I am tired, sad and fat. I know I should give myself a break, with two miscarriages in 6 months, but its just so sad to not even fit into a size 16 all of a sudden. I have no clothes to wear (well, that’s not true – I have pregnancy clothing). My thighs rub together when I walk and I think I will have trouble chafing when it finally (ever?) gets warm. I just can’t believe how bad my self-esteem is right now.
How bad is it?
As I was walking downtown today, feeling my dress being pushed against my body by the wind, my internal dialogue told me, “Just pretend you are still pregnant, and walk tall pretending, because you still look that way. If you do that, then people won’t look at you as fat, but as pregnant, even though it’s not true.” – lovely, eh?
I hate being in these dark places. It’s not an environment I am used to. But I know it is pointless to ignore the impulse – gotta get through it to get out to the other side, right?
The weekend approaches, and that is good news. Being back at work has been hard.