Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Loving one's body when it feels like no one else will.

It's an unsavory thing, being reminded that the body type one inhabits seems so universally loathed. Especially on a day like today, Love Your Body day. On a good day, I embrace every inch and every pound of myself, and on a bad day...well, like today, for example. On a bad day, every single shitty, stupid comment ever made about the way I look is in the forefront of my brain. Every single, shitty, stupid comment that can be made on the internet about how awful fat people are seems to be in my view. Everything that I feel I'm not -- beautiful, attractive, worthy of being loved back -- crashes on top of me. And it just gets harder to surface from beneath the ignorance, the hatred--the societal as well as the self-inflicted.

All I want to do today is completely retreat from the world. The world doesn't care for me, and I don't particularly care for it. Like the Beach Boys sing, "I just wasn't made for these times". Even the anger I have (I have plenty and that's why I'm single, according to an anonymous commenter) isn't sustaining me. All I've got is resignation with a heaping helping of apathy at present. So I'm open to suggestions: what helps you get up in the morning? What keeps you going? What do you hang onto to make anything worth it?


32-P said...

Dude. Jane. I love you and I've never even met you! Your singlehood is because men are turd-o-trons* and that is all. What gets me up in the mornings? Witty, acerbic writing. The prospect of running around at work screaming "The mist! The mist!" Jewish writers, like Saul Bellow. The weather (I know, it's idiotic, but here in the prairies it's wonderfully unpredictable). Internet friends. Internet weirdos. Internet memes. The chance that I might see a D-list celebrity whose flight got badly rerouted. Cinnamon Toast Crunch. And, of course, William Shatner.

*Not to be confused with Decepticons.

vesta44 said...

Everything 32-p said, plus the fact that I'm a bitch and no way in hell is anyone going to keep me hiding in my house hating myself just because I'll never be thin. They think I make their lives miserable because they have to look at my fat ass? Well, that's not the only way I'm going to make them miserable. I'm going to blog about size acceptance, I'm going to shout it from the rooftops, and I'm going to continue to complain to retailers who refuse to carry clothing that fits, who refuse to make their stores accessible to my fat ass, and who generally don't seem to get it that by alienating me, they lose the money I have to spend in their establishments.
One of my fat self-love philosophies is "don't tell me I can't do this just because I'm fat, because that's going to make me more determined to show you that I can do it, just to prove you wrong."

Andee J. said...

Interesting you should bring up the Beach Boys. Didn't Brian Wilson spend about 15 years of his life lying in bed snorting cocaine and binge eating, and refusing to take a shower because he thought worms were coming out of the shower head? And then, when he finally found a shrink who would help him get out of bed, that shrink tried to take over his life and his brain? Oh man. What that guy has been through is unbelievable.

Which is why I'm gonna recommend to you that you watch the "making of SMiLE" video (it's a 2-disk set). It tells the whole story about how Wilson started creating the SMiLE album in the 1960s, and how it went down the tubes when his mental health issues went kablooey on him and it sat in the can for decades, until he finally got a handle on his brain meats and resurrected the album in 2004.

It just gave me shivers, to see him performing the full live version of "Heroes and Villains" and wondering how the musical world would have reacted if they'd heard the full version of it back in 1966, instead of just the chopped-up, truncated version that came out in 1967. Brian looked almost as if he couldn't quite believe his own ears; it was a look I'd never seen on a musician's face before, like he was watching both himself and his masterpiece come back from the dead.

It reminded me of how important it was to have a project, something I really believed in bringing to its feet, that I could really throw myself into. That's what I'm working on now. No matter how much Chris loves me, if I'm not using all my talents I'm not going to feel right inside.

I'm sure there are a million things I could be reading that would just make me despair for all of humanity, including but certainly not limited to fat-baiting, but screw all of that, I'm being incredibly selective. And if I do read shit like that I'm going to use it to develop my talents, like I did the other day when I wrote about asstambourine Matt Taibbi. You've got real talent too, I've seen it. Use it!

Andee (Meowser)

Anonymous said...


I'm a card-carrying introvert, so YMMV on this, but on days like that, I give myself the gift of non-judgmentally allowing myself to stay home, turn off the world (the phone, the TV, the internet), read a book, and nap. I realize most people don't have this luxury, though (I work for myself).

I think sometimes we feel the need to force ourselves to be 'up' when really what we might need is some personal down time. If you're in the position of being able to take a mental health day, without buying into the 'I'm so lazy' thing, I find that often helps me.

Love, Hera

nuckingfutz said...

Personally, I think being an angry bitch is a good thing. Hell, at least people know what they're getting into with you, right?

And to paraphrase Metallica: FUCK 'EM ALL.

Anonymous said...

My dearest Janey Jane,

You're beautiful, you're talented, and despite the hard hearted bitch exterior you present to the world, you have one of the kindest hearts I've ever seen.

Your kindness, intelligence, and strength are amazing, and if men can't see that, then its their problem, not yours.

I adore you for who you are now, and I wish you could see what i see.