WIAW My Way

It appears that WIAW is the thing to do ’round here. I’m not quite ready to start photographing my pints and nut butters, as is the fashion. But I did snap a photo, in the store today, of the back of a box of Special K cereal, which exclaimed “Willpower!” as some sort of advertisement for eating nothing but cereal as a healthy means to lose weight so you can finally love yourself, apparently. Anyway, I tried to post it to the Special K facebook page with #fuckoffKelloggs, but I guess Kellogg’s has some sort of magic powers to prevent facebook anti-friends from expressing anything other than crispy rice-flavored love for their brand online. Oh well, it still made me feel good and now I have a new favorite hashtag.

#FUCKOFFKELLOGS

and also: #genericspecialkforeva

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On the verge, not quite ready to emerge

I am considering revisiting my goals. My Life Goals.

When you fall in the rabbit hole of pursuing weight loss, or the maintenance of a too-low-for-you weight at any cost, you really don’t have much mental or physical energy left over for other Life Goals.

Perhaps I ought to eliminate the goal of weight loss from my life, but in order to do so I need to understand why that singular goal has been so attractive to me, for so very long. So: What has successful pursuit of this goal afford me, thus far?

  • The feeling that I am working towards something, anything, that is measurable and tangible, and that does not require collaboration with other human beings and their inherent inconsistencies.
  • Certainly, admiration, or at least attention, from those who do not know my struggles.
  • Certainly concern from my family, when concern is the only form of love that I will allow myself to receive.
  • Certainly, a welcome distraction from the overwhelming cloud of LIfe Is Utterly Out of My Control that lingers just over my head when I have nothing concrete (like a number or a rule book) on which to focus.
  • Certainly, a doctor’s note to disengage from people at a level that allows me to stay clean and free of the watery emotional soup of relationships.

These things may not seem to be useful or even desirable to someone who has never struggled with anorexia, and I realize there are counterpoints to each. The intention of this post is not to explore the counterpoints just yet. And the list is not at all exhaustive.

Before the emergent transformation, I may need to strip down to the raw pain. I may need to eliminate the rot, before I can fill up the empty cavity with something good and worthwhile. That is what this part feels like, the part where I sit, and rest, and eat.