“Don’t sabotage yourself. There are plenty of other people willing to do that for free.”
― Jenny Lawson, Furiously Happy: A Funny Book About Horrible Things

There’s a saboteur in my house.

It’s me.

Every day I plan to eat well, walk, lose weight, be happy. Some days I succeed. Other days I fail miserably.

“God, you’re fat.”

“Why did you eat that!”

“Get off your fat ass.”

“You’re lazy and pathetic.”

“You should be ashamed.”

“Get it together.”

“You’re so ugly.”

“You should just die, they’d be better off without you.”

These and many more are the voices in my head.

They won’t go away. I try. I keep trying, but they are my constant companions in life and, I think, they have always been there. They tell me that I’m not as smart as people believe, that I don’t deserve the happiness I do have, that I am useless, that I will never get published, never amount to anything. Being mom will be my only achievement in this life, and I suck at even that.

People tell me otherwise, even my daughter tells me I’m not fat (sweet, but not true). I never used to be this big. I’m short (5’1″) so any extra weight is too much especially when dealing with MS, Asthma, Arthritis, etc. My doctor tells me I physically can’t lose the weight. That my body is my enemy and it wants to store whatever it can thanks to my heightened stress system.

I hit a new low a couple of weeks ago. I took my 2 year old and 16 year old skating. I want to teach my 2 year old to skate (he LOVES hockey). I couldn’t even stay on my skates – it felt like someone was breaking my feet and I wish that was an exaggeration. It isn’t. Just another notch to whine about. I hate sounding whiny. I hate my body.

In my mind, I can picture a smaller me – she’s buried under a coat of fat, hiding from the world. She’s slim and fit and healthy. She just can’t seem to slough off that coat, no matter how hard she wants it or how hard she tries. She’s in there, screaming to get out. She’s desperate to feel the breeze on her skin, but the harsh outer layer won’t allow it. Instead she continues to struggle under it all, and every now and then I catch a glimpse of her. She’s there, under it all, trying to find a way out. She wants to have energy to play with her kids, to be outside and active, to camp, to run, to hike, to be happy. She’s going to keep fighting and hopefully will one day win, but time is not on her side. She is aging and her will is eroded by all the weight she is under.

Beastie Boys – Sabotage