Lilith Saintcrow

Thank you, Readers. The outpouring of support after yesterday’s post continues to be phenomenal. I hadn’t thought that my “lifting of a digital finger” (thanks to all that suggested that! I laughed until I almost cried) would be so…well, that it would garner such a response. It was profoundly liberating.

I’m proud to report that I continued on a good trend the rest of the day, trying to think before each snack, am I really hungry or is something else going on here? A couple of times I decided I wasn’t hungry, just stressed to the max. I had a big glass of water, and did some deep breathing. A couple of times I decided I really was hungry, and did all the things one is supposed to do–pay attention to eating, chew thoroughly, and drink plenty of water.

Can you tell I’ve got food issues? For me, food is bound up in security, performance, pain management, and misery. I suppose any woman in the good ol’ US, viewing what the ad companies serve on their chipped cultured platters (thank you, Emer Martin), has a problem with body image. It’s hard not to, with the wash of “skinny is better” and the “eat! eat! Super-Size!” messages playing tug of war inside our bodies, cultural spaces, and minds.

For me, it was the “Clean your plate, there are starving kids in ______, we worked hard to get you this food!” married to a “Why are you so pudgy? You should take more gym classes. You’d be such a pretty girl if you lost some weight!”

Yeah. Crazymaking. Part of my Labor Day resolve was to stop those voices inside my head. If I require that my characters face their demons, the least I can do is try to peep at mine. (What a pity they’re not tall, dark, and cinnamon-scented. Hm.) Besides, who do I want running my life? Voices from a long time ago, or me right here and now?

I want to run my own life, dammit. So much of life is out of one’s control; I want the pieces I CAN control, and what I put in my mouth is a pretty significant piece. I feel good about this, and the trick is to continue the trend. A small success in this arena doesn’t mean one can relax–it just means next time it will be fractionally easier to do what one should.

I often wonder about the self-help section in bookstores. Seems to me it’s like the diet industry–if there was one magic thing that worked, the entire billion-dollar industry would tank overnight. There is no substitute for hard work, I guess.

On the other hand, someone came into the bookstore the other day looking for a book about survival after a particularly foul and widespread type of abuse that their therapist had recommended. They could barely stammer out the name of the book, clearly embarrassed and stressed. (Thank whatever synchronicity blesses the desperate, we had it.) I’m hoping that the fact that the world didn’t end and the employee helping them didn’t even blink helped.

We forget, so often, that we are often part of a group of sufferers. What I mean is, part of the system of abuse–whether it be child abuse, sexual abuse, domestic violence, or what-have-you–is the isolation of the victim. If a victim thinks s/he is alone, shame is a powerful reason to keep silent.

Once the victim finds out they’re not the only person in the world–that there are people who have suffered the same thing, who understand, who don’t judge because they’ve Been There–sometimes the burden gets a lot easier to carry, because the shame goes down. Just finding out that one isn’t alone is a tremendous relief. Abusers count on fear and shame to keep victims silent and isolated. Breaking the isolation can help break the silence–draw the poison from the wound, so to speak.

When an abuser tries to re-engage, or tries to “hush something up”, the victim can easily fall back into the well of killing silence. If the abuser succeeds in isolating, for the first time or while trying to re-engage, the victim very quickly loses all sorts of perspective. A community can help restore perspective. It can be something as simple as a friend saying, “Dude. Look. This is f!cked up, and you shouldn’t have to deal with it.”

When I think of “humanity”, that’s partly what I think of–the commonality, people sharing knowledge and helping each other. A community can be a repression, but it can also be a support. (Like the Sports Bra of Doom. Srsly, I promise a post on that in the near future. It’s bound to be hilarious.)

So. Thank you, all of you who commented or sent me supportive emails. I didn’t mean to make it sound like it was a huge earthshattering deal (notice how quickly I move to minimize my own discomfort? Sheesh.) but I am endlessly grateful for your support and perspective. You guys have made it easier for me to Do The Right Thing next time, and that’s one of the greatest gifts human beings can give each other.

So. For next time:

No related posts.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 9th, 2008 at 10:57 am and is filed under Deep Thoughts, Health, Rant Rant Rave, Real Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.