Archive for compassion

that i would be good….

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 19/08/2013 by doyourememberthattime

i am fat.
that’s a fact not an insult.

for many years I have been a comfort eater.
as you can imagine, depression isn’t helpful with this problem.
in my bleakest times I also lose the motivation to prepare proper meals.
i exist on whatever food stuffs require the least effort.
it’s a vicious circle.
i feel awful, i eat terribly, the weight gain gives me further reason to berate myself, and i feel worse.

the truth is I hate my body
i try very hard to accept the body I have
and
love myself
but
i have never really been able to
sadly, I tend towards hating myself inside & out.

I am ashamed of my body
i’m not sure that many people would know that I feel that way
i project a like it or lump it attitude,
i would dearly love to feel.

i fully support the fat pride movement
i don’t judge other people’s bodies in the way that I do my own.
there is a familiar disconnect when self-compassion is required.

i don’t know if my lack of self-love is part of my depression
my therapist has often told me that my inner critic is overly developed.
i consider my fatness a failure
but
as a feminist I feel my belief in that notion is a bigger failure
i attack myself on all fronts.

i have successfully lost lots of weight in the past
unfortunately the only way I have manage to do this is by practically starving myself
hence, it is never sustainable
perhaps I am meant to be fat?
I find that idea a little frightening.

the problem is, i genuinely feel better about myself when I am slimmer
not thin
i’ve never wanted to be skinny
i like curves
i enjoy being a big woman
just not this big.

i’m not entirely sure where my loathing originates
obviously I live in a world that perpetuates the myth that only thin is beautiful
but
personally, I have not found my everyday relationships have been affected by my weight
i have never had difficulty making friends
nor have I been lacking in romantic or sexual attention.
why then do I find myself body so repulsive?
others clearly don’t.

i have been immersing myself in the fat pride movement
my hope is that seeing other fat bodies in a positive light will allow me to view my own body more lovingly.
i suspect that i would be a happier person if i could accept myself
it would be a step towards seeing that i am enough.

One day i would like to be able to say
i am good, just as i am.

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thank you for you pity, you are too kind…

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 08/07/2013 by doyourememberthattime

I had a bout of ill health last week & once again found myself lying on a gurney in A&E in considerable pain. This has become a feature of life, one that I have reluctantly come to terms with. With the exception of one thing, I cannot bring myself to accept the constant focus on my self harm. No matter what I present with or how much pain I am, there are always the questions. I am quizzed about my scars by nurses, Drs & auxiliaries alike. The same questions over and over,
Does it hurt?
Why?
How?
How long?
And with the questions come the judgements. I’m told I’m making it harder for anyone to love me, I’m ruining myself, I’m smarter than this, It’s dangerous. My body somehow becomes their property. The paw my scars. Yes, the touch me and are chagrined if I object. The scars blind them. They no longer see a patient. They see a crazy woman. Everything I say is now doubted. Despite my long and well documented medical history, Regardless of the fact I am mostly presenting due to a flare up of an already diagnosed condition, my mental health is called into question. I am asked humiliating question. Have I poisoned myself or hurt myself? How is my mood? Do I need them to call a carer?
I am no longer me. My symptoms are not simply diagnosed and treated. First they must discover if I am just crazy. All the while, I am suffering. The conversation is repeated with each new dry and nurse. Sometimes the cleaners and auxiliaries give their opinions too.
Mostly they branch into two camps. Firstly, the people who pity me. Who think I am some pathetic little girl. They pet me and treat me like a 5yr old. They offer platitudes & some frankly stupid advice. They are desperate to call someone to be responsible for me. They do a lot of touching & exclaiming. They can’t conceive that I am a strong, intelligent adult who is capable of looking after herself. So, they reduce everything I am into sad little bundle & except me to be grateful for their characterisation.
Now, we come to the haters. They think I am a waste of their time. I am stupid, self-indulgent, and stubborn. They grudge treating me, they especially dislike administering pain relief. Obviously if I have self-harmed, I must also a drug seeker. I’ve waited in A&E for hours with pancreatitis with nothing more than paracetamol because some dr objected to me having a history of mental illness. This group can’t separate the psychological from the physical. One must always be in some way linked to other. I have caused this. I am definitely to blame & they spare no time in telling me so. They believe nothing I tell them & never apologise when my records show that everything I have said is accurate. They have indiscrete & unflattering conversation about me. Meaning that other patients can now join in this judgy little game. They say ugly things & when they finally grudgingly have to offer some treatment, they make sure I know that I don’t deserve it.
Occasionally I come across someone who treats with compassion & respect. I am so utterly grateful. I shouldn’t have to be.

i’ll stand in front of you, take the force of the blow

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 02/05/2013 by doyourememberthattime

i am currently enduring EMDR.
it’s a therapy designed to reprocess thought & feelings relating to a traumatic experiences.
it basically involves repeatedly revisiting the event. focusing on specific aspects & the feelings they evoke with the desired income of making them less painful.
i was aware hard. i am forcing myself to examine a period of my life that i have been avoiding for 14 years. these memories have never been safe ground for me.
stirring up things that i have purposely supressed for my entire adult life is terrifying.
the sessions themselves are emtional and exhausting. inbetween sessions has become a type of hell.
i’ve been having nightmares. well, some of them are nightmares. others are just dreams about that period. neither are welcome. i’m scared to sleep,which only makes everything else worse.
worse than the nightmares are the flashbacks, awful memories that i get trapped in. images of the worst moments of my life. i cant explain how frightening it is to be back there.
i don’t know how to cope with either of these developments.
the urge is cut is so intense. i see graphic images in my head. i feel the need to hurt.
to be disfigured
and
damaged.
perhaps a reflection of how i view myself.
i am making a little progress. i am beginning to develop some compassion for my younger self. i am able to acknowledge that at 19 years old, i was unprepared for the series of events that occured. i feel a little less angry with the young me.
i’m yet to feel less to blame, just that maybe there were mitgating circumstances.
it’s a slow, excruciating process, but i determined to see it through.
i’m hoping that i will finally be able to deal with the trauma and move on.