It is sometimes hard for me to look at myself in the mirror, or in old pictures, or current pictures.
The person I see in the mirror is not me. I don't remember the last time I've really looked at myself in the mirror and was able to say "Yes, this is me. That is my face, those are my clothes and that is my smile."
Because in reality the person inside, the person who has been dying to come out for years and years is buried under more than just fat. She's buried under years of denial, years of low self-esteem, fear, ugly old lady clothes (because they're the only ones that fit) and simply years of telling that person inside to shut up and deal. Instead I've spent my efforts building a wall. Oh it is a very nice wall. Strong. High. Completely full of dark things and dark corners.
I've spent the last five years acknowledging this wall. Checking it's resistance and considering demolition. I've been able to chip off certain bits that were toxic, thin it out in a few places and I admit I've peeked over the ledge a few times. LOL.
This step I'm taking, with this blog, and this regime is one of the stronger steps I've taken to challenging this wall. There are many things I still need to do. But I have to start with acknowledgment.
I have a wall. The things I've allowed to go on on my side of it have infested the person I have inside of me. That person has been banging on the wall with bloody fists for a while.
I think it's time I helped. I'm trying to give that person strength (and trying to figure out where I can get a few sticks of dynamite maybe). It's time she came out.
It's time she came out.