it's really easy this morning to question why my life seems to keep bumping up against difficulties. Why me? why do I have lawyers to whom I have paid nearly 10,000 yet cant seem to get to call me back? Why do I continue to fight for employment accommodations? Why dont my things on ebay sell? Why do I have kids and an ex who dont seem to understand my disease? Including monetary issues? I will not be able to retire this year via a medical leave solely because my bills keep mounting. Some of it is my fault, I know. I am feeling pretty crummy about my image and am trying to cover it up by wearing new clothing, which I know I wont need once I retire. It is as though my fantasy life is separate from my real life; I am looking for a sexy little black dress to help me feel sexy, when in fact, sexy should come from within.
My daughter and I went shopping yesterday. She pulled out a slinky jumpsuit, laughing, for me to try on. It looked so horrible on me that I wouldnt show her. I had purchased a black skirt, blouse, sweater and camisole at Nordstrom's because the sales clerk was so sweet, so I was returning the stuff at a different store. I returned it all, and then spent 80 on clothes for her, using a credit card. Throughout the course of our trip she discovered that 1. I had bought on credit. 2. I was self conscious about my body. She was surprised that i would be "the kind of person" who suffered from a poor body image. I explained that it has been just since DBS, when I put on 20 pounds of fat (which is a very common side effect for women). I do not over eat and I am more active than ever, but the weight lands right on my bum and thighs and i hate this. So I look at myself in the mirror and see my mom. Yuck. I dont want my daughter (my youngest) to dislike my sense of self as much as I disliked my mother's. She hated her body; was always dieting and wearing clothes too tight because she wanted to lose weight to fit into them. I vowed I would not be this type of woman, and here I am.
The season's fashions, not that it should matter, consist of slim pencil skirts and leggings. These are for women whose bums are not 12 inches larger than their waists. My hourglass figure doesnt look good in these, and I am acutely aware of it. Then I grab ahold of myself and scold myself into accepting what is, is. I will age, grow older, and I WILL do it as gracefully as I can. I am not exactly obese, and my body still moves ok, most of the time. I miss my old body, though, i guess, my in-between body. I recall the clothes I have outgrown with an inflated fondness. I don't go out and party like a rock star anymore, so I dont need the clothes or the body to do it.
Sigh. Some times I miss it, though. I miss feeling sexy and beautiful and dressing up and getting attention for it.
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