I got home at 9 last night. Did I tell you that during the weekend Vangelis and Sofia moved to their new home? I was in their house from Friday afternoon packing and carrying and it was such a hard work that almost ended Sunday night, that almost made me reconsider moving myself...lol. So yesterday after work I went by their house to help with some stuff and get some more boxes to use for our move.
Angelos came to pick me up and I asked him if he minded me spending some time alone in my study while he watched some TV. Luckily, he was feeling like watching TV and he said if I cook him something nice he would not mind being alone.
Pork chops with basil pesto rice afterwards, I was sitting in my study. Now, you got to understand that our appartment is full of empty boxes. Our clothes are scattered everywhere. We clean the bathroom and the kitchen, we sort of tidy our bedroom, and this is it, the rest is chaos. We both feel as if this is a large hotel room and not our home anymore. Strange. So I had the light off, in an attempt to not see the mess surrounding me, and the pc on.
I tried really hard to think of my goals. My rewards. Things I want to achieve. I tried really hard to find ways to motivate me. I could not. I got up to go to the kitchen to get some more ice for my drink. Now that is summer I am again addicted to scented water. Try it if you want to increase your water intake. Take a big jar, fill it with water and ice, and add any of the following: slices of orange, fresh basil leaves, fresh mint leaves.
Anyway, as I was walking past my open closet, I got a glimpse of myself in my underwear. I stopped and looked more closely. I half closed my eyes and could see my figure only.It was darkish with just the light of the pc screen. I was pleased. Well proportioned. This has always saved me, even in my highest weight, I had a well defined waist.
Then I turned the light on. Now this was not as good a feeling as before. The flaws were brightly enlightened. I felt what I fight for so long. A deep disappointment. The truth is that it really aches to see the damage in my body. I used to be so fit. You have heard me before complaining about the stretch marks and the cellulite and the looseness and and and. This is what I do lately, complain, feel the disappointment, and then pack these feelings and hide them somewhere, pretending I forget them.
Yesterday, I took them to extremes. I begun to grab, squeeze, pinch, you name it my flesh. My thighs. My arms. My belly. My breasts. I made my cellulite more visible. I smoothened my skin with my fingers to see each and every stretchmark. I pressed my skin around my belly closer to see the loose skin more freakinshly.
I did not do all this with detest or disgust. I was getting really aquainted with them all. Deeply aknowledging them. And then I had a brilliant idea.
I looked for my red sating fat pants. Elastic waist of course. And the red coat most of you have seen in my before pic. And put them on. And then, took some lengths or rope (cos our house besides being full of boxes is full of all moving accesories: ropes, duck tapes, packing papers, etc) and I took tshirts and socks and undies and you name it and I wrapped them around my body so that I could fit into these clothes. I became my old 130 kilos me again. I looked funny. You could see a small head and a small neck getting out of these clothes. And then I went to the living room where Angelos was watching a film, and stood there.
He was shocked. He was looking at me and was speechless. All he managed to whisper was: You were never that big in my eyes, but honey, do you see what I see? You look enormous with these clothes!
Pictures never have this effect you know. Pictures never give you the feeling back. Pictures cannot make it hard for you to bend. I could not bend easily yesterday because of my stuffed stomach and belly. I could not reach my toes.
I returned to my study with a feeling of extreme pride. I felt so proud of my accomplishment. As I stood in front of the mirror, untying the layers of clothing from my thighs, I felt tears falling from my eyes. For each cut rope and each tshirt falling off me, I felt my past dropping on the floor. It was like I was watching scenes from childhood, from teenagehood. But when I was done and was again left in my underwear, I felt as if I was more naked than my bare flesh. Strange feeling really, but I felt really very vulnerable.
I sat down and closed my eyes and breathed deep, like I do in my therapy sessions, and tried to exagerate the feeling I was having. It is a technique we use a lot with my therapist. I was feeling more and more vulnerable, till I felt fear. And I begun to ask questions to myself. These are the questions I wrote down on a piece of paper last night:
Why are you afraid?
What are you afraid of?
Why you feel this now, after "re-producing" your lost fat?
What else do you feel you have lost along with this fat that you have not yet admitted to yourself?
What is the fat protecting you from?
Are you ready to trust life so that you need no more of this kind of protection?
What is that you need to feel safe about so that you let the remainin fat go?
What do you gain by staying in this weight?
What do you think you will loose if you loose the rest of this fat?
Last night I did not get my motivation back. Nor I replied to these questions. Being able to admit I have them was enough. And very strong too.
This morning I still have not attempted to answer them. This morning I will just enjoy the return of the feeling of pride for my accomplishment so far and the renewed appreciation for my body.
I am absolutely certain that when I answer these questions I will have made the first step to the final countdown.
This is a more summery look for this blog. I wish I could make something myself that would be closer to who I am really. But since I know nothing about templates, this will have to do for now!