Stretched Ligaments and Stretched Patience

It’s been a while. So, to cut a long story short, I was robbed of full typing ability due to overstretching a ligament in my left ring finger. I’ve been unable to partake in most physical activity (boo) and anything involving full use of my left hand. It’s been a crappy week in other words. I’m going to keep this post short and sweet.

You know how they say that you don’t miss something until it’s gone? I know this probably sounds really exaggerated, but that’s how I felt when I lost use of my left hand for that short period of time. Okay, so I’m not even left-handed, but it made me appreciate just how much I need my left hand to enable me to do things. In a similar way, it makes me realise how unappreciative I was of my body back when I was a healthy weight and size. It sounds weird, but just stick with me for a minute.

Once upon a time, I was the perfect weight for my age, height, and everything in between. I was an hourglass, size 10, which suited me well. I could wear the clothes I wanted to, and I was generally happy with how I looked. I remember, I used to make an effort to do at least half an hour on the treadmill, followed by about 20 minutes of biking. I have always been a fussy eater, so I guess my not-so-healthy food choices were remedied by my commitment to doing some form of physical activity a few times a week. So if we forward to when I was about 16, I started getting told that I was overweight (even though I wasn’t), and was told whole variety of other mean, untrue things. My misfortune was that I could only see truth in what people were saying, and suddenly I started to possess this weird kind of body dysmorphia when I looked into the mirror. Now when I looked into the mirror, I no longer saw that content girl. Instead, I saw something grotesque, and this led me into a downward spiral of comfort eating to remedy the disgust.

Don’t get me wrong, I take responsibility for harbouring a frankly silly relationship with food. One thing I will point out, however, is that I’m not a glutton, Yes, whilst it’s no secret that pizza and pasta are my two favourite foods, never did I before use food as a means of coping. It was a stupid mistake to make, but the more I look at it, the more I realised that I was pushed into this ridiculous way of thinking and viewing myself. I have decided now that I will use these feelings of annoyance and upset to my advantage in my fight to regain not only my body, but my confidence too.

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