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Information, inspiration, coaching and support for obese people wanting a longer, healthier life through Weight Loss Surgery (WLS) |
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Through Thick and Thin #31 (October 6, 2003) Distorted Body Image, Distorted ThinkingMy mind can be such a strange and puzzling realm! Sometimes my perceptions are as sharp, focused and precise as a laser beam, cutting to the essence of a situation or finding the solution to a problem. Other times, especially when it concerns my body image and issues, I'm surprised at how grossly distorted my perceptions can be. These days, eleven months after my surgery, I'm experiencing problems getting a realistic and accurate sense of the dimensions and boundaries of my new, post-WLS body. I've lost 160 pounds (the equivalent of a "normally sized" person that I've been hauling around for most of my life), and I'm sometimes very confused and just plain wrong about my size and shape.
It's almost as if, when I look at a current picture of myself, my glasses automatically shift to a distorting prescription that displays a body mass that's no longer there. Exercising every day, and subsisting largely on meal replacements (protein drinks with vitamins, Juice Plus, fiber and other supplements) and semi-solid foods, I FEEL so thin and light and trim. That's why I am so surprised, and disappointed, when my image on film still looks so outsized to me. Actually, it's not so surprising after all. This is the kind of toll that years of listening to and believing negative self-talk (those critical, blaming and shaming internal voices that I call "my committee") can take on a sensitive and vulnerable spirit that has internalized the Shame. At the same time, I find it quite ironic that I can't quite seem to get a handle on how (relatively) small and lean my body has become. I'm amazed every time I feel the emergence of another rib or muscle in a place that had been a fleshy, gushy soft spot for so long. Although I know in my mind that I now wear "Large" men's clothing, I continue to be incredulous every time a large pair of pants or a large shirt actually fit me. My mind is screaming "Don't even try; it will never fit; you're wrong again about your size; you're still too fat" every second that I'm trying on the clothes. It's not until I zipper and button the pants that I realize that this is what it feels like when clothes fit like they were tailored just for me. Doing the laundry, I dangle my 36-38" underwear and can't quite get it that this tiny garment is large enough to contain my girth. When we're doing home repairs or rearranging furniture, I still find myself waiting for Kari to squeeze into the thin corridor or constricted space because my inflated self-image won't fit, although my body now actually will. When we had our carpets cleaned recently, and we had to retrieve something from the kitchen while they were still drying, I suggested that Kari make the trek because, with my (old) weight, I would sink in and leave the deepest foot impression. Last weekend, visiting dear friends who live in the woods, I spent five minutes trying to figure out how to best climb into the bed wedged into a corner, before I realized that I was now slim enough to walk around the bed. I just can't get used to being the flexible, mobile, svelte One Who Can, after so many decades of being the stuffed, immobile, fat One Who Cannot. I'm hoping that, with more time in my new body, I'll become better adjusted and find the self image that is just right for the man I've become. I also hope that I'll never stop savoring the glorious anonymity of being an Invisible Man in public: no one gawking at me because of my girth; no more pity or harsh snap judgments in the eyes of the people that I pass on my walks. Sometimes, it feels so good just to melt into the crowd... GlennClick here to read another newsletter.
Click here if you have a “fruit and vegetable problem” to see if my solution (see Through Thick and Thin #19) will work for you. |
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Copyright, © 2003, Glenn Goldberg. All rights reserved. |
Through Thick and Thin Newsletters
The distortion seems to work two ways. First, I'm continually surprised by how fat I still appear when I examine recent photographs. The scale (and clothes labels) reassure me that I have never weighed less, at least since my adolescence. But, to myself, I still look fat and swollen. It's not my vision growing dim; it's a legacy from almost a lifetime of conditioning (external- and self-) that I was a fat and disgusting pig, skin stretched tight over several hundred pounds of ugly fat.
