Thursday, August 27, 2009

A Beautiful Mind.

I'm watching A Beautiful Mind by myself tonight. Well mostly, I watched more than half of it with Munchkin, trying to get her to bed. Kenny already sleeping because he's gotta drive 3 hours out of town for work and be there by 5:30am. Yikes.

Some people think I'm crazy for loving this movie so much. Probably because I am, though. I identify with mental issues all too well. So well that I would love to go back to school in Psychology and then use that in some way (not quite sure how yet) to minister to young girls/women.

I've over analyzed my messed up brain so much that I personally think that I don't need a degree to "minister" in that manner, it'd just look better on paper. Haha.

Having dealt with an eating disorder/skewed body image most of my life out of childhood - still having it haunt me - I greatly sympathize with others with similar issues. Much like those who are involved with someone who is "suffering" such problems sympathize with eachother as well.

Having a baby put my whole life in a much better perspective. I wish I could have my old body back, having realized that my old body was flat out fantastic. Ha! Now, though, the eating disorder thought patterns still bug me - wondering if being skinnier would "fix" the flame job my 9 pound wonder gave me.

It is still a constant struggle. Like the life of John Nash whose imaginary people never really went away - the skewed way of thinking that is eating disorders never really goes away. Its a choice - and takes A LOT of mind over matter and purposeful thinking to get it to the point that I have. It still bugs me - I hate having my belly "roll" over the top of my pants (its not even a roll, just skin that has no where to go in my tight jeans, yeesh, what's my problem? Oh yeah...), but then I realize that that is normal and have to put it out of my mind. - And its gone.

I don't tear up every time I feel fat. I don't tear up thinking about how awful I must look to everyone else. I don't sit in the bathroom and cry when I'm alone anymore, because I think I am not attractive to my husband. - And this after my very changed post baby body.

How I wish it would have happened before. Fact of the matter is - it would not have, though. Being pregnant it was no longer about me. My life was about growing a new life that was COMPLETELY dependent on my treating my body properly. Completely dependent on me - that was an amazing concept for me. So for the duration I was a "good" girl. That length of time was just enough to get my brain over the "hump" that I never wanted to get over before - but I had to this time.

That and the fact the my body was constantly changing and growing against my will. Ha!

So, now, after years and years of tears and abusing my body - I sit at below my pre-pregnancy weight, a great body, though not untouched by pregnancy by any means - you just can't tell through my clothes - and much better off than ever before.

As I said - the struggle remains. I still stare at myself in the mirror - hoping that maybe I'll be able to get back to the way I was because I really do hate the way I look naked. Yet, it does not plague my every thought. A long time coming, a visit to the psych ward - the worst experience ever - far too many hospitalizations, many a late night with my boyfriend/fiance/loving husband - I finally sit where I think I'll continually be.

It breaks my heart to see other girls/women in this same state, though, and I understand it completely. I want to help them through and let them know I've been there in the darkest moments. I'm not sure how that would, if ever, come about. It's a dream I have, and it may always be just that. My goal in life is to make sure my lovely daughter grows up with the healthiest of body images and can appreciate the body that God has given her always.

I was scared to death to have a girl. Boys are so easy. Their problems are pretty darn clear, they don't play the mind games that girls do. Their wants and needs are easy to figure out. Girls you have to play the game with them. I know myself and how I have been - I did not want to have a chance of that happening with a daughter of my own. Now is the real test - how do I instill a good body image in the daughter of an eating disorder plagued mother? Stay tuned and we'll see in about 18 years.


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