One of the things I often ask myself about the crisis is, what's the purpose of it for me?
For obvious reasons, it can't be about losing weight, because been there done that, not interested, personally anyhow, although I do retain a curiosity about how to do it in a natural and gentle way that goes with and respects the body.
No what really has been exercising me even pre-FA, is what am I to learn from all this?
I just know it's something, many things possibly.
The most obvious one being related to how I get out of the 'obese personae/ mentality'.
There are other things, but that is the most pressing one because my overwhelming feeling after stepping off that train is, that was one hell of a mindwarp and it's not enough to just stop-admirable and wonderful first step though that is. I feel I must rescue some parts of myself.
Being obese for me has been a little bit like, getting in with a bad crowd. We all know a lovely misguided person, who's got issues and is maybe taking a wrong direction, but we have faith that this person will get through it and sort themselves out. Then, our lovely diamond in the rough gets involved with a bad crowd, they latch on to our twinkles rebellion, and sparkles latches on to their aire of hauteur, that turns out really to be nihilistic and destructive.
Whatever way the situation works itself out, we often hold a deep grudge against the bad crew, we know our star involved themselves willingly, but somehow, we just feel they were exploited and taken advantage of and used for purposes which if they had been explicit, would not have signed on for.
That's how I feel about the obesity thing. I was willing, and yet somehow, not. This has left me feeling that so much about me that is not admirable has been played up to the extent that could only be tolerable whilst under the influence. Now that I'm no longer, those have to go too.
In a way, it's about ownership, I was so owned by it, the aftermath is a hollowness that will not just go away. I need to be what I might or would have been if I'd not allowed myself to be so derailed by it. This also feels like a kind of apology to myself, to my younger self who I so maligned, I don't care if that sounds strange, I wish to offer myself an unconditional apology, I was genuine, I was trying, that was trying, that's what trying is like. I was not fake, I was not false or bearing false witness.
Until that no longer evokes any sense or echo of doubt, I'll keep on with that. That doubt is not real, it's the conditioned response of someone who doubted themselves so thoroughly that it doesn't just go away when you consciously realise the error of their ways.
Seeing the tide of vitriol aimed against fat people is highly visceral and upsetting at times, but I occasionally find myself thinking, take a good look at what you thought was better than you, are they better than you? Is it possible to aspire to be like them, and what is that anyway?
I sometimes can't believe that I felt in anyway inferior to people who've let things hang out that I would be embarrassed to admit feeling, even if I did. This is /supposed to put us off feeling or being fat.
It sometimes feels as if they are screaming at us, we aren't any better than you, we can't help you, see, how many ways do you want us to show you? It's like a counterpoint to being abject about your fatness, droning on about how disgusting and bad you are.
I think I'm beginning to get that message, at last.