LJ Idol - Week 2 - Deconstruction

[applespice]

The body I inhabit is not always mine.

Sometimes it is solid, strong, and lean - all of the things that I have worked so hard for it to be. When I walk I feel the muscles move under my skin like steel under silk. When I stand I find myself in photo-ready poses, one hip jutting out and my face turned subconsciously toward the light. I am confident and proud, and talk candidly about my workout routines and how carefully I design my diet. Out in the world my body is beautiful, healthy, and most of all - mine.

In the mirror, my body does not belong to me. I am trapped behind the glass, a grotesque parody of myself. Where before there were muscles and lean lines, now there are pouches and gobbets and shelves of fat, disfiguring the image of perfection that I have conjured in my moments away from my reflection. In the mirror, the hours in the gym disappear. All I can see are the ways that I've cheated - the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup I had at lunch, or that time I took the elevator instead of the stairs.

Skinny. Skinny. Skinnyskinnyskinnyskinnyskinnyskinnyskinnyskinny...

I suck in my stomach. I turn to one side, then the other, then the first again. Tears come to my eyes. I blame myself, God, the universe, my parents. What did I do to deserve this?? I've worked so hard.

The body is no longer a body at all. It's an animal, a monster, a shapeless and inhuman blob of failure and disappointment. It certainly isn't me.

For the next week and a half, I eat perfectly. No slip-ups. I work harder than ever at the gym. Everything starts to come back into alignment. I avoid punishing myself - I know better than to think that works; I've tried it before. Instead I focus on healthy goal-setting. Health is happiness, right?

Inevitably, though, I stumble. I eat a packet of chips instead of carrot sticks. I quit a workout early. Then again I am faced with the self that is not me and the body that is not mine.

Sometimes I feel as though these islands of self-hatred and frustration are inescapable. My stomach will never be flat enough. I will never be skinny enough. I'm not sure if I even know what "skinny" means anymore, if it's a mantra or a curse, a descriptor or an obsession or a lifestyle. Maybe it's just a social construct, totally meaningless on its own. Maybe one day I won't care anymore.

Comments

[chewbob.livejournal.com]

You are so beautiful, inside and out. I know that's all cliche and lame but I figure I'm allowed to say it since I've hung out with you and stuff, so I've got a little bit of research to back up the subject. BUT ANYWAYS. You still hit on some pretty key points, especially looking in the mirror and seeing all the mistakes. Man, can I relate. Sometimes you've just got to wrap your arms around yourself and say, "I love you no matter what."

<3

[applespicy.livejournal.com]

Thanks ♥

I'm working on it. Sometimes I go for days without thinking one negative thing about my body. That's a major step for me, and hopefully a sign of better things to come.