Liposuction of the Brain

For 12 months now I have been saving for liposuction … Yep, seriously I have! The theory behind that was after having five kids I had a justifiable right to have my stomach synthetically returned to the way it was naturally BC (before children). I believed wholeheartedly in those 365 days – give or take – that liposuction would change my life dramatically. So dramatically, in fact, that most things in my life would improve…. Like I was certain that that little cannula would suck up my negativity and make me a happier person;  inhale the frequently coarse ‘for-fuck’s-sake’ mantra I use so I’d be a nicer more patient mummy; and it would annihilate my low self esteem leaving instead an insane amount of confidence so I would be a hot and hornier-than-a-brass-band-at-band-camp wife for my husband. Ahhhh if only I could have an artificial rod inserted into slits of open skin while a doctor I don’t know intimately enough shoves it back and forth like a phallic symbol sucking up every little cell of fat that I, chocolate and hot chips created.  Sounds romantic huh! But (thankfully) what I’ve come to realise through the success and failure of my 365 day ‘Weigh Less Challenge’ is that the only thing wrong with me is the way that I speak to myself and about myself. Internally and externally.

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A few posts ago I started off by saying “I hate myself. I really, really do.” and at that very moment and many moments before and after that one it was really very true. So true that I just didn’t want to be here anymore. I wanted to pack up and move away by myself in a far away land where nobody could find me. A place I would never be able to return from. I believed I was not good enough to be here. Not as a wife, mother, daughter or friend. But life has a funny way to interrupt you and make you see sense of things no matter how bad and that interruption was through my Godparents. Now my Godfather is hardly an Al Capone type and my Godmother doesn’t sprinkle fairy dust everywhere but nevertheless we have a powerful connection of gangsta/fairy dust sorts. So when they pulled me up on this post of mine I was shocked to see that they were shocked. I’ve always assumed that people could see through the smiles, jokes and general conversations I had. I assumed they could hear the internal beatings I would give myself daily hourly every minute of every day – after all that was the only thing I could hear. Their expressions were a big reality hit for me. They weren’t offended or embarrassed by me but they were troubled that I felt so horribly about myself. That moment, that short conversation that I suspended as soon as I could, made me realise writing these honest, red-cape-retired posts can be upsetting and shocking to people in my life. It doesn’t make me want to stop writing – I am here to be honest. It doesn’t make me want to edit my thoughts and feelings either but instead it’s given me a little insight into the way the world sees me. Which is very different from how I see myself, they are two very VERY contradictory things. I knew then someone had to be wrong. And when I looked at myself honestly I became very aware that my world was spinning out of control and I was allowing it …. In fact, I was spinning that motherfucker myself!

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In this world (or mine at least) everyone bangs on about natural living yet every second person has had botox, implants, tummy tucks or lipo but for me there is no amount of liposuction, breast uplifting, nose reductions or skin treatments that will change me. An unnatural physical change is not a natural mental change. Using something synthetic is not going to help me feel the most natural things in the world – like happiness, self-love, internal beauty. I have been one of those people who have tried every diet, every pill, every potion, bought every book and fell for every scam. There is only one reason they don’t work for me and that is because my lack of self-love sabotages every effort. Let’s be honest – they all work! There is not, and never will be, a pill, potion or diet that I actually need to get me to where I want to go. The only liposuction I do need is one that will suck all the ‘poor me’ negative bullshit out of my brains way of thinking. So, while I wait for that magic sucking-the-negative-shit-out-of-the-brain machine to be invented I will find my own way and I’m taking the leap! A giant big foot leap into the world of my mind. A place where I need to heal myself, reprogram how I speak to me, set a goal for happiness not the perfect number, to look at where I’m at, glance at where I’m going and never look back at where I’ve been – unless it is to pat myself on the back and say “Hey Girl – you friggen rock! Look how far you’ve come!”. I will focus on where I am right now and not where everyone else is, it’s not a race I do not have to catch up. I will learn to love me the way my family and friends love me and learn to accept and embrace my body in all its feminine glory – jiggly belly, floppy titties and all! My journey starts today. A winding road, I’m sure, with mountains to climb, pitstops, beautiful scenery but all in all an enlightening journey to a happier destination.

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In a world where image seems to mean everything I choose not to follow. I choose to turn my back on society for all its unnatural desires and images and instead I choose love. I choose radiance. Inner to outer. Whose up for some of that bright sparkly shit?! Say HELL YEAH!

One love

DRK xxx

 

 

Three Wishes and a Hangry Person!

So I decided to give up food last week. Yep, a complete starvation fest in a bid to drastically lose 10kg in 24 hours! It’s really very clear now in hindsight that I should of booked in for a full body liposuction and rib removal surgery to succeed instead. But what I learnt about myself in that 24 hours is that I’m a really angry hungry person! I was biting heads off and spitting them out ASAP so no calories were consumed and that was just in the first hour of not eating! Yep! One whole hour was all I could manage nicely! I tried saying over and over again a little hypnotherapy saying “the more I drink the more I shrink” but I wonder now were they talking about vodka when they made that mantra up? Needless to say with all the extra vodka water I drank I spent all morning running back and forth to the loo so I could just pee it out again. It was heaps of fun, really it was, its so good to have a bladder the size of a flea! Whoever recommended 2 litres of water a day obviously didn’t have a bladder in my size!

By mid afternoon after all heads had been bitten off and spat out I sat down (on the loo just to be safe) and gave myself a decent talking to. Silly, silly girl – I said. Starving yourself for who? Why? And what for? – I bantered firmly. Crazily this is a talk I have with myself quite often. Honestly it’s like beating your head against a brick wall, reinforced with steel frames, concrete sheets and a 15inch impenetrable lead casing and it’s a simple philosophy – if you hit something hard it will hurt! Whether it’s in your mind or if it is physically in your way!

So, anyway I made it (yep great selfish and self-absorbed first world problem – when sweet innocent children are starving) til dinner then I ate a small bowl of lentil curry. Weighed myself the next morning and yep, I was up a kilo! It’s seriously like fucking torture! And worst of all I’m the torturer! It never seems to end and I cant remember this ever in my life being a fun exercise, ever!! I don’t generally talk about it and I definitely, for those who don’t know me, am NOT thin, slim, skinny or boney. I do not have a diagnosed eating disorder, I am not looking in my mirror and seeing a fat girl even though in reality I am all bones. I am seeing a chubby girl who in reality is a chubby girl. I am not obese but a little over average and my BMI says I’m overweight. So it’s likely if you passed me on the street that you would not look at me and think I have any problem with food – apart from enjoying it a bit too much.

It seems as everyone around me gets skinnier I am collecting their lost kilos and adding them to my stockpile – aka lard ass. I’ve “let myself go” as they say and I have no motivation to get a hold of myself again, jump back on the wagon or hear that “click” that people talk about when they have made drastic weight changes. Instead I’m hoping for miracles, like a liposuction surgeon falling out of the sky or a lamp that I can rub so a genie comes out and grants me three wishes. My first wish I would ask for an endless supply of wish-granting-genies before asking for contentment and body confidence. No, I wouldn’t wish for the perfect body but the confidence I need to just be friggin’ happy with what I’ve got! My final wish (from my first genie anyway) would be to clone myself whenever I desire so one of me can look after the kids, cook and clean and the other one of me could do whatever the hell they wanted! Then we could just morph back into one at night. Or I could probably just wish for a nanny, probably makes more sense and not quite as drastic as cloning. I’m not sure my hubbie would be able to handle two of me anyway! In fact I don’t think I could handle two of me!!

So if you had three wishes what would you wish for?

One love
DRK xxx