my husband to touch me. To touch this disgusting body. I would cringe. Cringe when my husband would touch me. How did I expect a marriage to survive that? It wasn't. It wasn't surviving, it was barely even a marriage. We were roommates. Roommates who had a kid together. I wasn't happy and I guess I was hellbent on making sure no one else was either.
I am happy to report that a month later, we are doing much better, because I feel better about myself. I am proud of the work I have done so far. And it isn't even that I look better... to be honest, I don't really even see it yet. I look in the mirror and I still see the same person I always saw. But it is the way I FEEL. When I push on and do 3 miles instead of just 2. When I am satified with a piece of salmon and some asparagus instead of cheesey pasta and 3 brownies, one after supper and two more when no one was looking. These are things that I am proud of. And though I can't stand in front of the mirror and look myself in the eye and say "I am happy." or "You ARE beautiful." or "I am SO worth this!" I can say "I am happier." or "I feel better" or "Yes, I can do this" and those are huge steps forward, and tiny steps away from the others.
I am ok with Matthew touching me. I have even learned to let go of my insecurities and enjoy it again. I know he is still leery that I will push him away again and patch up the wall, but I am tearing that down brick by confident brick, because I don't need to protect myself from him. I never needed to, I only THOUGHT I did. What I needed protection from was myself. So I am going to tear down this wall, bask in the figurative calories burned while I do it, I am going to grab on to his hand and hold on with all I am and take him along with me on this journey. I know he will pick me up when I fall. I know he will celebrate my victories, and he will help me to see that my setbacks aren't so bad after all. He will push me when I want to give up and he will love me even when I cant find the strength to love myself. And in the end, he will be there to show me that I was worth it all along. I just needed to see what he sees.
Maybe I am starting to.
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