Thin Inside, Fat Outside vs Fat Inside, Thin Outside

One of the biggest problems that I have faced over the last several years of weight loss and weight gain, has been the conflict between the internal body image and the external body size.

When I am heavy, I often find myself bumping into objects and not being able to determine where I "fit" within a defined space. It is as if I am completely unaware of my external body size. When this situation occurs, it is because my internal body awareness is that of a smaller body shape and size when physically I am not. In my mind's eye, I perceive myself to be the same shape and size that I was when I was in my mid 20's. During these times I feel thin inside but I am fat outside.

When I lose weight, as I am doing now, I have the opposite problem. When I look in the mirror or see a picture of myself, I cannot see the reduction of weight. Truthfully, I hardly ever look in the mirror because I don't like the reflection at all. I basically check to see if I have all of my teeth and whether or not my hair has fallen out. I don't ever look in a full length mirror. I ask Chris how I look. When I look in the mirror all I see are the lines, wrinkles and fat. What I feel is fat inside when actually I am thin outside.

So like every other person who suffers from an eating disorder, I suffer from a skewed perception of body image; when internal perception and external size do not coincide. How do I fix this problem? I don't know.

I think that there are two main influences that add confusion to this problem. The first being what society presents beauty. I look at magazines, billboards, TV ads etc. I see those thin women, with toned stomachs and wind swept blond hair wearing bikinis and I envy their beauty. Cognitively, I know that the images are an illusion and that I will never look like that (and that in fact, no one can), but I desire it! Therefore, any skewed perceptions I have of my body are further compounded by my desire for the illusion of optimal beauty.

The second influence is that of plastic surgery. I mean, if I could look younger, why the hell wouldn't I? Youth, or the appearance of youth is paramount in our society. And within that desire for youth, I carry all the memories of what youth held for me. I was able to expend huge amounts of energy and accomplish pretty incredible things without consequence. I remember the flexibility and stamina of by body and the silkiness of my skin. So, except for the constraints of finances, why wouldn't I strive to regain that youthful look. Who wouldn't trade just about anything to hold onto the memories they currently have and turn back the clock to recapture those airbrushed features that youth once held for us? And that is exactly what plastic surgery offers us. Youth under a knife and knowledge with out repercussion.

So my adventure, as I continue to loose weight, is to find a way to join the two parts of myself so that my internal perception and the external reality mesh into one whole person.

Now I see!

Finally, I am beginning to see the weight loss!

Why am I not able to see it when I look in the mirror is the real question? I wonder if it is because I don't really look at myself. I am always so unhappy with my reflection that I no longer really look at myself, just a quick glance to make sure I still have all my teeth and my hair hasn't fallen out. I haven't really looked in a full length mirror for years. I usually just ask Chris if I look okay. I think the worst part about this is that when I do look in the mirror all I see are flaws. The lines and wrinkles around my mouth and eyes, and how fat I am. So even f I do try to be positive, all I can see is the negative.

This is going to have to change. Slowly, but it will have to change.

Picture Update

June 19, 2007


September 12, 2007



Okay, guys. I know that the scale says that I have lost 67lbs. But all I see is fat, fat, fat!. Talk about body image problems.

No Pasta High Today

I finally got around to making a batch of tomato sauce. This is no ordinary tomato sauce either. I make it with the tomatoes that Shelna and I canned ourselves. I use organic garlic, shallots, basil and parsley all lovely picked from my garden. I simmer it for hours and when it finishes cooking it is like the angels themselves have kissed it for just the right amount of sweetness.

So there I am salivating over the though of eating my first bowl of pasta tossed with my own sauce with delicate sprinkle with Romano cheese. I start to reminiscing as to how much pleasure I got when eating such wonderful food. Gingerly, I start to eat and wait for signs that my pouch is okay. No problem, and so I eat a bit more. I gleefully went through my 1/2 cup of pasta. And then I just sat there.

Suddenly I realized there the afterglow that I have always felt after eating pasta was not there. In fact, other than being pleased with the fact that I didn't throw up, there is really no sensation at all. Don't get me wrong, the flavour was out of this world, but the calmness and sense of satiation was missing.

I can't begin to tell you how disappointing it was. My favorite food had become mundane. There was no pasta high for me and I don't know if I will every have one again. I am so sad.