Sometimes, if I turn very quickly and peek out of the corner of my eye: I catch a glimpse. Not a clear look. Right behind me. But always there.
I am always aware of It. Sometimes It seems to leave for awhile but other times it is so close that I can feel It’s rancid, sweaty breath on the back of my neck. It likes to keep me on edge. It likes hovering on the edges of my psyche. It is my constant companion. At night It sleeps under my bed: close enough to invade my thoughts in the dark of the night. It greets me every morning when I look in the mirror to brush my teeth.
If I concentrate very hard and stay very focused I can keep It away, for a time. But It is still there waiting for me to let down my guard. Fighting for control. Always fighting for control. When I hold the reins, it is good. I feel acceptable. When It takes them back- and it always takes them back– I feel much less than acceptable. Worthless. Empty. Broken. Ugly. Invisible and glaringly obvious all at the same time. I am angry. Disgusted. Ashamed. My inability to gain and keep control only seems to give permission for all the pain that comes along. Deserved. Earned. Consequential. Rightful.
We have history as far back as I can remember. Maybe even before that. Before I realized It was my mortal enemy It masqueraded as my loyal companion. My best friend. Always there in good times and bad. In celebration and mourning. Always accepting unconditionally.
Yet It has always stood between me and what I would wish for myself: Love. Love that is not born of blood or by bond but by passion. Once a veil. Then a wall. Now a bastion that has crushed all hope of ever breaking through.
Make no mistake: I own It. It is Mine. I don’t place blame on biology or circumstance. Though I may win a battle here and there I know that my Obesity will win the war.