My weight

Since my diabetes was diagnosed and I've started injecting insulin (I almost wrote heroin for some reason) I have put back on some of the weight I lost. The loss of weight and the speed at which it happened was due to my pancreas not making insulin and my body not converting the energy in the food. I was basically urinating sugar and so no weight was gained and indeed I began to shed it. Oh those lovely days of just eating what I wanted and as much as I wanted. It made the constant thirst, constant weeing, exhaustion and thrush from hell almost bearable. Actually it was awful, but I wore skinny jeans for the first time in a long time.

I got down to eleven stone and a size 12. This was great, but I still wanted to loose more weight. I have always wanted to loose another half a stone. I am never happy. I wonder if I would be like this if I got down to something silly (for me) like seven stone. When I have been at my thinnest, which is usually through tragic heartbreak or even the time I was bulimic, I still look in the mirror and see a fat person. I was talking to a friend about my body dis morphia the other day and she described me looking 'thin' in some photo's. I never see this. I also talked to John about wanting to be happy with the way my body is. I like my clothes, I more than often am pleased with how I look in my clothes, but I always have in my mind that the way I look will be temporary. An example of this is I would love a pair of 'designer jeans'. I wear jeans all the time and would love to splash out on a pair by 7 for all mankind or similar, but I never ever do because I say 'I want to get them when I've lost some weight'. Why not just get them now and be happy? Why always feel so fat?

I talked to John about something that happened to me when I was about ten or eleven. To this day I think about it often, vividly and it always makes me cry. I think John is actually the first person I've talked to about it. I was walking along past the shops in South End Green (now Starbucks and Blue Daisy) and outside the then cinema was a queue of people, mostly kids, waiting to see a film. One of the boys shouted over at me, in the loudest voice 'Oi Sally, you fat shit.' I was absolutely mortified (I'm crying again) and really hoped my Dad hadn't heard and by some miracle he hadn't, because a lot of people had. The children in the queue all laughed and I just wanted to curl up and die. This boy is someone we all know from school.

He was actually quite popular and a hit with the girls. I spent all of our time at Hampstead avoiding him at all costs. There were times when we were at the same parties and gatherings but I don't think I actually spoke to him until we left school and were in our twenties and to be honest he seemed ok. We were even friends on Facebook, but I removed him as we were never friends in real life and he hardly used the site. I think this incident has had more of an effect on me than I've realised. It still is very fresh despite happening 25 years ago and I never have spoken of it (at least I don't think I have, you will know if it's something I shared). I know it was a throwaway comment and a young lad trying to impress his friends, but to be honest I don't think he'd be sorry if I told him what he did or indeed I doubt he'd remember.

So I really do want to try and just be happy with me and my body. I love how Gok Wan makes the women on how to look good naked love their bodies and shows them how well they can dress. I really want to be like that. I suppose the first hurdle is recognising I have a problem and hopefully I will deal with it.

Love to you all

S

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