Suddenly this evening I’m so unhappy. I’ve not been at my current weight since 2017 nor have I been this unfit since then. I’ve spent the last five years improving and at worst maintaining my fitness, so much anxiety and daily struggle has gone into making myself do things that don’t come naturally to me, and here I am as if the last few years never happened. The rolls of extra cushioning around my neck are back. I know, we shouldn’t see these things, or even think this way as women – it’s not there, the thought is simply deteriorating our confidence.
But I know it’s there; whatever new or old feminism says, it’s there. So is the roll of extra hola hoop attached to my abdomen. Again, I know it’s there because I also know when it’s not there. So, a few kgs heavier, what’s the big deal? Unfortunately, it’s both visible and feelable. Three kgs are nothing, people say, yes it’s a number, but it’s also two MacBook Pro laptops, it’s three jugs of milk, and three big cola bottles – you do the maths. When was the last time you bought a kilo’s worth of something? It’s a lot.
Try running with three bottles of lemonade. Those are the facts, yeah I shouldn’t think of points to make myself upset but I repeat, I can feel it and see it and I’m not delusional since the scales don’t lie.
The most upsetting thing is all the food I still want to eat despite having eaten so much I put on many extra kgs. I’m upset because I don’t do much running, swimming, and no cycling and I don’t particularly want to. I’m upset because despite not doing these things and being OK with it, I’m still beating myself up all day, trying to convince myself to do it. Partly because I would feel good afterwards but worse when I don’t.
I’m upset because my face is a different shape from a month ago, my eyelids are fuller and heavier and drooping over my eyes. The fold is almost gone. I know my face and I can see exactly where it looks different, even if no one else does.
Everything is bulgier and I don’t like it. There are extra parts to me and it feels foreign. What’s more, I’m not running fast, or getting that total body exertion where you feel the blood pumping from head to toe, I don’t feel that sensation that bad things are being pumped out of the body through the pore, the waste products of aerobic exercise when sweat is poring out. The sensation of washing it off and feeling fresh and like you’ve used your body and its utmost capabilities. Right now I feel like I’m wrapped in thick, heavy bubble wrap where I’m trapped and I can feel the new parts moving when I move.
I’ve spent much of my last week watching this TV show about local gangs and corruption. It’s all the rage and is genuinely so good, it’s distracting; for the last two weeks, I’ve been distracted. Just yesterday I was thinking how free and how much I loved being in this city, Beijing, where I lived for years, where there is sun every day even when it’s freezing outside it’s bright. I never feel upset during the day whereas in the UK I often feel that way during the day. I’m able to have the snacks I like every day, and there are fun shops just on my doorstep. I can’t run every day, even though the biggest park in town is on my doorstep too, due to the pollution. But I’m not upset about it except for the benefits it has for me physically. There’s also a 50m pool right there, but there’s no one to train with. In fact, I don’t mind not doing any exercise ever, but I mind letting my fitness and ability to do things with my body go to waste. It can do great things, but I need to train it to do these things and not doing that makes me sad.
Of course, I’m set due to more than this. Yesterday was a really hard day. It was hard on a practical level. Things happened that you wish were a bad dream. Nothing life-threatening but things I could easily never have experienced in life. Things I am finding hard to get the ick off myself for. I saw things that ruined my eyes and makes me feel sick. During this time I had the urge to escape but I couldn’t, I had to stay and face it and I couldn’t blink to make it go away. It has scarred me. I’m definitely not at the stage where it’s funny. It’s os hard to write about it too. I feel sick.
Reflections 