Yesterday had a rough start. I was really upset that I couldn’t go help SS with the nursery set up and stuff. I had been looking forward to it and I really wanted to help her and then I had to bail. I was angry (with myself) and frustrated and I ended up being grumpy all morning about it. I threw myself into baking (pumpkin bread for ds, biscuits for the dogs) and working on my Art Therapy homework to dull the emotions I was feeling.
By the time yoga time came around, I was still having tachycardia and I just plain felt crummy…Some days the low calories catch up with me and I just feel fatigued and weak and blah. Yesterday was one of those days. But I was not going to miss yoga. I am a stubborn sort of person and I was going to yoga come Hell or high water.
And I did go. I started off by asking my Yoga Instructor if we could talk for a couple of minutes before we started. I have only seen her once since before Christmas and so much has gone on over the past month, I felt like it was important to touch base. I mentioned the tachycardia episodes and the low calories as the cause and also that I was currently feeling tachycardic and tired/low energy and just not myself.
You know the nice thing about my Instructor? I told her all that stuff and she didn’t even bat an eye. I am always prepared to be judged or rejected…But nope. She listened, thanked me for talking with her and then did a yoga session that perfectly met my needs for the day. It was not super strenuous, which was good because I was tired just doing the poses we did. My Instructor has a knack for that…somehow (even when I don’t express a specific issue) our sessions are always just what I need at the time.
While we were doing yoga today, I was watching my Instructor and I was struck by something. It looks like she is really comfortable being in her body. You can just tell by the way she moves and the way carries herself. I almost asked her about it…but let the impulse slide. But as I was watching her, I was wondering what it would be like to actually be comfortable in your body…And more specifically, what would it feel like to me to be comfortable in my body?
My relationship with my body is one of pretty vile self-loathing, criticism and judgement. I probably cannot adequately express how much I hate my body. Part of it is an extension of my general hatred for myself and part of it is being disgusted with my body and therefore hating it. I am not sure I will ever like my body.
As part of my Art Therapy homework, I made a representation of myself. Any time I do this, I am just filled with an intense self-hateful rage and overwhelming urge to destroy whatever the representation is. The hate is so vicious that I just want to shred or smash or scratch out the Me figure. Lots of times, I represent the feeling with a big red X over the Me. I don’t know why making Me representations triggers this. It also triggers quite the nasty spiral where the urge to shred transfers to my physical body. And that intense loathing and body hatred just spikes to pretty much unbearable levels.
I wonder how this self-hatred plays into my eating disorder, cuz I bet it does.
The Art Therapist and my PNP have both told me that my minimalist eating counts as self-harming behavior. I am not sure what I think of that. I am not doing it to hurt myself. I am doing it to #1. Not gain weight, #2. Have control over something before I lose my shit, #3. Lose weight to be healthy. None of those reasons have anything to do with self-harm. In fact, they all seem to be the opposite of self-harm. Now, maybe the AT and PNP would point out that the extremeness of my calorie reduction is bad…But really, I don’t care. I am pretty sure I am fine…Just as long as no one asks me to increase my calories. That would make me un-fine.
Now…You might think that me saying that I am fine directly contradicts what I said about feeling crummy today. I choose to ignore that contradiction.