Accepting my body

I grew up kind of on the small size but I weighed as much as my older brother.  Instead of looking into why my older brother was small I was lectured from age nine about losing weight.  They didn’t compare me to other kids in my class.  I was one of the smallest….but the lectures about no one would like me if I was over weight.  Add to this that my mother used saving money on food as a way to get out of debt.  Logical up to the point of telling me I had to go hungry so my brothers could have more to eat.  If I tried to sneak food I was accused of taking food from someone else’s mouth.  I didn’t understand as a child how absurdly illogical the situation was for me.  Add to this craziness that I have food intolerance to foods she cooked with 3 or 4 times a week.  To punish me for complaining, I would get bread and water.  I love bread and water.  I could eat it without pain.  In a weird way she actually reinforced my complaining so I could get bread and water again.  So the twist came she would fix my favorite meals and desserts when I was on bread and water.  I have eating and body issues.  Big time.

On to teenage years, by age 15 I was passing out at least once or twice a month.  When I told, they said I was lying.  When I finally passed out right in front of them, I was hauled off to the doctor.  According to test, nothing was wrong with me.  Around and around I went add in PTSD and thyroid problems and you have a battle of the body set for life.  Cancer ( complete remission) and Brian the brain tumor that coexists with me rounds out my conclusion that my body and I are not friends.  I am trying to learn to treat it better.  I am eliminating soy out of my diet.  I am attempting a supplement regime that is many more pills that are supposed to help. Today I skipped singing We’re off to see the Wizard with grandsons on their way to school.  Maybe after all these years, me and my body are negotiating a peace treaty.  I am also accepting that stretching my limits takes time, money and effort.  I accept my body is messed up.  I accept doctors don’t know everything.  I accept that I am 100% control of what I eat now. I accept that I am learning more than I have ever known about my own health.  Acceptance does not mean I have to stay the way I was, it means that my challenges are my responsibility and I accept I work a little harder to help my body function.

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