Today’s prompt is about misfits and writing what we normally not write about.
When I was walking home with my friends, we got to talking about pizza, shoarma and fries. We had a party yesterday, having a bit of a hangover I craved for this fat. I don’t know what it is, if you think about this rationally, you might argue that my body wants to have healthy food after being poisoned the whole night, but noooo, my belly says: pizza with lots of cheese! And more cheese! And then some ice cream. Wouldn’t that be lovely?!
The thing is, in my opinion, there is nothing wrong with a pizza with extra cheese every now and then, but when that ‘then’ is becoming more ‘now’, it’s starting to become a problem. Apart from the fact that I feel thick and ugly (which I will discuss later), I can’t fit into the clothes anymore. And because I am saving for my travel months in December, buying new clothes in not really an attractive option.
Okay, here it goes (very personal stuff about to be told): I have gained almost ten kilo’s in the last year. The thing is, my weight issues is one of the reasons I have postponed my medication for my depression. Being depressed, I felt ugly and nobody-is-going-to-love-me enough, so I argued: if I take these medication and I gain ten kilo’s, well, surely nobody is going to love then.
Somewhere down the road I did decide to take these medications and thank God I did, because if not, well, to be honest, I can’t be really sure that I would still be here. But I did gain these ten kilo’s. In that year though, I have learned to love myself more (I can still work on that) and be more proud of who I am. Even with these kilo’s.
Now that the clothes issue is popping up, however, the ideas are changing. In this last year, I learned to love me for who I am and to give less shit about what other people might think. This also applies to food. If I see a nice cake and I am really in the mood for cake, I am going to order this cake. Because, hey, I want that cake. Who are you to stop me?!
This attitude is good, I think, because, it is my body, I can do whatever the fuck I want. But, in some perspective, it’s also very aggressive, it’s almost that I am not sure of what I really want or particularly what I want is good. Because if I was really sure, why should I be shouting it off the rooftops? Why not indulge in silence?
Why eat healthy at all, you might ask. Last few weeks I have been very tired. Sure, I have been to some parties, but most nights I am sleeping at least eight hours and therefor I should be at my best. Yesterday, at the party, I was yawning at eleven and that’s not because it was a boring party (it sure as hell wasn’t). I think my eating patterns are at least partly responsible for it. So, I thought: I could at least try to eat healthy and see if it is that.
But I could not help but ask myself: why so black and white? I mean, this is something I am realising more and more, first I was very ‘I shouldn’t eat this, because that makes me a bad person’ (I did eat it, so imagine how I felt about myself), now I am pretty much like ‘I should eat this, because fuck you’. Is there a compromise, a way in the middle, a very famous, Dutch Poldermodel for this?
Please tell me, because I haven’t it figured out yet. All I decided to do this afternoon, is to say goodbye to my friends, because with my very gezellige (which is untranslatable, but means something like: nice, cosy) friends I eat more. I even stimulate them to eat more. So, I walked a different route home and they understood, it’s the stimuli which makes me sway of course.
Let’s get things straight, my friends aren’t to blame at all, I make these incentives even when they are not around. The famous: ‘I deserve this’, or ‘poor me, I need this candy’. Eating healthy is a choice, and a good one. At least I should give it a chance. I went home alone, chopped up my fresh veggies and made myself some delicious green curry. A good start, but how long will it last. (I am getting hungry while writing this)