The Invisible Man
There is something deeply special about being able to lose oneself in a piece of well written prose, in an engrossing movie or in a well constructed play. The depth of the experience is intensified when the event occurs at one of the oldest playhouses in the country - the majestic Royal George theatre in Niagara-on-the-Lake. The architectural details speaks richly of a time long past. Of women in flowing gowns and men in suits and top hats. Ornate ceilings meet embossed walls and the seats are made of a rich red velvet with brass and wooden arm rests.
Today we took the whole family for an afternoon of escape , a few hours to lose ourselves in the personal tragedy that is The Invisible Man. This afternoon I discovered there is no hiding from me, from the obese me.
It would appear that in times gone by, people were much slimmer...the seats caught this historial fact well. They were narrow. Very narrow. I am a product of our times and this product could not fit into the aforementioned seats. So there I was, perched on the edge of my seat for the first act - painfully aware of my pinched nerve, bum going numb and knees locking with the effort of trying to look inconspicuous.
I know that my husband felt bad for me, he would reach out and rub my back periodically. At that time I was reminded again how emotionally challenged I am - I do not deal well with sympathy and I could feel the tears well in my eyes.
I left during the intermission, found a public toilet and cried. Cried like there was no tomorrow. I do not easily cry for myself but today I did. I know that I'm fat. I think the tears came more from the realization that now others, including my husband, "know" it too. The seat was just such a concrete measure of size. I was mortified. I have never felt more truly fat that I did at that moment.
But out of something so pathetic comes something positive. Instead of drowning my sorrow in a piece of the infamous Maple Farm Fudge from the flagship store just 20ft away I opted to go to the car and write. It wasn't food I was craving, it was the need to get this post out, to see the words, to see my pain as someone else reading this might see it.
Maybe this is what has been missing, the ability to get out the words and feelings. Maybe by not letting them out I was using food to push them away? I wonder if I have inadvertently uncovered something here? Is this the answer, at least in part, to my obesity? Do I need to let out my feelings and thoughts so I don't "need" food? Do I need to be willing to deal with consequences of that? Do I need to give myself permission to not be invisible?
Today we took the whole family for an afternoon of escape , a few hours to lose ourselves in the personal tragedy that is The Invisible Man. This afternoon I discovered there is no hiding from me, from the obese me.
It would appear that in times gone by, people were much slimmer...the seats caught this historial fact well. They were narrow. Very narrow. I am a product of our times and this product could not fit into the aforementioned seats. So there I was, perched on the edge of my seat for the first act - painfully aware of my pinched nerve, bum going numb and knees locking with the effort of trying to look inconspicuous.
I know that my husband felt bad for me, he would reach out and rub my back periodically. At that time I was reminded again how emotionally challenged I am - I do not deal well with sympathy and I could feel the tears well in my eyes.
I left during the intermission, found a public toilet and cried. Cried like there was no tomorrow. I do not easily cry for myself but today I did. I know that I'm fat. I think the tears came more from the realization that now others, including my husband, "know" it too. The seat was just such a concrete measure of size. I was mortified. I have never felt more truly fat that I did at that moment.
But out of something so pathetic comes something positive. Instead of drowning my sorrow in a piece of the infamous Maple Farm Fudge from the flagship store just 20ft away I opted to go to the car and write. It wasn't food I was craving, it was the need to get this post out, to see the words, to see my pain as someone else reading this might see it.
Maybe this is what has been missing, the ability to get out the words and feelings. Maybe by not letting them out I was using food to push them away? I wonder if I have inadvertently uncovered something here? Is this the answer, at least in part, to my obesity? Do I need to let out my feelings and thoughts so I don't "need" food? Do I need to be willing to deal with consequences of that? Do I need to give myself permission to not be invisible?
posted by Aussieabroad at
9:10 PM
1 Comments:
There is something that you'll soon find yourself saying that will get you through times like this, especially now: "This is one of the last times I'll have to do..." I find myself saying that all the time.
"This is the last time I'll have to feel uncomfortable riding on a plane."
"This is one of the last times I'll have to sit in an uncomfortable chair."
So on and so on.
The changes we go through won't be fast, but this is one of the things that can help you get through it.
You are about to go through a massive surgery and I say claim it. Claim this decision you've made. Claim the new life you will have. Claim your place in the world. Embrace it and find power in it.
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Anonymous, At
7:01 PM
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