PMS And Tom

Monday: I binged Sunday night and it utterly ruined my self-esteem. I felt swollen and bloated and worthless and disgusting all the next day, even though I can’t have gained more than a pound of fat at most from what I ate. It showed me clearly, once again, how much my self-esteem is tied to my body and my behaviour. If I lose weight and eat ‘well’, I love myself. If not, I feel as if I didn’t have the right to think of myself as worthy of love, as pretty, or special, or a serious ballet student or athletic person. I know that this belief is wrong and harmful and just fixing my behaviour is not the solution, but it seems impossible to love myself if I don’t follow my own stupid rules. Especially in my current mood, which is impulsive, depressed and afraid. It’s PMS, I’m sure.

Thinking of Tom who would come in the evening was my saving grace. I went to AS after work to undo some of the damage, but stupidly gave in to another impulse and bought and ate two sweets on the way home, and then felt like even more of a failure and a fraud.

However, I managed to focus on Tom when he came and it helped enormously. Tom doesn’t seem to notice a little bloating, and he apparently doesn’t care if I am a bit bigger or smaller. He holds me and kisses me and tells me I’m sweet, and smiles in that special heart-wrenching way, as if I was unique and wonderful, and in those moments I FEEL that way. After dinner we just stood there in a tight embrace, and I said that it was lovely just holding him, and he agreed. We lay down and kissed a little and then Tom asked me if I wanted to try the massage cream he had bought. He opened my dress and I took off my top, feeling both bold and ashamed, while he took off his shirt. He massaged my shoulders and back, again sitting on my hips. I found it really hard to relax and worried about loose skin and fat on my back, the way it looked on my arms, and Tom’s position. After some time, Tom kissed me and we exchanged places. I knelt beside him and tried to give him a nice massage. I’m not sure what he intended, to just make me relax, or to get us to be more comfortable showing and touching skin, or to turn it into something sexual. Anyway, after some time he turned around and I lay half on top of him. It was nice to feel his skin on mine. We kissed and he grew passionate, also kissing my neck forcefully and leaving another love bite. We kissed a bit more and when we slowed down and I opened my eyes, there was his face in the dark, smiling in that way I described above. He also caressed my lips and I kissed his finger and then he told me I had beautiful lips. Last Thursday, he had told me that I resembled Angelina Jolie. He meant it as a compliment, although I can’t see any similarity except maybe skin and hair colour, and don’t like her very much. We slept cuddled together, and it was so nice to feel his skin. I dreamed of him and simultaneously slept so deeply that I was surprised to find him next to me when I woke.

Tuesday was better, both with food and body-image. I did not binge, but ate a little more than planned. Tom was waiting for me when I got home after ballet class, and we ate together after my shower and then lay down on the bed, cuddling and talking and kissing a little. I told him a bit about my own stupid self-imposed rules. He held me very close and said something I didn’t quite catch, but I think it was, ‘I love those parts of you, too’ or, ‘I love you anyway.’ He did use the verb ‘love’ for the first time, though, and I just kissed and held him very close and couldn’t speak. A bit later, I was remembering seeing Tom for the first time on the square by the lake, in the light of the setting sun that was dazzling my eyes, and how I had been nervous, and disappointed by his appearance. And now here we were, lying on my bed in each other’s arms, very much in love. I said it was strange, the way we had found each other. Tom said he was so happy that we had, and I said, ‘Me, too.’ And we kissed and held each other very close again. I was feeling so much, love, wonder, gratitude, bliss, that it was hard catching my breath and I felt like crying, but had no tears. Tom was breathing fast as well. Maybe he felt something similar. We kissed again and Tom said that he would really like to kiss every bit of me, and we laughed and I teasingly suggested doing it in sections.

Wednesday: This morning, everything seemed ok again. I didn’t weigh myself, but felt as if I could accept my body and didn’t hate myself. But I had extremely strong cravings all day and some time after lunch, not having much work, gave in and first ate some chocolate and then went to the cafeteria and bought even more. Simultaneously, I felt as if I couldn’t face ballet class and pointe, feeling tired and heavy and worthless, and wanting nothing more than to hide and be alone. Tom will be in my flat, however, and while my ‘bad’ part wants to hide from him and eat even more, this is actually a good thing. I can’t massively overeat when he is around, because his presence doesn’t allow me to fully numb myself. I also can’t entirely hate myself when he is there with his love for me. Yes, I already regret eating too much, but want to try to not see it as the end of the world, not reject and punish myself, but forgive myself and be kind to myself. I am also determined to be open with Tom, saying that I am struggling, admitting my weakness, but not going into much detail. I don’t want to remind him of his sister. I don’t want him to know the extent of my eating disorder (yet), and I don’t want to appear THAT weak and pathetic. But I also don’t want to put up a cheery front and pretend everything is ok. If I were in his place, I would want some honesty and a chance to offer some comfort. It is PMS, not a permanent state, not a real depression. In a few days, I will feel ok again and be able to eat less and go out and be strong again. My body will gain some fat, but I can lose it again. It’s not ideal by far, but I’m doing the best I can right now.

Monday: I’m STILL not better. I ate so much and haven’t exercised or danced since Thursday. My body is visibly bigger, but strangely I am not as devastated as I feared. Yes, I feel fat and ‘not me’ and worthless, but a part of me also keeps up a healthy attitude. I spoke to Sissy on Saturday, asking for her advice and help with body image and this stupid, sick idea that being bigger makes me worthless and undeserving of respect, love or joy. When I see fat people, my mind knows they have the same value as thin people. But it was something I had to work on, because even as a fat person, I had internalised fatphobia. I find it almost impossible, however, to apply these lessons on myself. Sissy is a lot fatter than me now and despite being five years younger, much farther along in this respect. She helped me a lot, and I felt much better and less distressed about gaining weight. Unfortunately, it also somehow made me or allowed me to continue eating too much. Even today, I almost binged twice at work and am fighting thoughts and urges. I feel so out of control and afraid and ashamed.

Tom will come tonight after not seeing me for four days. I look different, my face is rounder, my thighs and stomach, every part of me is bigger. I am afraid he will notice and be shocked or turned off. A part of me wants to tell him immediately, ‘I have gained lots of weight last week, I know I look fat, I hate myself, I’m ashamed, please don’t think I expect you to love me or even just accept me.’ Just as I would have liked to wear a sign to class or for running that said ‘I know I am fat and ugly. I am ashamed and am trying to change’ when I was at my highest weight this summer. And I will want to wear that sign again tomorrow and all the time it will take to get smaller again. But as I said, there is the healthy voice somewhere that tells me it’s okay to eat, it’s okay to stay inside and rest and sleep and ‘kill time’ and distract myself, it’s not important how big I am, it doesn’t take away my previous success, my right to take myself seriously and identify as an active person and a dancer. The healthy part of me also doesn’t want to humiliate myself before Tom by telling him I’m ugly and unlovable. Deep down, objectively, I know I am NOT. He met me when I weighed almost 80kg and wasn’t turned off. Maybe he won’t even notice. I told him I was struggling, feeling bad, tired and eating more than usual. If it comes up, I can just tell him that I gained weight and that it bothers me, but nothing self-degrading.

It’s so hard at the moment, and regret and thinking back to last week hurt so much. I don’t know what to do. I will try to focus on balance, on Tom, on my healthy voice, on taking it one day at a time. It will pass.

About annalienor

Lover of beauty, adult ballet student, deliberate creator wannabe.
This entry was posted in Health, Love, Milestone, Moment. Bookmark the permalink.

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