I come back to my anonymous little blog after a sabbatical of 3 odd years. I wasn’t too busy for it, but I think somewhere I lost my narrative. I got so caught up in the living of life with all its banal trappings, that I stopped wanting to introspect on paper.
Today, I return with a dual purpose and a promise to myself. I return because I need to, I need to write, to see if I can. Sounds strange and contradictory I am sure. But I have known all my life that I write well. But what I don’t know is do I have a voice? I have always found my prose to be forced and contrived, I struggle to find the right words still, I use four words when two will suffice. And in the interest of full disclosure, I sometimes even look up synonyms to find that perfect word. Oh, and I use hackneyed terms like “in the interest of full disclosure”. Irony, I do get you.
As usual, I digress. But the first purpose is my quest to find my own written voice. Or to find that it doesn’t exist. And the second one is to document my fitness journey from an inside out point of view. I know I can do this all offline, in my own little laptop-sized space. But I feel that putting it up on the World Wide Web will keep me honest. How weak I must be to need this crutch, I realise. But till I find the resolve within, I will keep it without. In my favourites and bookmarks where I can see it every day even when I am not looking.
Yes, I am horrendously and grotesquely fat now. In my eyes. Oh wait, I forgot to tell you about my promise to myself. It’s a simple and linear as – I will be regular with this journal. Mostly to chronicle my mental fitness journey, but we’ll see. Maybe, other musings will find their way when/if the dam bursts. As I was meanderingly saying, I am fat. The specifics are not important; I am fatter than I have ever been, even fatter than my fat girl childhood. And, has been affecting me in ways that I didn’t think were possible, till I drew a mental map between seemingly unconnected daily things and saw just one cause – the unhappiness over my weight. I want you to note that I said “unhappiness over my weight” and not “my weight” because here I want to interject with my disclaimer. This is not a fat-shaming post, dear constantly-outraged world. I think women of all sizes are beautiful. However, I know that I would not be. I cannot be happy with myself if I am not fit. Peg it down to a childhood ridden with obesity, an adolescence ridden with insecurities due to that or whatever. I cannot lie to myself about this. I kept the fat at bay for 11 years and now it’s back like never before.
This post grows long...and I am already impatient. I think I will end it here, as it neatly covers my decision and its roots. I will come back with my mixed metaphors and ever-changing thoughts, in a few days. Remind me to tell you about my mental maps and what I really mean by “mental fitness”.
Here, I say au revoir.
And here, I say, see you soon.