While I was in New York (with a good portion of the internet), a lovely lady asked me (mostly kiddingly I’m pretty sure) how I stay “so thin” since I don’t really exercise. I kind of laughed and wasn’t sure what to say.

I mean, how do you tell a virtual stranger that the way you keep your weight down is by periodically starving yourself?

For a while here, I’ve been doing better with my weight issues. I was able to kind of let go for a while, to stop obsessing so much. But I say that I was able to let go knowing that the whole time I was not obsessing I was at a weight I am comfortable with. It’s kind of like an alcoholic feeling like they’re kicking sober ass when they have no access to alcohol.

Either way, things have been better this summer.

And when Slappy and I went to Canada I knew there would be weight gain and to my credit, I let myself enjoy and indulge in food. It was vacation and there were no scales. But there was poutine (which was eh, not a big fan of gravy), pastries, cakes and all kinds of treats. I didn’t eat myself sick, but I didn’t restrict the way I would’ve at home.

And when we got back the scale showed how much I enjoyed those treats. 6 pounds. 6 pounds in 6 days.

I wish I could tell you that I am being patient with myself and realizing that you can’t lose weight on the spot, that I’m not struggling, but I’m not being patient with myself and I am struggling.

I am struggling terribly.

I cannot seem to get this extra weight off. I think about it constantly, I look at myself in the mirror and I am sad, I am upset. I hate what I look like right now. I hate the way my clothes fit and don’t fit. Which is absurd because we’re talking about 4 pounds at this point, not 40. I know people would KILL to be 4 pounds heavier than their preferred weight and I feel terrible being so mentally screwed up about my weight. I know it’s not reasonable, but that doesn’t make it controllable.

I want to be carefree, I want to stop perseverating on the numbers. But more than that, I want to be 4 pounds lighter. I want my clothes to fit perfectly, I want to feel pretty and thin. I want to have a positive body image, but I want to have the body I like more. I want to be thin more than sane.

And that’s how I know that I’m not doing better.

I’m not starving myself, I’m not doing things that are unsafe, I’m no physical risk to myself. But I am not happy. I’m not me. I’m stuck on numbers and appearance, qualities that if any of my friends came to me upset about I would tell them to ignore. I cannot ignore them. I want to, but they weigh too heavily on my mind. To be honest, those 4 pounds are nothing compared to the weight of these worries, of these crazy thoughts about my body, my worth, my appearance.

I feel heavy in every way right now.

As much as I wish it wasn’t true, I’m not ready to handle the emotional and psychological weight right now. I can barely even admit how serious this is, let alone even begin to pretend that I can manage it, I can fix it or seek help for it. I’m not ready yet. I’m sorry.

And so I continue to manage the physical weight instead. And while I promise to manage it safely for my body, it will most certainly be at the expense of my mind.

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