I know what you’re thinking. You’re looking at that title thinking “uh oh, here she goes. This is going to be a self-congratulatory treatise on how strong she is inside. How years battling mental illness have turned her into a warrior woman, resolute in the face of her anxiety and depression, standing steadfast against her inner demons and self loathing, like Boudicca facing down the Romans. Only with better clothes. And less murder.”
Well strap in kids, cos you’re not on the ride you think you’re on.
Today was pretty crappy. It’s a very happy consequence of talking about my mental health more – and making an effort to be more candid about it – that I seem to be on much more of an even keel lately. I’m having fewer incidents, fewer episodes of self-loathing, fewer days when I just want to hide under a duvet, cry and keep very very quiet in case someone hears me and asks if I’m ok.
What’s perhaps not so happy – although probably also not that surprising – is that when I do have bad days now I notice them all the more. And bloody hell does it knock the wind out of you. One minute you’re rejoicing in the fact that your core strength has come on brilliantly while practicing your inversions at the gym (cough: wanker), the next you’re crying at your desk for no discernible reason, wondering if anyone would even notice if you weren’t there anyway.
And what’s happened in between? what’s the magic trigger? Today, yet again, it was my body. This very body that I’ve been so proud of recently. Maybe not aesthetically, but in strength. In power. In determination. It is doing truly incredible things. It’s taking everything I throw at it happily, and with both hands, accepting, adapting, and then asking “what next?!” I have been living in my body like never before. It’s been awesome.
And then today, I filmed myself doing my headstand drill. This time last year I couldn’t do a headstand without a wall. Now, not only can I go in and out with ease, I don’t need support, and I can do various yoga poses and leg raises while inverted. It’s a real mark of my progress in both my core strength and in my relationship with my body. I filmed it because it feels strong, and beautiful. And I wanted to see if that was how it looked.
It didn’t.
I look – to me – like a small elephant struggling to gain its balance on ice. My belly is huge and sticks out. My arse is enormous. And lumpy. My sport bra digs into the fat under my arms and down my sides. My hair – well, my hair just looks shit. (Must book that hair appt.) As I lean against the wall of my gym and watch that film back, I am unravelled. I am no longer proud of myself, no longer growing in control and grace. No longer warrior strong. I am fat and lumpy and ugly and pathetic. My body is repulsive.
But you see, the problem isn’t my body. My body is fine. It’s not perfect, of course. I’m no Victoria Secret Angel or instagram yoga guru. I was told this week I was a “lovely person with a good heart”, and we all know what THAT really means. But my body is getting stronger, getting smaller, and getting happier. My body is fine.
No, the problem is my demons. They dance across my vision, shrouding what’s actually there with what they want me to see. Shrouding success in shortfall. Shrouding getting stronger in grotesque. Shrouding a gorgeous compliment like “you’re a lovely person with a good heart” in “…which is nowhere near as important as being hot”.
None of it is true. My demons are liars. And in my calmer moments I know this. As I look at that film objectively, I can see, how strong my core has become. How muscled my thighs are. It’s even symbolic of how far I have come emotionally, how different I am now to the girl who could barely hold a headstand 12 months ago. The demons lie. They want me to find fault. They whisper into my insecurities, and taunt me with my fears.
Clearly, I haven’t yet learned how to control the demons, but at least I am starting to learn to recognise them. I need to remember that often, when what I see fills me with horror, I’m not seeing what’s really there. I’m not seeing the strength. The determination and commitment. I’m not seeing a ‘lovely person’ or a ‘good heart’. I’m not seeing the strength inside.
There will still be days when I can’t see all that, and that’s OK. But I can try to remember it’s there.
me and the moo 