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I have decided that once we sell the other house (thus reducing our monthly expenses, hoooo boy), I will be a responsible grown-up and look into finding a personal trainer. One that has experience with people with fibromyalgia/MECFS, back issues, etc.
I don't want to. WOW, do I not want to. But I'm terrible about exercising, and I should probably talk to a professional about what exercise is *safe* for me to do.
(Oh hey, did you know that one of the side-effects/symptoms of MECFS is post-exertional malaise? As in prolonged physical activity leads to an even higher level of fatigue and exhaustion, and depressive swings? I mean, it's nice to know that it's not in my head, but the amount of research one has to do in order to learn anything about a chronic illness is ... frustrating. Let's leave it at that.)
IN ADDITION to all of this, the Body Image Demons are getting even louder. I really don't like my body. I am trying to make peace with my shape and size, but it's hard. I know those things don't define me or my worth, but messages instilled in childhood linger no matter how much therapy I go through.
One of the reasons for the BIDs upping their volume is that I've been thinking of outfits for the Vampire Masquerade Ball in May, and I had a delightful vision of an ivory frock coat, ivory skirts, and an ivory jabot, all appliqued with rhinestone & beads blood. And an ivory hat swathed in very sheer red tulle, also flecked with beads of blood. I was enthusiastically telling the Stroppy One about this, and he said, "It sounds striking. It also sounds like when you see photos of yourself in an all-ivory outfit, even with the blood spatter, you will be ... unhappy with them. Because I know you won't see the outfit, you'll focus obsessively on your size."
I don't want to. WOW, do I not want to. But I'm terrible about exercising, and I should probably talk to a professional about what exercise is *safe* for me to do.
(Oh hey, did you know that one of the side-effects/symptoms of MECFS is post-exertional malaise? As in prolonged physical activity leads to an even higher level of fatigue and exhaustion, and depressive swings? I mean, it's nice to know that it's not in my head, but the amount of research one has to do in order to learn anything about a chronic illness is ... frustrating. Let's leave it at that.)
IN ADDITION to all of this, the Body Image Demons are getting even louder. I really don't like my body. I am trying to make peace with my shape and size, but it's hard. I know those things don't define me or my worth, but messages instilled in childhood linger no matter how much therapy I go through.
One of the reasons for the BIDs upping their volume is that I've been thinking of outfits for the Vampire Masquerade Ball in May, and I had a delightful vision of an ivory frock coat, ivory skirts, and an ivory jabot, all appliqued with rhinestone & beads blood. And an ivory hat swathed in very sheer red tulle, also flecked with beads of blood. I was enthusiastically telling the Stroppy One about this, and he said, "It sounds striking. It also sounds like when you see photos of yourself in an all-ivory outfit, even with the blood spatter, you will be ... unhappy with them. Because I know you won't see the outfit, you'll focus obsessively on your size."
Dammit. He's not wrong, not even a little bit. So I had a bit of a cry, and am now trying to figure out if the same outfit idea would look as striking with a black frock coat. Considering how sparkly I'd make the blood appliques, almost certainly. But right now I am sad and hate my body even more than usual.
So! That's the state of me, ugh. I want to strangle the Body Image Demons. 