I have thought a bit about starting a blog on another site.  But to be honest, I am concerned that I won't feel as safe to talk about my self esteem and terrible scars, and body image, because I feel naked when I am talking about it with other people that haven't "been there".  

I guess having been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I remember the years I had when I was quite young (even as young as 7 years old...) wherein I had thoughts and emotions that others "couldn't relate to" - including my own mother.  

It was always very healing to come to a group for emotional illness where I could "let it all hang out".  But talking about my hanging skin, my weight gain - and my fairly young age of 31 which leaves me vulnerable is scary.  In other words, I seem to feel those same "blank stares" from others when I talk about how deeply my flappy, cellulite, very thin skinned, and often overeating body affects my self esteem.  

They were similar to the reaction I got at the water park from the two 4 year olds I was with "what IS that, auntie??".  They seemed to say straight out what my adult friend with me, of course, wouldn't say, but was probably thinking.  That my legs (especially, although my arms and other parts of my body are scarred as well, and loose), look much older, and "worse" than the average 31 year old.

This same friend has anorexia problems, so it most likely was amplified, her body hatred I don't think could even comprehend what it is like to have "my legs".  I am not sure she knew they "existed" out there.

Perhaps I just sound paranoid and self-involved, but the two four year olds didn't go up to put their hands on the "hanging dimpled fat pouches on anyone elses legs" because they hadn't seen that before.  And I was searching for a "kindred spirit" with my same skin and scars, and hanging skin (and maybe even general age so I didn't feel so terrible), and it wasn't to be found easily.

All this to say that I assumed I wasn't that extreme, until I was out practically naked (in my swimming suit) with over 2000 other women and children.  Then, just like the times I felt very strange when I brought up, in conversation with others, the anxiety I felt constantly among other people, or when I talked confidentially (with any soul who would lend an ear) about the deep dark pit of depression that robbed my attention and vitality as a young woman, I felt odd, almost "contagious", like I should be "repelled" from social contact with those who "didn't understand" because it wasn't translatable, and in that instance it also "brought them "down"". 

In such a way, I also feel that if I talk about sagging skin, about gaining over 100 lbs in three months, about, excessivly dimpled legs, about stretch marks and saggy skin all over my body (a body that has never born a child) I also hear my echo, because, like it or not PEOPLE WITH THIS BODY SCARRING TO THIS EXTREME, ARE NOT AS PREVALENT AS I HAD WISHED.  I am an EXTREME.  And as a result oftentimes the silence I feel from others as they nod but don't "get" what I am saying, amplifies my shame for ever gaining "the weight" and "ruining my looks".  

I know that is extreme phrasing, and I don't mean to be "debbie downer" at all.  My point is to purge a bit, and then to get beyond the "confession" period.  You know, the period where I come out and wear a swimsuit, the period where I talk about my eating problems, my past, my scars, my body as it is instead of pretend with smoke and mirrors that I can just keep "covered up" so I don't get rejected for the rest of my life.  Beyond that place, which like this post, might bring about other posts just as seemingly "bleak".  But the truth is, I believe the "truth" will set me free.

I don't think my extreme judgements are Truth, but I do know I have been believing them for a very long time, and as a result they have been MY truth and they are painful.

So, I hope, that if I start out telling my truth, at least getting it out so it doesn't threaten my life inside me anymore, so it's rid of it's "sting", then and only then I can look at The Truth.

All that to say, I want to blog elsewhere that might not be about gastric bypass, cause I don't want to be on a wall that isn't fitting, but this I feel the safest being here, I have extreme weight gain and loss, I have scars, I have a lot of work to do accepting myself.

Again, I would like to go elsewhere, maybe blog somewhere, but I feel panic at the thought.  It would feel like prostituting my pain out there among a sea of supermodels.  I am tired of being a "sacrifice", I want to be among "friends" who understand.  I have had SO much touble finding any, I am glad I am here, and thus a little closer among "good company".

I feel like I should be "out there", but I also need a home base before I can venture out. hmmmm...unsure of how to proceed sometimes...feel a bit alone at times...still so glad I can describe my vivid body "issues" here without feeling like a grotesque untranslatable alien.  that is huge.

praying for even more than that...for a community...for a home to heal in.

Hi,
I just finished watching 4 movies today - IN A ROW.  I don't think I have EVER done that, well at the VERY least never on my own.

I just REALLY didn't feel like going out tonight.  But that doesn't mean I didn't have my share of strange emotions. I found that I felt guilty about everything today, to a bit of an extreme.  For instance, I cancelled a hair appt for the umpteenth time, got a bit of a guilt trip, and felt terrible.  I missed my friends little girl's concert tonight, and thought and thought about it with a pit of sadness, you get the picture.

I wonder if the acupuncture I have been getting is creating some more intense emotional responses.  But nevertheless, I still didn't have much motivation to do much more than come home from work around 1, pick up friends at the airport at 3, then watch movies everytime after and in between.  

I could diagnose it as excessive and possibly a "setback" that could be detrimental, but I don't want to go overboard.  I do kinda think that it is a bit of a "dip in the road" and my head aches, which proves it isn't the healthiest activity to do 8 hours a day (staring at a screen).

But I got some little things from most of the movies, two of which addressed appearance self esteem indirectly.  They were "The truth about cats and dogs" and "Narnia: The Dawn Treador".  

Cats and dogs was about a woman who a guy is interested in, he hears her on the radio, but she hides behind a more attractive friend (tells the guy that she is her...) and gets into a jam, to avoid being rejected because she's not "outstanding".  Boy, can i relate...

The Dawn Treador, just spoke one line regarding a character whose temptation was to wish she were more beautiful, and her wish turned her into another person, and Aslan (who often is seen as the Christian Jesus) says "she erased herself by wishing that, and without her her family never would have found Narnia".  He instructed her to be more and more her, and never wish to erase herself.

I like both of these commentaries on beauty. The "Dips" in the road (hollywood/people speaking) are several other movies that sell looks alone as the 1 asset.  It's not to deny they are a "gift"?  But God makes us all different in fortune and purpose, and I choose to believe that isn't something he does to place "value" on us so we can "know who's "better" than another".  

For that sort of envy leads to a lot of pain.  And the lifegiving, healing God, promotes life, help me follow in those steps, Lord, and reject the message I hear often to "erase myself".  For that sure, if nothing else, is a horribly cruel thing to do as a response to the one who "made" me.  I wouldn't reject an artwork given to me by a child I love, how much more, does God make masterpieces, I am, in such a way, unable to be the judge I try to be.

I am beautiful, purposeful, and not "my own".  I was created.  Well done, Creator.

Gratitude today:  I am grateful today for this forum, the ability for me to write these thoughts out, and in the moments I write I find clarity in the midst of those moments.  Clarity that can lead to a "pep" talk.  A "pep" talk that turns the nebulous heavy judgment of my thoughts into a force for good and healing (ie: truth from the Creator's perspective).  I pray it touches someone else.  That would be.... - miraculous.

I realize that I am really grateful for the ability of making one choice at a time, which in turn shifts my life towards a healthier me.  

Lately I have realized that my motivation is low, that every action feels heavy and unwanted (showering, going to work, making appointments, even meeting friends).  All I want to do is have free days where I can eat, sleep, and sleep some more, THAT'S all my drive wants to do at least.

I guess it is depression, but I go to acupuncture several times a week, and it doesn't do much to change that.  I am also on some medication for depression (tho I have long given up on it being my "savior").  

And I can't really remember a time when it didn't take effort...so maybe i need to get used to it? 
So, today, I am proud of each little choice I made to move my "healthy decision" muscles over my
"just do it" instinctual normal ways. 

Choices I saw myself doing today that went "against the tide" of lazy "whatever goesness" were:
1. I got out of bed early today, showered, and did my hair (albeit it was for a guy, but nevertheless, I am proud)
2. I chose to drink water instead of an expensive, corn syrupy tea drink I "wanted".
3. I chose to eat samples at the supermarket, and buy just a banana, knowing that I had food at home I didn't need to spend money for
4. I walked 3 miles tonight, even though I "wanted" to go home and watch movies
5. As a result of the walk, I am actually tired, and am going to sleep now at 12:15, 45 minutes earlier than last night, a current record :)

So, thank God for little choices.  Amy Grant sang "it takes a little time sometimes, to get your feet back on the ground, it takes a little time sometimes to get the Titanic turned back around, it takes a little time sometimes, but baby you're not going down, it takes more than you've got right now, but give it time."

Thank you Jesus.  Amen.  :)

Gratitude today: I am grateful for the concept that inspired me today, the one that said: I can take life one choice at a time, and choose the "slightly better" choice (mostly) each time, and as a result, the "Titanic" of my life place will be turned around, and someday it will be noticeable, and it's every little choice that made the difference. I am grateful for life one choice at a time.

Hi again,
I went to a waterpark with my goddaughter today, and I was in a swimsuit.  My thighs are probably my biggest self esteem struggle when it comes to body image self-hatred.  I am a thin skinned European women, with larger hips than waist, and cellulite, with sagging skin.  

The first hard thing was coming out of the dressing room in my swimsuit.  I am 31 and I felt at least 20 years older in the way I looked than my age.  My legs flap in the wind, and they are puckered and dimpled plus have veins.  I told a friend later, it was like my tight swimsuit was holding my organs together like a corset, while everything not "bound" by my swimsuit (my legs, arms, etc.) was flapping in the wind, unraveled, and completely loose. My horror was accentuated when my friends 4 year old little girl walked over to me and put her hand on the front of my thigh (a place where there is a pouch of sagged almost bloated skin) and cupping that pocket under my waist, said, "what is that?".  My friend didn't say anything, but I knew she also had never seen me without pants covering me up, and I think she was also a bit shocked.

It hurt.  It was humbling.  I struggled with watching the other people around me with bikinis on (something I have NEVER worn before, because no matter if at times I had a decent waist, I always had thunder thighs). I saw girls sitting cross legged, in a swim suit, and some that clearly looked like they had eating disorders :(.  

I looked for others "like me" and came up feeling like a freak.  It was hard.  I feel like if someone liked me they would be trying to take advantage of me, be patronizing, etc.  I am that SURE of my unnatractiveness, and it hurts.

To me, it isn't all about losing weight anymore.  I have done a lot of that (at this point I am maybe 40 lbs over weight).  It's a little about "what's the point"?  I am hideous in my scars and sagging skin, it's over.

I went and saw a plastic surgeon last year.  Standing before him naked (a brown-haired ken doll looking doctor), he told me about my legs, he told me that he couldn't do much.  I wanted like a 'face lift' on my legs, you know pull up the sagginess, and thus smooth out the cellulite, and he told me that doesn't really exist, cause gravity pulls it down, and would rip open the scars if that did exist.  My legs could be vacuumed a bit of extra fat, but the skin is here to stay.  ouch.

He said he could give me a breast lift, but i didn't want the anchor scar.  The only option away from the anchor scar was to have implants added.  My skin is too thin for implants, they would separate, and need to be replaced in 10 years, not probable, what would i do then, at 41, implants again, and again, and again?  seems crazy.

My arms, I am still considering, and my stomach needs it.  But they aren't the things I feel the absolute worst over, my legs, butt, breasts, arms, then stomach are the order of how I am bugged by the skin.  I gain weight in my legs, not stomach.  Well I used to.

Either way, I realized my skin is too thin for plastic surgery options to really "make me beautiful" (ie: not cottage cheeze lumpy, and flappy, vericose veiny, etc.) again.  I told my friend about the implants that it would be like "why put beautiful gold-plated door handles on a junk-car."  That's how I feel. It would look ridiculous, just a drop in the bucket compared to facing the facts that my skin is loose, and hanging, and men don't look at it much.

I know I suffer with a lot of strong fear and shame in my stomach when I address these things, so that is why I am here.  This may seem like a "pessimistic" vent, but it is a beginning to healing.  

Tough day, but I actually, by the end, had healing in seeing how my 4 year old little companions kept wanting to touch my thighs.  There was something jiggly, and interesting about them compared to the skinny ones around them, and they liked them.  In some ways, that made me feel beautiful.