I have a lot of trouble with self-image; when I look in the mirror, I don’t see reality. At least, I HOPE I’m not seeing reality. Because, if I’m seeing reality, I might have to drive off a cliff.
I’ve poked fun at this image before, but underneath the giggles and the shame of poking fun of this probably very nice woman, is the intense fear that I really do look like this, or might at some point in time look like this.
What if I look in the mirror some day and really do see this? What if I someday own a muumuu? What if I wear it because nothing else on the face of the earth will fit? What if I someday own those socks? And go out in public wearing them? What if I deteriorate to the point that I go out wearing stuff like this because, at that weight, it doesn’t really matter because nothing will ever look good anyway? I don’t want that image in the mirror, or in my mind, to be me.
I might have a few body issues.
Sometimes I can get that image out of my mirror, but it’s replaced by this one. Would I really ever expose those thighs to the light of day? EVER, under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES?
I might have to hire someone to go to the gynocologist for me, because there is no way under the sun that I would ever expose any of that to a poor unsuspecting doctor, and I wouldn’t believe him/her that anybody on the face of the earth has seen worse. I don’t want to be like the immensely obese guy on Scrubs who had to go to the zoo to get an MRI.
Why is she eating? I want to knock that plate of food out of her hands.
The person I see in the mirror is so alien to me, I sometimes have to back up a few steps and look again, always in horror, and wonder how it could have happened?
Dear Lord, don’t let my insane personal image problems ever come true. . . .
The reality is bad enough.
My thighs used to look good.
Oh holy scheisse, I almost posted a picture of them right here on this blog. I swear, I almost did.
Not as they are NOW. I wouldn’t do that to you. Ick, ick, ick, I don’t even wear shorts in public now. I just won’t subject the universe to it; I love the world too much and I would never make anybody see that. My thighs would uglify the planet.
No, not NOW. I mean, THEN.
You know, when I looked like me.
Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly