A Rambling Plea

No. No. No. I’m tired of Prettiness being All that and a Box of Chocolate. I friggin love dressing up! I love getting all dolled up and feeling Beautiful and even Sexy! What I hate is how people react. There are very few people who I enjoy a compliment about my looks. Very very few people. And NO - don’t give me that shit. I KNOW what it feels like to Be UGLY. I was. And not because of my weight. But because on top of around 300 pounds I also was Severely Depressed and Anxiety Ridden. I was haggard, worn and Miserable. I didn’t like myself, had Zero Confidence and Simply wanted to Die. Yeah - I was fucking UGLY.

Now? Now I want to Live - like Truly Live. Live for God. Following Him is fucking hard, but my looks have transformed in this Pilgrim’s Progress. And those are the Compliments I LOVE. Because they have nothing to do with me, but with God. They aren’t shallow or superficial, but meaningful. But compliments on my weight? Worthless to me. I’m sorry if you’ve done this and are now reading - but it’s the Truth. I LOATHE Compliments on my weight. I take them with a thank you, because the person is being kind. But I ABHOR them. Why?

Because I truly believe you have your priorities Incredibly Screwed up to think a person’s WORTH is based on their weight. I’m not saying that my friends and family who compliment me necessarily think this. But the majority of people who I come into contact with in The World and in The Church - DO. They don’t know this, but I have been on both ends of the Extreme. As an adult my weight has fluctuated Drastically Several times. I have been below 100 pounds and over 200 enough times I have more stretch marks than the average mother - and that is NOT an exaggeration.

And do you know what I learned? I was worth more: my opinion, my attention, my company, etc. These were all sought after whenever I was skinny. When I was Big? No, people assumed I must not be doing well. I must be depressed to be that big. And while that was often true, it struck me dumb when I realized that people had a tendency to think I was doing WELL when I dropped weight. How Clueless are people? Let me clue you in on something that is Incredibly Basic but often brushed off as UnImportant. I, and many others - eat when depressed. Yeah - I know you know that. Second half of this BASIC, but IMPORTANT Knowledge - People who Struggle with Severe Anxiety - Cannot Eat. Not WILL NOT. CANNOT. Do you Understand? You say you do, but how come I get jokes about how “Well I’d rather not be able to eat than overeat.” Fuck That. Fuck that society has conditioned people to make such a flippant and callous “joke”. Do you realize how fucked up that is? I’m not a girl who is bragging that she missed a meal through a mock complaint. Do you know what it’s like to live with constant nausea? If you’re a mother - there’s a good chance you do. Why the hell would you joke that you want that?! I FUCKING Hate it! To be hungry but also nauseous! To eventually have eaten so little you stop being hungry alltogether, just nauseous at the thought of eating. Do you know what happens then? Not only do you lose the weight from extra fat cells, but also your muscle. I couldn’t pick up a plate of food at a restaurant to serve at table, I had lost so much of my muscle. I didn’t do drugs then, or even drink - I was too nauseous to do either of those either. And then I started shaking, constantly. It never stopped. A constant tremor that I could turn into a party trick simply by showing people my palms relaxed. You could see the outline of EVERY Single one of my ribs. My spine looked like something you would find in the Science Museum on display. And let me remind you that this isn’t anorexia, which is a whole different problem. This is Extreme Anxiety after a couple months. And nausea is only one of the many symptoms of course. Suicide Attempts will follow not long after it gets this severe. Another difference between the underlying causes for overeating and undereating in many cases similar to mine. Depression to an Extreme will be easy to be seen, although rarely understood. Anxiety - people can’t see it or understand it. Depression to an Extreme had me in bed for 6 months. Dropping out of school, quitting my job, just laying in bed, day after day. Just waiting for the end. Wishing you could fall asleep and never wake up. Anxiety - it doesn’t work the same. There are Many Unhealthy Coping Methods for Anxiety to get you through the day looking “Normal”. Physical Pain topping the list. They will also eventually get you killed. No - cutting may be safe if you do it right, but that’s not what I’m saying. Because it’s a Temporary Fix. Believe me. I never cut, because I knew how much I would crave it. But I had my own outlets in the realm of physical pain. And mine left deeper scars than cutting can. Severe Anxiety is Caused by Fucking Deep-Ass Pain. Unhealthy Coping methods are like those movies where an accident happens and someone rips off their shirt to put pressure on a mortal wound. You are Dying...from the inside-out. You need more than pressure and someone’s T-shirt.

Anxiety is NOT Something to Fucking Joke about. And while I don’t blame people for being unable to see my anxiety, when I have Perfected the Craft of Hiding it. Although - God has been Slowly Guiding me to Trust People to let it show, which SUCKS. I cannot tell you how hard it has been to be doing SO POORLY. To Be Constantly Anxious that I am Physically Ill. To be barely holding it together and it’s starting to show in my weight-loss. To have someone come up to me and I am concentrating so hard on smiling, on getting through the day and then to have them say compliment my looks and if they know me, they typically add that their glad I’m doing “So Well.” That. That is when I want to flee. That moment when weight goes hand-in-hand with my worth. Oh - you didn’t make that leap? People who aren’t “Doing Well” aren’t worth anything. Didn’t you know that? If you’re not a Productive Member of Society than you misewell just kill yourself now. Oh don’t worry - God didn’t let me die no matter how many times I caved to this perpetuated social norm.

I am SO SICK of people thinking they are Better than others. I am BEYOND Exhausted Dealing with the Pride SO Prevalent in The Church. Everyone has faults and I HATE my own. But thinking you’re better or worth more than another just makes me ILL. If you think a person’s Worth is measured by their weight, by their college degree, career choice, type of addiction aka. Idol, their wardrobe, age, Life Choices - You. Are. A. FOOL. Oh Hell Yes - I am often a Fool. I do not deny this. I accept it with eagerness. I mean - if I had an idiotic notion that I wasn’t - Christ wouldn’t be able to fix me. I KNOW I am Broken. But God is making me anew. He is Transforming me each and every day. Even though the sin in my heart, in the hearts of other and even the world - is Constantly damaging the Masterpiece He once designed me to be. And yet - He keeps working. The Never-ending project of my Soul. He watches as I smash a Beautiful Piece of my own Soul, that He Designed, in Rage. But what does He do? He stands stalwart as I beat Him with my fists, until my anger turns to Pain. And then He holds me close as I begin to sob. How often have I fallen asleep in His arms from just this scenario? Lulled to sleep by the Reminder that He will Never Leave me. He will Never Forsake me. I can’t run away from Him. I can’t even run Him off. I’m stuck with Him, no matter how little I deserve it. Because nobody does. No matter who you are or where you are in Life - NOBODY Deserves to be saved. Nobody is Worth More. I don’t know why He picked me - but I thank You GOD that You did. And this is what I Plead. Of You and others. Let people see the Beauty of God in me. Please. I do not appreciate the body you gave me as I should, and for that I am sorry. But I Beg of You. Let my Worth be seen through other gifts you have given me. Not that one. Please. I want to enjoy the idea that I may be pretty. And right now - I simply don’t. Please.