It is no secret I have fought hard not to let PCOS define me. It is no secret I suffered a SCAD heart attack while thin, causing me to be sent home during a said heart attack because “I didn’t look like someone having a heart attack.”
Fast forward to today. I get the gift of COVID while attending an outdoor music festival. This festival celebrated that I survived 17 units of college while working and being a mom to two kids, well, three by the end of the semester. I attended the festival to start my week off before summer school, and then a facial would end my week. No, instead, I’m writing this post and changing things.
I have done pretty well with my friend COVID. I have not had a fever since Friday am, and other than being tired, I was good. I received the call yesterday that my doctors want me on a prescription called Paxlovid. They said I am considered high risk. I have Fibromuscular Dysplasia and have a dissection in my neck right now. I figure, though, they assume I’m an untreated diabetic because I take metformin and Victoza. So this little visit from COVID now woke my body dysmorphia.
I wish I had the calm in me like those who accept their bodies for how they are. It would be awesome to feel good about my body like Lizzo. I am not anywhere near feeling good about my body. The previous judgment for either being thin or obese has shown me the judgment one can receive based on their body size or physicians not reading an individual’s medical history.
I write this because I don’t want to go to a dark place. I write this because I know I am not the only one who has felt judged by the medical field. I write this because I do not like my body today. I write this because these feelings are not facts. I will keep writing on my journey: the good and the bad. My hope is one day, I can be happy in my skin and not worry about judgment. It looks like it took a COVID medication to get me writing. So be it.
Twenty-Nine days in, and I am still stuck in body dysmorphia. Why can’t it just be easier to lose weight? I get it, I have PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome), FMD (Fibromuscular Dysplasia), and I am not twenty anymore. I understand it is harder for me than others to lose weight, but it does not make me feel any better about the situation. It is a hard day today, and here are some of the roadblocks I have found that I do in which the journey is even harder:
- I feel punished. I cannot eat like other people because I am supposed to eat gluten and dairy-free. With PCOS, it is suggested not to eat a “poor man’s diet,” and although I find that term off-putting, the way it was described to me was not to eat white bread (high carbs), potatoes (starches), and high sugar fruit and snacks. I feel like I will never be able to eat these things, and then I do. It is not that I eat a ton, but even a little for me is too much. I have to remember I am not being punished for having PCOS and other medical conditions. There are people allergic to nuts and other foods, and they are not being punished either. I need to remember my body is just different.
- I am too concerned with the scale. I weigh myself daily, which can impact my mood. I try not to but then, even when I am doing the right things, but the scale is not showing the results, it can make me feel even worse about myself. I realize I give this object too much power.
- I have a drawer filled with the clothes I wore before my health issues began in 2016. I am not that same person from five years ago.
I am learning to be in acceptance which I see as an ongoing journey. I am making progress, not perfection, with the way my body is today. I have a partner who accepts me for me, and he loves my body no matter what, and he tells me that I need to see my body is perfect as it is. He means well, but this journey for me has been a long and hard one.
A new step I have taken to being kinder to me is I have just started the podcast “Body Image with Bri,” which I hope will help me be in more acceptance within my body no matter what I weigh or what size I wear.
Growth can be hard but without it you remain stuck and I want to grow. We only have this one life to enjoy.
Until next time….
I’ve missed quite a few blogging days, but life indeed does happen. Since the 1st of July, when I last wrote, the kitten we adopted needed to be put down. It turns out he was born with Parvo, and he was just too sick. He was only 1.8 lbs when I was at the emergency vet with him. It was a hard decision to make.
I’ve also started a side job to help with life within our joint family as my partner has been going through it since he’s in production. Times genuinely are tough for so many right now.
I’ve found that I need to take better care of myself when it comes to perceiving myself. I am too hard on myself and in many ways. I have been struggling, which comes to no surprise with my weight. I fear that if I am overweight, people, strangers will judge that possibly I overeat or I have no discipline, but that is not the case.
I listened to this podcast over the weekend where a woman talked of body positivity. She discussed mourning the clothes we have for when we “lose” the weight we have gained. I’m going to work on mourning that bottom drawer in my dresser.
Some days it does feel like I’m trying to tackle so much to feel good about myself, but I need to remember sometimes slowly and more thoroughly is the best way.
Until tomorrow….you know unless life happens a little too much.