Loving my body...

I came into the kitchen last night and Bruce said, "gosh, Dreadly looks even bigger now than when you started," I told him that it was exactly the same, but I just wasn't holding it in anymore. There is much truth to it being more inflammed as Dreadlys are fighting inside me but I haven't taken the time to measure it. I have been walking around looking like I was six to seven months pregnant, but jacking myself any way I could to look normal. I felt sad about this even as I lay in bed last night - I had taken a pain pill and was dozing when I realized that I wasn't relaxed at all. I was holding my stomach in because I have gotten so used to doing it without thinking.

Think back when you ladies were pregnant and the day you decided to just "be" pregnant and quit fighting the real clothes. My waist started at a 33ish, and slowly went up 34, 36, 37, 39,to a 40, 39 , 40, 39, 40... which it is now. It never made any sense because (a) I have bird legs, (b) no butt, (c) small ribcage etc etc. This was a slow process that never made sense to me.

*make a note to yourself that if things don't make sense that (nope) they don't...

I had packed (drank) on an extra 20 after mummy died mad at me, so that even hid the problem more. Finding out that families like the Dreadlys love acidic foods like booze, bread, and sugar was telling. Last year was my most accountable year ever for nutrition and I had lost around fifteen lbs. Without the tumor I am thinking I was probably around 140. But I continued to beat myself to a pulp. Anyone around me knows that I torture myself with workout more than anyone they know , cuz Sal has T/Tencity D/Drive and she is H/Hyper. I've always been manic and so much of this Lymphoma made no sense even to the doctors. Cholesteral - 175. Blood pressure 116/80, bone density of a twenty-year-old, and heart extra clean from my heart test. People who are sick tend to be tired. Not Sal. I can do two zumba classes, clean my house, run a mile and talk your ear off until (like) 2am. Caffeine?

I'll corner you.

Classic symptoms of Lymphoma:

* night sweats - none

*weight loss - yes but not really significant

* weakness - me? I am a bull

*painful lumps in neck or groin - nope

* exhausted - have you met me?

my symptoms:

* looking pregnant (remember this was over a long period of time)

* uncomfortable lying on my belly

* needing to sit up at night and sleep that way

* began to live on Tums - (uh) yes, at this point Dreadly Mama has taken over most of my stomach as her home.

Not being diagnosed has ruined my self esteem. I have never been a heavy woman but have looked pregnant since I can remember. Apparently this can cause inflammation years before but because I had no symptoms other than belly girth , it has been hard to recognize. A trainer once told me that she had never seen someone gain weight like that. Not being diagnosed sooner has also given me chronic tendonitis because my brain kept telling me that if I just worked out harder, or more frequently that my belly would go down.

*delivery of the Dreadly family would take more poison and blow-darts than just flanking them away.

So, as I am almost into a stupor from a pain pill, I found myself holding my stomach in. So sad. All those years, of trying to get dressed, hating summer, considering maternity (lying, I bought maternity *stop laughing, Brenda), Being wider than my husband, going to Lane Bryant for underwear, and buying XLs to fit my waist as they hung off my butt becoming second-nature. I am the queen of disguise with my clothes.

*No wait - I curtsy to my Brenda who is the Queen mother.

But a forty waist ain't easy to hide without a backache and a Xanax, and being reclusive isn't good for talkative, spirited me. I have determined every single way to hide my middle short of camping out in the closet and not going out at all. There are so many emotional layers to this that they are difficult to count. But the layer that I feel the most heavily on my soul is the disdain I had for my body all.this.time. I must say though, rocking our bodies is rare and that as women, hating our imperfect bodies is just part of the landscape.

But that, my loveys, is another blog.

take another look.