A couple of years ago I lost about 15 pounds. It was a noticeable weight loss on my 5'4" frame. I lost count of how often I was asked how I did it. I usually vaguely replied that I had been sick with some stomach thing. Secretly I was tempted to give them the actual reason and say it in my chirpiest voice: "Why, it's crippling depression....but I don't recommend it for everyone." There was an irony that the time in my life when I got the most compliments was also the darkest. Friends, acquaintances and even strangers seemed almost eager to tell me how great I looked.
At any other time fitting into a smaller size would have made me very happy. However, I was the most miserable that I had ever been in my life. My marriage fell apart as we were approaching our tenth anniversary. I went into a depression that seemed to envelope me. Every day was endless and insurmountable. Everything seemed meaningless, especially food. I just couldn't eat. My appetite was gone. I lost weight without intending to. Spend entire weekends in bed without hardly getting up and exist on an English muffin a day and you can, too. Not the right way to shed pounds by any stretch of the imagination.
I read with interest Barbara's very honest posting of struggling to make sense of why bad things happen (What Matters). Her faith gave her the strength to see that sometimes life doesn't make sense and there's no logic with tragedy. My experience showed me that some times life can just suck. And then when you think it can't suck any worse, somehow it does. I would feel like I had fought my way out of a deep dark hole only to have the ground give out underneath me and fall right back down.
It took a long time to fight my way back to "normal." I discovered a strength and support system I didn't know I had. It still moves me to tears the compassion I found in my friends and family.
The weight came back on eventually, plus a little more. And I was okay with it. I thought it was part of the healing process, proof I was getting better. My emotional health seemed more important than my jean size. It's a lesson I always keep close to remind myself when weight concerns creep in. We are so much more than the numbers on the bathroom scale or on our clothes. Those numbers don't define us, don't represent who we truly are. Where our bodies curve or don't curve doesn't reflect what is in our hearts and in our minds. Numbers are only important if we make them. My happiness doesn't depend on my waist size. It comes from within and no arbitrary number should take that away.
Post originally appeared on http://www.delayedreactionlounge.blogspot.com/
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