It's not always a triumph... sometimes it's just awful.

Last week I blogged about geeing up to go for a swim. 
My post was positive, proactive and enthusiastic. 
My swim was not.

Knowing that I was going to experience some negative feelings - (exposing my dercum's and lipedema affected body in public for the first time in many years can cause a few freak outs) I invited one of my closest friends and my darling sister in law who is also one of my closest friends, as support people. 
When I got there, I could feel the panic rising. The facility was awesome, warm therapy pool, ramp not stairs, but the anticipation of having to take my dress off and walk into the pool in my swimming costume... OMFG it was terrifying. 

No one around me made fun of me or made nasty comments - but my mind had a melt down and I felt so sad that at some point I had learned to hate my body. I just sobbed and backed away from the pool. 

My bestie followed me into the toilet, while I stood at the mirror and bawled my eyes out like a big baby. 

The logical part of my brain was screaming - it's a piece of fabric - weather you take your dress off or not - you're still fat underneath - why are you freaking out? Just get in the pool.

The emotional side of me was screaming - yes but I am deformed and grotesque, and my dress is the thin veil that conceals that from the greater world, from eyes that I did not invite to see me, eyes that don't know my back story, or how hard I have battled this. 

My sis in law, took the next support shift, and she walked me through the entrance to the pool, and helped me to get my dress off and put my glasses away for me. I was in. I was still sobbing. I was still feeling every self loathing feeling I have ever felt. 

I headed towards the therapy pool, still sobbing and feeling angry, so angry, all the feelings of self anger and punishment surfaced in me. I was horrified to realize so much of the pain and punishment that I have experienced over my life was self administered - not self instigated - but performed by myself. I was shocked to finally understand at some point someone had programmed my brain with their comments and directions to whip myself because of my "fatness" 

That is so sad and so sick. 

When I finished my pool exercises - I didnt feel triumphant, I didnt feel like a champion. I felt like a fat broken cry baby. I fell like a giant wet disgusting blubber chunk.

Then the next wave of discomfort set in. 

It clicked in my brain that now I have done this once, I have to continue to do it. 3 times a week.  Relive the self loathing 3 times a week.

Any pleasure I felt - physically, with the water massaging my body, and the free and near weightless movement while I was in the pool was blotted out by my emotional anguish. I had to put on a fake happy face for my son. 

How do I feel about my next swim in two days time? I am refusing to think about it. It hurts too much.