The tidying-up marathon is over. I really enjoyed it, and now my flat is much neater. There is space and a sense of order. Nevertheless, I feel disappointed. I had expected a greater feeling of ‘fresh start’, maybe a creative idea or a sudden realisation, some change. But what I sense is mostly emptiness. I came home last Friday after work and didn’t know what to do. Nothing left to tidy up. No energy for exercise or ballet. No desire for starting housework. I lay down on the bed and read irrelevant things on the internet for hours, then ate too much, then slept for ages. Last night, too, I just lay there with Tom, staring out of the window. It was a lovely spring twilight, but it failed to inspire me.
My self-esteem is really low, too. I feel as if I was utterly boring and average, if not stupid and ugly. My ‘highs’ are gone, useless since I can see through them: I used weight loss, ballet and fitness as a means to feel better about myself for a long time. They are illusions. Fake happiness. So is love. I know I use Tom to feel better. I crave his affection and his words of endearment while hating myself and calling myself names. Coward. Lazy. Stupid. Fat (meaning too large and un-feminine, therefore un-lovable, undesirable, wrong). God, when and where did I learn this deep hatred of fatness? Losing weight has only made it worse. I feel once more as I used to feel in my youth (roughly 100 lb. heavier): inside, I am feminine, delicate, but also fiery and passionate, spiritual(-ish), but I look just the opposite and therefore feel like a fraud, as if I wasn’t allowed to take myself seriously. As Mrs. H always says: in these moments, I abandon myself. And my abandoned part cries out for comfort, but the only comfort I seem to give it is food. It’s a mechanism I have reinforced for years and now it comes back again and again.
And again and again, I have to tell myself: Changing the outside is not the answer! I have to not abandon myself when I hate myself, I have to find a way to love myself as I am, the way Tom seems to do. Unconditionally! This means even when I have eaten too much, gained weight, not worked out, not put on flattering clothes, not done my work well, in short, not behaved the way my ideal self ‘should’ behave.
On a more positive note, after a ten-day break from ballet classes, I have slowly begun to find new motivation and joy. I suddenly read ballet books and websites again and sometimes enjoy class despite my ‘wrong’ body. I even practiced at home a few times. I’m really trying to separate ballet/exercise from the idea of changing my body and just do it because it feels good.
On the whole, it’s not hopeless. There are ups and downs and many drab days, but I think I’m finally on the right path.