I'm about to do something very uncharacteristic and 1) go off on an epic rant and 2) divulge things about myself that up to this point I've tried to keep secret to most of the world. But I'm tired of hiding and I hope that maybe my experiences and struggles will help someone else, as other people who have shared their struggles have helped me. Just in case you were getting really concerned, I'm not about to confess to being a serial killer or that I'm about to run for office. You can now unclench your jaw and exhale.
I am slightly nervous because what goes on the internet can never be undone, and there will probably be consequences later. And who even knows how this will affect my dating life (then again, I'm pretty sure it couldn't be worse than what it is now -- as in non-existent). I guess that's what courage (or stupidity) amounts to. Sigh. Here I go ...
For most of my life I've been severely depressed. As in go to therapists and take medication depressed. As in think about suicide all the time depressed. Some of you know this; others, this may come as a surprise. Hello, my name is Elissa and I'm a closest depressive. And I'm finally okay with being open about it.
Well Elissa, you may be asking,
why are you depressed? You're an amazing person and funny and have accomplished so much. I don't understand.
Yep, kids, these kind of things don't make a lot of sense. Medical professionals will say there's a chemical imbalance. Others will say it's genetic. Some zealots might say I'm not being righteous enough (let's just nip this in the bud right now -- we all know I'm the most humble person you know). There really isn't one answer.
I won't go into my long annoying history of it all, but suffice to say, there has been one constant. That constant being that I hated myself. I hated that I wasn't enough. I wasn't pretty, smart, kind, spiritual, girlie, skinny, normal, sane, mathematical-minded, popular, forgiving, fill-in-the-blank ... enough. Which led me to believe I was a failure and undeserving of love or happiness.
But if you weren't feeling good enough, I was right there to disprove that. Here's the thing; I honestly believed other people were good, but I honestly believed I wasn't. Logical? By absolutely no means.
There's this voice inside my head (no, I'm not schizo, we all have this voice, mine is just extra voluminous and much harder to shut up) that would constantly tell me I'm not good enough. Think of villains from books/movies who hurt with their words; spouses that are emotionally abusive and leave unseen bruises and marks on the mind -- that's what the voice in my head does to me. I just came to the realization the other day that I have been a victim of abuse. The sad thing was, I was my own abuser.
This voice tries to put me down in any instance.
Got an B on that art project? Well you obviously didn't put enough of your heart and soul into it or you would have gotten an A. You didn't do your best at all.
Sometimes, it's outright ridiculous and I daresay creative the things this voice tells me.
You know, there are children in Africa that have never had clean drinking water. What makes you think you deserve to drink clean water, much less water?
You're right, I'd tell it.
I don't deserve to drink or eat today.
For hours, I'd lie in bed, staring vacantly at nothing while I held onto the thought that I was nothing. Thankfully, basic human instinct would usually take over and I'd end up eating and drinking.
Man alive, I still can't believe I'm posting all this. But I digress.
These are just a few examples. If you're ever feeling like there is too much happiness in your life, I'll let you read my journal to help bring you down a couple notches. Or twenty. Actually, false. I probably won't let you read my journal. I don't hate anyone that much.
One of the absolute favorite ways this voice puts me down, is to point out my weight. So much so that I tied my worth of a person to how much I weighed (which, interestingly enough, even when I did lose weight, I wasn't happier). I hated my body. Hated it.
It got to a point where all I'd picture is taking a sharp knife and cutting off my fat (I never did). Because maybe if I didn't have that fat people would love me (people already did love me). Or maybe boys would like me. Or I'd be a more acceptable person.
And this is the real reason of this whole post (I know, longest intro ever). Here I am, almost 28, and just now starting to realize my worth is not tied to my physical appearance. It has been a long and harsh road getting to this point. I am far from absolute love for myself, but I've made a lot of progress, and I want to share that with others. There has been too much shame in my life and I don't want it anymore.
A main reason I hated myself is because I was taught to hate myself.
Which brings me to the part where I rant. We've got to stop putting so much value on one's appearance. Is there an obesity epidemic? Sure is. Know what's a bigger epidemic that isn't talked about nearly as much? A vanity epidemic.
Everyone talks about how the magazines and Hollywood perpetuate unrealistic images of what we should be; and yet those magazines are still bought. We crave "beautiful" people. No, we're obsessed with it. Each year, they pick the world's "sexiest person," because one's ability to perform intercourse is obviously a main requirement to be successful.
Whatever happened to celebrating people who are ethical, or quietly charitable? What about people who have integrity or encourages others to be better? These virtues come in all different faces and body types.
I cringe every time a boy asks (and it's the very first question) about a new girl "is she hot?" Which some of you may say, well you're just jealous you're not hot. Okay, fine. I'm jealous. I admit it. But seriously, in the long run, if the only thing your wife has going for her is that she's hot, I doubt she's going to be there to wipe the drool from your wrinkly, saggy face when you're 84. But hey, maybe you'll be lucky and get a hot nurse to do it, as you lie alone and miserable in the assisted living home.
I remember a boy (okay, there have been plenty like this) who would go on and on about how above all he wanted a girl who was kind. A hot girl (who was not kind) walks into his life, and he forgets all about his priorities because (and I quote) "but she's so pretty!" I've come to terms that those boys deserve what they get, and I sure as hell don't want a man who can't keep his priorities straight.
Now I'm not saying hot people can't be nice. I'm also not saying you can't look for a hot companion, because I do believe that there needs to be a level of physical attraction for love to work. I'm also not saying I'm not guilty of oggly-eyeing fine male specimens. But we've got to get our priorities inline with what makes a person good and decent.
I want to share some of the reasons I believe I'm fat. One, I have this belief that boys only love thin girls, and because I believe I'm undeserving of having someone love me, if I stay fat then no one will love me. It's like my armor and protection from being vulnerable. And don't worry, I know this is a false belief and I'm working on changing it.
Two, as oxymoronic as it sounds, being fat is a way to be in control when you don't feel in control, as well as a sense of rebelling. I don't want to bring up specific people, but I'll just say that in a way I rebelled against people in my life who didn't want me to be fat (please don't think this was some conscious plan that I came up with one night).
Three, for me, I think being fat is a physical reminder of how much I hate myself (remember, I'm in the process of loving myself now).
Do you see that fat has many more layers (yep, I said layers) than just what someone chooses to eat?
I have been a victim of fat shaming, but I have also been a shamer. I'll admit, I've gotten grossed out seeing obese people (although I don't voice these horrendous thoughts). It's because we've been engrained to automatically judge a person by what they look like. It's what we've been taught, and so a lot of it isn't our fault. For this reason, I forgive others. Especially loved ones who didn't know how much it hurt when they would say certain things. I already have physical baggage, I don't also need to keep carrying around emotional baggage. And if I've shamed you in some way, I hope you're able to forgive me. But be mindful of the things you say about others, even when you're not in their presence.
One last point (maybe, we'll see). I believe
God created our bodies. That as spirits we were sent to earth to have a mortal experience. I also believe that Satan was cast out of heaven and denied a body. So does it come as too much of a jump to believe that Satan is the major force driving this skewed view of bodies? That he is rooting for us to hate ourselves and our bodies, or to put others down for their bodies? When we do this, we're really helping him to win.
I also believe that all can be healed through the atonement of Jesus Christ. That he and Heavenly Father love us for who we are and who we can become. Until I can find love for myself, I'm leaning on God's love for me.
So after sharing some of my deepest secrets, I ask a couple things of you. Try to be less judgmental of others. We're all going through our own battles and we all need each other. Try to see others as God sees them. We've all heard this before, but we need reminded of it every now and then.
There's still a ton more I could say. I have biases and beliefs that aren't perfect, but try to take the essence of what I'm saying, and try to change some of your own beliefs. Don't let the vanity epidemic have any more power over you.
Hello, my name is Elissa, and starting today, I'm loving myself for who I am.
