A Sensitive Topic

A couple nights ago I wrote a set piece on a sensitive topic of mine. Body image. It's a little bit scary that these words came from my brain to be honest. But the thing is, that means they lived there for a while and I need to evict them. 

She pulls off her shirt and stares. Examines every curve, every bulge. She hates it. She pulls at the soft parts and wishes them away. They remain. She pulls, tugs, stretches, and almost cuts, but stops herself. She cries softly, wondering if she could have somehow done better, to not let them appear. She wishes through the tears over and over, Please not again, I can't do this again. She hates herself. Her only comfort has left her, and its return is uncertain.

Okay, time to fess up. Yes, she is me. No, I have not almost cut myself. But it was a way of expressing the intensity of the thoughts and hate within my mind. My thoughts and distaste for the excess parts of me are razor sharp. I think about it often. My biggest fear is becoming overweight again. At one point, I was. Some people may not believe that, but for a time I was medically overweight. And the comfort I wrote about was running. It was one of my few comforts when I was feeling down, and I am uncertain about how well I will be able to run now. Before if I felt a little pudgier, I could run it out and I would feel better. I can't do that anymore. 

Well all of my writing is depressing, especially when it is about what goes on in my head. Oops.