Friday, February 10, 2006
Losing It In Canyonville, Oregon
When left to my own devices for too long, especially too long without alcohol, I begin to look at my life, my thighs, my diet with a high power microscope. I am sitting here in a Best Western in rural Oregon just a short shuttle ride to an Indian casino waiting for Ben Affleck to come banging on the door asking for protection from Charlize Theron (or was I the only one who saw that piece of shit?). Barring young Hollywood knocking down my door, I’ve decided to have a small nervous breakdown of the “Stampy Sucks” variety. Trust me, these get started and they take on a life of their own.
The first thing I am ashamed of is that I’m about to complain about my weight and my body self-image at a time when so many other strong women on the net are saying they are o.k. with themselves and have pushed unrealistic ideals to the side. Let me make it clear – I AM NOT O.K. WITH MYSELF RIGHT NOW. This 30#s I’ve gained in the last 3 years makes me feel off balance, clothes don’t fit, I’m self-conscious in yoga. At the same time, it is all I can do to feed the dog and pick up take-out most days. There is a mantra in trauma surgical training - eat when you can, sleep when you can. Well, i haven't been getting much sleep, but I seem to keep finding the food. While I worked out some in Seattle, all it took was a bad week of call and a couple beers to make me feel like a big, unhealthy lump again.
This has all served to make me generally uncomfortable in my skin. When I wear jeans, I am now that person that people always want to tell that they are 5 years and 15 pounds past belonging in those low riders. No matter what I’m wearing, I fuss with it. I’ve begun to worry about hair, make-up, and jewelry (all so not my thing – a silver bangle and some mascara is a fancy night out) to draw attention away from everything else. Not that any guys have been begging to take me out, but I cry when I think of someone seeing me naked. Not real romantic, eh. While I used to have trouble keeping my clothes on (wait - that didn't come out right - but you get the idea) now I roam the locker room in the gym draped in towels. I towel off inside the shower, I shimmy my jeans on under the towel, I always have a sweatshirt tied around my waist.…aw screw it…i’m taking an Ambien and going to sleep.