It Was a Year Ago Today

* I know this is long, but it is one of the most important articles I have written.

June 26, 2005

It was late and all was quiet in the apartment as I sat on the futon looking in the mirror that was hung on the door from the previous tenants.  I'm not vain enough to do something like that or maybe I would be if I even had one ounce of acceptance for my immense body.

When I look in the mirror I don't see my face or my body, just my hair; the one part of my appearance that I like. I never see any other part of me because it is easier to hide myself from the truth of what I really look like rather than expose myself to the reality that is becoming clearer every day when pound after pound is added to my already behemoth form.

It was one of those defining moments that forever change the course of someone's life.  It was innocent enough.  I was just watching some television with the house quiet and my fiancé asleep in the other room when I glanced over at the mirror. I sat bra-less, hunched over from the weight of my heavy breasts as I sat cross-legged in the glow of the television.

I began to observe myself.  From the way I was sitting all I could see was a triangle of lard; a big triangle of lard.  I was horrified. That lard was me; the true me; It was the "me" I have always hid from. 

Thoughts started to race through my mind, "How can Michael see me as attractive when I look like a lump of lard?" and "You are so fat, why does he stay with you?  You are an embarrassment to him, your daughter, your family and your friends.  Your life will be so much better if you were skinnier."

With these thoughts I started to slip into my "psychotic" personality.  I imagine myself looking like "Rain Man." I begin to rock myself and tap my finger on my forehead and I begin to quietly repeat over and over, "No…no," while shaking my head as I go into my trance.  The words come from fear.  Such fear that causes me to retreat into my inner sanctuary.  "No…no…no more pain, my brain can't take anymore. Please no more."

Sometimes I have glimpsed my shadow dancing across the sidewalk and onto the buildings as the sun beats down upon me and my heavy body begins to sweat.  I cannot help but compare my shadow to whomever I am walking with while within myself the condemnation begins it's litany of self-hatred.

Occasionally I have had moments of hope where I see in my mind what my life would look like if I only had the perfect body.  While still in my trance, I started to think about finding that smaller me that resides happily within my flesh. I know it's in me, but I just needed to get at it and I knew exactly how to go about it.

I stood up and slowly moved to the kitchen.  "It's right there.  Pick it up," I said. I am so happy. It feels wonderful in my hand and I am filled with power.  My destiny is in my hands.

As I walked to the bathroom I ran my fingers over the object in my hand.  Ah, relief is just around the corner.  I breathe easier.  However, where do I begin to look for my tiny me?  In my stomach?  Legs?  Arms?  Chest? Yes, it will be my chest.  I have never done it there before.

Wielding my tool, I begin to slash cuts upon my flesh.  "I must cut off this fat.  I hate myself.  Fat, fat, fat!"  Angrily I continued to make wounds in search of a better me, a thinner me, a more acceptable me.

Then it happened; that one defining moment.  I went too deep.  I had a gaping wound on my shoulder.  I was shocked into stopping my assault on my body.  "Look what I did.  How bad is it?  Do I need stitches?  Oh my God does this hurt. What have I done?"

A year has passed since that event changed the world of self-injury that I had been living in.  Thirty years of self-harm.  I'm proud but I am also scared.  There are still issues that have caused me to ponder hurting myself again, but just as in AA, I still have to continue one day at a time, one hour at a time and if necessary, one minute at a time.