Sept 1:Cruel Laughs and Body Dysmorphia
I didn’t want to workout today. I’m so tired, and so sore from yesterday’s workout.
But I remembered that I am disciplined, not just motivated. So I did my deep breaths, I did my yoga flow while I watched the sun come up over the trees and a soft glow hit the sky. I did my deep core circuit and kept working, going through moves that I’ve picked up from Sam and the Valkyrie Workouts she’s shared on Tiktok, and that she’s sent me to help with my weaknesses. I did the work until my eyes were full of sweat and my mat pelted with drops of my exertion. I felt so much better after working out, a little more energetic, a bit more awake, and feeling pride for getting outside and working out despite my mood.
I’ve been recording snippets of my workouts every few days, as a way to keep myself accountable, to have content for Tiktok, and a better way to track and correct my form, since I work out outside and not in front of a mirror or in a gym. I had just finished my last set, and my eldest daughter came outside to say good morning. She looked over my shoulder at my video from today and laughed. She laughed– at me, at the way my body looked while I moved. My heart broke right there.
“Breathe. It calmed her mind whenever Cassian led her through their exercises. So she let herself inhale-then slowly exhale. Again. A third time.”
The last few weeks I’ve stayed positive, I’ve worked really damn hard at staying positive. At not looking too hard, too long, at my body, because it’s not changing fast enough. Impatient to see the progress I feel in my muscles, under all those layers of depression I packed on. I’ve worked so hard at focusing on the little wins, the way my bra band fits differently, the way 8lbs doesn’t feel so heavy in my arms anymore, how easy it is to pick up my 5 year old these last few weeks. But when I heard her laugh at me, it all evaporated; like a drop of rain in drought- gone before it ever had a chance to hit the ground.
“There was only the red stone of the stairwell, and her jagged breathing, and the knives that had turned inward and sliced and sliced, the walls pushing in, her legs burning with each step downward. She didn’t want to be in her head, didn’t want to be in her body. Wanted the beating of drums and the riotous song of a fiddle to her fill her with sound, to silence any thought. Wanted to find a bottle of wine and drink deep, let the wine pull her out of herself, set her mind drifting and numb.” page 211 of A Court of Silver Flame
The breathing didn’t help me stop hearing her laugh at me. It didn’t stop the thoughts from intruding, flooding my brain and my chest and filling my stomach with stone. It didn’t stop the tears from falling as I felt shame and defeat for the first time in weeks. Just typing this out, I’m holding back those tears, choking on them.
I walked 4 laps with Yrsa, and then we walked 4 more. I couldn’t stop until the broken record of all my self-doubt and depression and my daughters laughter at me no longer stabbed at my pride and tore chunks out of my resolve. I walked until my legs and lungs burned and my side cramped. Only two miles, but realistically I couldn’t just walk endlessly, I do have to take care of my family. So I walked until the noise was dulled enough that I could go back in the house and face the rest of the day. Today is the first day back to home school for my kids, so I have a lot to do, and no room for emotions or intrusive depression.
so to quote the Suriel, “Only you can decide what breaks you.” That’s going to be my mantra for the day.
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