I’m not enjoying this phase of my weight loss journey. I am finding myself wanting or wishing to just stop and maintain the weight I’m at now. I feel extremely ashamed of my body, all over again and I am yet to find the strength and courage to reach out to someone and let them know how ashamed of my body I am feeling.
Excess skin is one thing, and keeping the massive amount of loose skin folds clean and dry has become a full time position in my house. And I need it to stop. The smell is pretty bad on good days and horrendous on bad days. Summer is coming to my part of the globe and I am faced with a fuck awful reality of having to pad myself up to stop the skin rubbing on skin and causing excruciating burns / rashes with the potential of infection.
The emotional and mental anguish I am experiencing is causing me to feel and think very wonky things. I am never going to be beautiful to that ‘someone special’ who I have held out hope of experiencing for most of my adult life. I want to hide away at home. I could never allow a potential partner to see my body now. I never want for a person to have to sleep next to me – or wake up next to me. And I definitely never want for a potential partner to have to see me padded up in the multiple folds of skin.
I just feel so ashamed.
I have been asking whom I perceive to be the male epiphany of a god to please take me now. I feel so ashamed. I feel ashamed of what I’ve done to my body in terms of having allowed myself to become so fucking huge. This line of thinking rolls into the blame I shoulder for having been responsible for the sexually violent events that have occurred throughout my life. I’ve written here before how I believed as a kid that if I got fat as, no-one in my family would want to be sexual with me anymore. [how does a kid so young manage to work out that skinny people are way more sexually attractive than fat people?] And kudos to me, that plan did eventually work by the time I hit my teenage years. I got to spend a few years un-fucked. I did however then fuck myself up with drugs and other forms of violence towards myself and others.
My bottom line is: I have never felt safe thin.
And for anyone reading this thinking ‘whoa – how you gonna manage it when you get closer to 100kg’, my reply is simply … I.do.not.know.
ANYways – the next fuck awful body thing that has occurred as a result of a big weight loss is that my body has decided to excrete / discharge toxins from losing weight, through my vagina and anus. Glamourous right? No. More stench to manage. More triggers being activated about the smell omitting from my body. AND, I am also having to deal with having a raw vulva and like raw skin patches around my anus from the discharge then rubbing against my butt cheeks etc.
It’s all bad folks. I am going to quit the gym sessions until I can get on top of the triggers. Because I’ve been unable to attend the gym more than once a week, my body relapsed – forgetting what sitting on the bike felt like for instance – and what it feels like to extend itself etc. Add to that, the vaginal and anal toxin discharges and being active well – my weekends have been spent traumatised and triggered for some time.