*Possible trigger warning for food related anxiety

On my way home from work yesterday, stuck in traffic as usual, the classic Sister Sledge song, “We are Family” came on and it was the second verse that stood out most:

Living life is fun and we’ve just begun
To get our share of the world’s delights
(HIGH!) high hopes we have for the future
And our goal’s in sight
(WE!) no we don’t get depressed
Here’s what we call our golden rule
Have faith in you and the things you do
You won’t go wrong
This is our family Jewel

And it of course made me think of my current situation and the fat liberation/acceptance community. I keep questioning myself, my sanity, my choices in life, all of it and yet I advise others to be true to themselves and to live the life they want. My life is in chaos and I need to honor the fact that I am an emotional wreck and can’t take on other shit right now. I don’t know why I thought moving out on my own would give me some sort of mystical clarity and life purpose/meaning. All it has really done is confuse the shit out of me, but so be it.

Last night I found myself in an interesting predicament. I was very hungry and in need of dinner. I had intended to cook my meal here in my new place but even considering it, picturing, made me freeze up in a state of severe anxiety. This happened last Saturday as well due to my state of anguish over the events of the day. I began to cry. I have been doing a lot of that lately, but whatever. On Saturday I knew I was hungry but willfully ignored it. Even when my stomach began to groan and churn, I was so caught up in my emotions that I was able to set the hunger aside. Finally I gave into it and made myself a sandwich. After I took the first bite I instantly felt better. I wondered why I waited to eat for so long. Then I realized that besides my morning coffee, that was the first solid food I’d had that entire day. I’d gotten up around 9am, but that sandwich didn’t happen until after 7pm.

Last night I spent at least an hour trying to ignore my hunger. I was feeling very down in the dumps and while my hopes were raised for a brief moment, they were soon set back down. I wanted to cook and had intended to. I pictured the foods in the fridge that I would need to prepare and I froze up! I began to cry! I couldn’t even stand up, let alone walk to the kitchen. It’s an actual kitchen, too. Not an apartment one. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it or even face it. I talked to friends online and that helped a bit. I then decided I needed to get some air, to cool my head and to distract myself in a new way before I could face the food thing again. And I drove merely four blocks! There’s a Jack in the Box nearby and while it wasn’t my plan, it was an easy choice. I’m sort of stuck on their chicken teriyaki bowl. And once again, the moment I took that first bite? I felt better!

I have yet to cook a meal for myself in my new place. I don’t know why this is such an obstacle for me. I don’t know why the thought of it makes my breath catch in my throat and the tears to come to my eyes. But the minute I stepped outside I felt a little bit better about the situation. Food has not previously been a problem for me. Deciding what to eat is a daily issue, but I manage. But this new thing? DO NOT WANT!!! I don’t even know where it came from. I loved to cook at home with or without my husband before this. Perhaps it’s because I don’t know where things are or go or how to use a gas stove (I mean, I think I could manage). I don’t know, man. It’s intimidating in that way, but why would I react in this way?

I think it’s because I’m questioning myself so damned much. Because I’m not listening to my own instincts. Because I don’t have faith in the things I do and feel and think. I am spending so much time in my head thinking and rethinking and over fucking thinking…I haven’t even really unpacked yet! I haven’t done the things I’d wanted to get done by now (taxes, much?!). I haven’t been taking good care of myself. I have hang nails for days, y’all! I haven’t put away clean laundry, I haven’t found a place for my dresses yet…I just can’t get beyond these silly mental blocks.

Luckily, I have friends. They know me and they check on me. They let me talk things out and bring me back down to earth again. They make me feel normal. They tell me to give myself time to figure things out if they even need to be figured. They call me out on my shit and say the harsh truths I need to hear. And every day is a new experience and an opportunity for me to learn from them and from life itself. I can’t explain why time doesn’t seem to be moving for me lately, but there ain’t shit I can do about it and I’m trying to let go.

So we need to work on this together. We need to have faith in the things we do, myself included! We need to stop questioning ourselves and start questioning authority and society! Because you know what? The problem can’t always be me/us. In fact, if we’re so caught up in the questioning and feeling uneasy thing, we can’t possibly live the lives we want or were meant to live. No fat body ever caused insanity. No fat flesh ever destroyed the morality of a society. No strong woman ever brought a nation to tragedy based purely upon her emotions or hormones. We’re lead to believe this bullshit, day in and day out, but rather than question it all we question ourselves. FUCK THAT!!!