Whew, I am about to divulge my dirty little secret over the Interweb – something that only my darling Hubby knows about. I remember a long time ago, someone told me that secrets were like fungus. They grow and multiply and become strong in the dark. However, bring them into the light, and all of sudden they lose their power, become weak and lose their control. This is what I hope to do.
It’s not a bad secret – I’m not an alcoholic, or a druggie, or anything like that. But, I suffer from severe anxiety. There I’ve said it. It’s true. In my life, I have been so afraid of death, that I was too scared to go to sleep in case I didn’t wake up the next morning. Then there are the social functions that leave me feeling literally quite ill – all social functions, but especially those where I will meet new people and be expected to interact with them. Then there is my fear of dogs, doing new things, being a mom, eating at a restaurant, etc, etc. My life, generally, is filled with fear.
Now, my latest anxiety involves my weight. Not, being overweight, but rather being too skinny. You see, I have always been a terribly skinny person – naturally so. My mom, who in her 60’s and after having three children, is skinnier than what I am, so is my younger brother. So, is my mom’s sister and her daughter. It’s a family thing. But, all my life I have been teased and taunted in the most ugly way about my weight, “My God, you’re so skinny, you look awful”, “You must be anorexic”, “You must eat, look at you, you look sick”, – like any of these comments would help me if I really did have a problem (honestly, people don’t think before they speak).
Anyway, to put it all out there, all through high school, I weighed 48 kg‘s. When I got married 11 years ago, I weighed about 54 kg’s. Then, having a good married life, allowed me to put on some more weight, and in 2008, I weighed 58 kg’s (10 kg’s more than what I weighed throughout High School). That was the year I miscarried, and because of the trauma and everything that surrounded that experience, I lost a bit of weight. When I fell pregnant with Baby Girl in 2008, I weighed 56 kg’s. I looked great. Even now, looking at photos of myself at that time, I really did look good. My body shape suited me perfectly.
Being pregnant with Baby Girl, I gained 30 kg’s. You see, I remember distinctly having this thought when I found out I was pregnant that I now had the opportunity of gaining some weight to stop people being so ugly to me. And that thought has stuck. Now, I can’t lose the weight.
I get filled with severe anxiety every time I think I’m getting too skinny. But, here’s the glitch – I still have 4 kg’s to go before I am back down to 58 kg’s (not even the 56 I was when I fell pregnant). So, why does this fill me with such anxiety? Well, because its out there – people judge you by your weight. If you’re obese, it’s this. If you’re too skinny, it’s that. I honestly wish people would leave me alone when it comes to this issue of my weight.
So, the result? I am almost force feeding myself to keep my weight up. I have this mental war going on – yes, I can lose the weight. Drop a kg or two, panic and fear I’m getting to skinny, force feed myself to pick up weight. Yes, I can lose the weight and so the cycle goes on and on and on.
The problem is this – Baby Girl, in all honesty, will probably be naturally skinny as well. So, what am I teaching her about accepting who she is, if I allow panic and fear to dictate what I weigh? And other people? I know that weighing 62 kg’s isn’t allot, I mean I am of a normal weight now, but I still can’t put my wedding ring on, and I’m still wearing my mother’s clothes (my mother, bless her soul, does not throw anything out, and she’s got a whole wardrobe of what she calls her “fat clothes” which is what I am now wearing). I would so love to get my wedding ring back on my finger – I miss it. And I would so love to get into my own clothes, but I allow fear to dictate what I shall weigh – all because of comments made about my weight by well-meaning people in the past (or well, perhaps they weren’t that well-meaning after all, and I could detect that…)
You see, it’s not that I can’t or don’t want to lose the weight. It’s that I’m too scared to. How warped is that? I keep telling myself, for my body and BMI, I should weigh between 52 and 58, so 58 is the top of my BMI so I could quite easily lose the 4 kg’s without worrying about being too skinny. It doesn’t work. Nothing I tell myself about losing this weight works.
I’m now hoping that by putting this out there in the most honest way possible, this little secret won’t be able to grow in the dark anymore.
The Baby Mama