Under Re-Construction.
That look, a reminder of a former self, a self that was better than this version now. That man I used to be, he was so much better than me now. He was muscular and cool, though he didn't see it at the time. This man gets brought back up whenever he is reminded of the superficial presentation of others he used to be, "in the mix" with.
That man, that front of a person, for he lacked anything real, he is exactly as I remember him, anything anyone else liked. He was a ghost, a mirage, giving everybody everything they ever wanted, at the cost of him. This was not noble, or, "nice" it was for selfish gain, for you to like him and gather admiration. Even a cloud or fog finds resistance to an airplane to vehicle passing through. He wasn't valuable, but was merely Santa's bag, giving the kids whatever they asked for.
His own wealth put off, converted to a currency of here and now, that same "now," that is over, with no lasting benefit. He contributed to the ways he secretly despised. He wasn't a positive person, but rather the opposite. How could he be a positive contributor? How could this man be of any benefit to anyone that didn't benefit him, lacking strength, assertiveness? He was dying, everyday, getting closer to death where he could finally rest. The life he chose was not real and he was just waiting to lose.
These pictures now, these images, that self, his behaviors, the, "mix" he put himself in, that is over, for he no longer belongs. He no longer has to, "keep up" or even more consuming, "be better than." There is no competition. There are no winners and losers. There is God, he watches over His people and He did not give him the power to judge, therefore deeming him equal to others. A peace he can only find in humility, being grateful to be equal, grateful to be less than the almighty. He is blessed to be insignificant and have a self that lacks confidence at times. Going into a situation lacking arrogance and instead willing, for this is a quality he has always admired about others.
When an animal is wounded they cower, go into hiding. They need to recover, lick their wounds preparing to expose themselves to any other potential danger. The mind cannot distinguish between emotional pain and physical pain therefore hurt feels like hurt, with physical being the ladder. A man whom is at high risk of getting wounded through exposure to an environment he once thrived in and chose to walk away from, that hyper-competitive environment of ideal body images, strict routines, relentless pain and torture, never being good enough, that environment still reminds him of what he romanticizes as a, "better" former self.
One image, one picture, at the right time, and he is back. The flood of a former inadequate response to a low self-worth by concealing inadequacy through a body's presentation. This reaction is "triggered," as the addiction's community likes to use, multiple times a day. Vulnerabilities lowering awareness and apprehension, despite all logic, an obsession consumes. A justified reason to over-do anything, under eat, over workout, under sleep, all factors he is guilty of in the last two days even.
Balance is like a Ben and Jerry's Pint of ice cream, where four servings is four servings, no strings attached. The new, "lower calorie" ice cream treats that exist these days reinforce the inability to balance. These products say, "have it all" because we went ahead and took out what you could not regulate yourself. He cannot indulge the all-or-nothing mindset and instead has to keep a tolerance built to the old reliance of wanting more, needing more, needing to fill a void inside that he was unable to do himself.
That old version of me, reappears when things get hairy. When tough times arise and I feel unsafe and respond with a disgusting over-compensation. I crave real. Choosing to do so is not a Pinterest Meme's reach away, for I have to admit to my faults everyday. I have to be honest with myself in what I am doing. I have to be authentic in what I feel is good for me. Others will not get it, but they don't have to, because it is my life and I am being honest.
I know others can relate. I know there are more lonely people, alone than there are social people being social. I know that there are people like me thinking the worst of themselves, projecting on to others as though they couldn't possibly see any good inside. I know that people are hurting due to their ideals, core values, and early life experiences where we adapted to survive, only to sacrifice ourselves.
I realized this pain, wrote about it, submitted and was rejected for it. Even now, the book on my former self, my obsession with body Image, Castle-broken, available HERE, reeks with my own inadequacy. I fear the worst. I fear I will not only be rejected, turned away, but I will offend the reading community, the publisher who must have seen me as a charity case.
The tidal wave of self-doubt has to be ridden out to calmer waters, in my attempts to avoid I stand on the beach looking on, wishing I could get back out there.
I can.
 |
| 5 years ago! |
His own wealth put off, converted to a currency of here and now, that same "now," that is over, with no lasting benefit. He contributed to the ways he secretly despised. He wasn't a positive person, but rather the opposite. How could he be a positive contributor? How could this man be of any benefit to anyone that didn't benefit him, lacking strength, assertiveness? He was dying, everyday, getting closer to death where he could finally rest. The life he chose was not real and he was just waiting to lose.
These pictures now, these images, that self, his behaviors, the, "mix" he put himself in, that is over, for he no longer belongs. He no longer has to, "keep up" or even more consuming, "be better than." There is no competition. There are no winners and losers. There is God, he watches over His people and He did not give him the power to judge, therefore deeming him equal to others. A peace he can only find in humility, being grateful to be equal, grateful to be less than the almighty. He is blessed to be insignificant and have a self that lacks confidence at times. Going into a situation lacking arrogance and instead willing, for this is a quality he has always admired about others.
 |
| A selfie now. |
One image, one picture, at the right time, and he is back. The flood of a former inadequate response to a low self-worth by concealing inadequacy through a body's presentation. This reaction is "triggered," as the addiction's community likes to use, multiple times a day. Vulnerabilities lowering awareness and apprehension, despite all logic, an obsession consumes. A justified reason to over-do anything, under eat, over workout, under sleep, all factors he is guilty of in the last two days even.
Balance is like a Ben and Jerry's Pint of ice cream, where four servings is four servings, no strings attached. The new, "lower calorie" ice cream treats that exist these days reinforce the inability to balance. These products say, "have it all" because we went ahead and took out what you could not regulate yourself. He cannot indulge the all-or-nothing mindset and instead has to keep a tolerance built to the old reliance of wanting more, needing more, needing to fill a void inside that he was unable to do himself.
That old version of me, reappears when things get hairy. When tough times arise and I feel unsafe and respond with a disgusting over-compensation. I crave real. Choosing to do so is not a Pinterest Meme's reach away, for I have to admit to my faults everyday. I have to be honest with myself in what I am doing. I have to be authentic in what I feel is good for me. Others will not get it, but they don't have to, because it is my life and I am being honest.I know others can relate. I know there are more lonely people, alone than there are social people being social. I know that there are people like me thinking the worst of themselves, projecting on to others as though they couldn't possibly see any good inside. I know that people are hurting due to their ideals, core values, and early life experiences where we adapted to survive, only to sacrifice ourselves.
I realized this pain, wrote about it, submitted and was rejected for it. Even now, the book on my former self, my obsession with body Image, Castle-broken, available HERE, reeks with my own inadequacy. I fear the worst. I fear I will not only be rejected, turned away, but I will offend the reading community, the publisher who must have seen me as a charity case.
The tidal wave of self-doubt has to be ridden out to calmer waters, in my attempts to avoid I stand on the beach looking on, wishing I could get back out there.
I can.
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