FACEBOOK AND BODY IMAGE

Sorry for not having written in over a week. I was so busy with school and work that time flew. I hope that this kind of delay does not happen with great frequency.

Are any of you familiar with Facebook? I am not a member but many of my friends are and they keep me informed of others that that have reconnected with through the “friend” option on Facebook. Last week, a friend emailed me some photos she found of a guy that I knew a few years back. I hadn’t seen him in a while and was shocked at the change in his body. He was completely toned and muscular. When I dated Mike (not his actual name) his body would be characterized as being fit and thin. Now however, he had a six pack, big biceps and shoulders, and a very defined chest. It was a drastic difference in such a short period of time. Needless to say, I was immediately entranced by the photos and tried to use them as a way of punishing myself for how terrible my own body looked in comparison to his. The photos showed Mike with other guys who also had similar bodies. It was the typical stereotype image of the “Chelsea” gay gym body. My emotional gauge registered feelings of anger, jealousy, attraction, and curiosity. I could not help but be mesmerized by the images of these very good looking people. I was also taken by the sense of empowerment that they exuded, or at least I projected them to have. The stances depicted in the photos spoke loudly of their attractiveness, muscularity and masculinity. They defied the gender misnomers that have always been associated with gay men. There was no question that these guys were “men” and not women. I was angry at myself for being attracted to them, and I tried very hard not to imprint the images in my memory, for I knew how much I would be using them to motivate my own gym workout.

I realized quickly that Mike and his cohort were steroid users and that was the reason they attained such physical feats in a very short period of time. I was angry that I work so hard at the gym and yet can’t boast to have a body like Mike’s. Sure, if I used some kind of body enhancement, I guess that I too could be muscular in a short period of time, but I am too afraid of all the other damage those things do to the body. My trainer and I had a long talk about those pictures – I even printed them out so that I could show him and reconfirm my speculations about their using steroids. My trainer agreed, and helped me understand how much I did improve and that further improvements would eventually happen with patience, hard work and time. All things I knew, but I needed to hear from a professional and friend.

In the past, I would have really beaten myself – literally and figuratively – with the feelings that the photos stirred. In addition to emotions stated above, they also seemed to marginalize me and place me once again on the defensive. I felt excluded from the approved circle of “gayhood.” Similar to the feelings experienced as a kid when I was ostracized by schoolmates, the photos awakened emotions connected to isolation and being “less than.” I am trying very hard not to have those feelings remain in me for very long. I tried to move on after seeing those pictures, but it still took a few days to get things in perspective.

Stay well,
MBI

FOOD

I am noticing how angry I become with people who are really gluttonous. The holiday season always ushers in increased opportunities to indulge in eating. I have always been afraid of this time of year – one reason being the amount of sweet foods that are served at many holiday parties. That fear has slowly disappeared from me since I don’t indulge as much as used to. I have tapered so many of my “indulgent” habits with regard to food, but there are some that have remained for ritualistic purposes. I still need to have some kind of cake in the house so that I may treat myself after a difficult week. Although I don’t consume all of the cake, I need to have some part of it to still feel in touch with the old habit and with my old identity. There is some sense of relief at being able to eat a portion of the cake and throw the rest out. It is as if I have control and yet can still eat what I desire. Sometimes, I don’t feel like that I really want it, rather, I am behaving on program – it is all habit. It seems that many people work off of habit – especially those that over-eat. Of course habits are aligned with many emotional triggers.

Over-eating, making noise while eating, and overly enjoying food – are factors that trigger anger in me. I can’t seem to tolerate it all that much; often I have to leave the room when anyone is reacting to food that way. I almost feel that the person is directly confronting me with something. My father has a tendency to rub his hands together when he is enjoying a piece of meat. He will put down his fork and knife and will chew while also rubbing his hands together – as if enraptured by the taste. At that moment, while witnessing his behavior, I become incensed with anger and could seriously fantasize about hurting him. I usually just leave the table so that I can get a breather. Since food strikes both fear and pleasure (some) in me, it is difficult to discern middle spectrum of emotions that tie with it. There are certain foods that are reminiscent of my childhood and thus create a good connection, but these are few and far in between. At a recent Thanksgiving dinner, I could not sit at the table for the whole duration of time. I think doing so is wasteful. In addition, I don’t want to see people continuously eating and not have a regard for how much food they are eating.

I am angry at my own inability to relax around food and to indulge freely and calmly. I am jealous of others who eat with steadfast tendencies and lack of concern. I am making a lot of progress when it comes to food. There are more areas where I can finally acknowledge the feelings related to food. Before, and for such a long time, I was not even aware of the feelings attached. I have stopped for quite a few weeks the chewing and spitting behavior, but I have also noticed that my gym activity has increased a bit. Is this because I am trying to compensate for the food intake? Or are there reasons related to the cute guy I am interested in? It may very well be a confluence of forces. I hope to untangle it – a bit at a time.

Stay well, MBI.

AT THE GYM, THE LOCKER ROOM, AND DATING

I am one to obsess over food, calorie counting and exercise – although, it is getting better – less invasive in my every day life. I have also been known to obsess over a particular guy – not in the “fatal attraction” way, but rather in a manner that keeps me always in competition with him. The guy who I am attracted to at the gym is very much on my mind. I don’t know his personality at all – and thus am mostly fixed on his looks. He has a small thin but muscular body that I really am attracted to. He is also not ashamed of his body and is so quick to get undressed and walk around naked in the locker room. I so admire this quality since I am so the opposite. Today, I had finished working out before he even started. In fact, I thought he was not going to show up. He did – unfortunately, it was right in the middle of my taking off my sweat soaked shirts. I was embarrassed that he saw my body – loose skin and stretch marks. He must have judged it as not as good as his, and of course this made me feel so completely “less than.” The feelings of shame and disappointment kept me company on my long walk home. When I arrived at the apartment, I undressed and looked at myself in the mirror. I wanted to see what the guy saw in the locker room. I was hoping that there would be some miracle and that my body would have reflected more of my hard work. When looking at myself in the mirror, I wasn’t that displeased with the way I looked. I am not sure where the “satisfaction” came from. I still realized that my body was a far cry from the one I admired at the gym, but it was also not that bad. I am even scared to note this particular sentiment down. I immediately covered up my nakedness with clothes – since there have been days when staring at my body in the mirror quickly escalated to a criticizing session. Yet, I maintained some of the contentment. It is very strange and certainly something I want to explore more.

I am working out more these days – it is obsessively? I think some may characterize it as so but I am careful not to over do it. I may go to the gym with greater frequency but I try to minimize what is being done. I am using the gym as a way to counter my loneliness and lack of relationship. I am engaging with my body in a physical way and more so emotionally – due to my consistent therapy. I just can’t seem to engage with other men in a relationally romantic way. I am scared and also so mistrustful. Years ago, I would turn to food in order to fill the relational void. Now (and for many years), I turn to exercise and work, but with the knowledge that the void exists. I don’t want to be alone, yet, that is all I have known for so long. I have been eating cakes – just the parts I like – in some attempt to trigger the “feel good” mechanisms of long ago. It doesn’t work. The sweet foods do very little in relieving me of my loneliness.

Can anyone relate? I would love to know.
Take care, MBI

DATING, LOCKER ROOM

I am a bit sad because I saw this film of two young guys – teenagers - who went out on their first date together. Their excitement, confusion, beauty, and youth placed me in a nostalgic mood of my own adolescence that was so very different. I noticed that my feelings were tinged with sadness, jealousy, happiness and loss. I am so very happy that some teens are able to acknowledge their homosexual feelings and engage in adolescent exploration with other same sex individuals. Yet, I can’t help but feeling bad that I never experienced that myself. As gay rights increases, I also fear a loss of identity. I have come to identify so much with the abuse, discrimination, and ignorance that I am almost at a loss without it. However – I am willing to give it a try. I guess there is also this acknowledgement of not having anything to stand behind of for a sense of protection or excuse. My gay identity has been a cause of pain but also a source of comfort and a place where I can quickly turn for some excuse because of a behavioral inaction. I know that it is a pivotal part in my eating and body image concerns. I can only wonder, speculate and give some calculation to what body image will be like for the new generation of gay men and women that will be all the more immersed in the culture.

See those two young guys – on a date – all the more reminded me of my own lack of dates. The feelings of loss some quite abrasive and unbearable at times, but I am not sure what exactly I am mourning. There is the loss in the past and certainly that of the present, but am I truly sad, or am I sad because I feel as if I should be because of my current dating (zero) status? It may be a combination of both. I am sad that time is passing and I feel as if I am at a stand still with this part of my life. The thought of another, especially in a sexual sense, really closes me down and makes me go into a place of self-judgment with regard to my body. I have not undressed so long in front of another guy that I am not sure how I would handle it if given the opportunity. This very morning, exemplified this dilemma for me. I was in the locker room having just worked out. I was about to undress when a cute guy, who I had seen plenty of times, came and sat next to my locker. He was dressed and waiting for a friend to finish up. His closeness totally made me self-conscious of my body; I couldn’t get the nerve to take off my shirts to put on a dry one. I had to stay in my wet clothing. I have been in similar circumstances other times, and found the courage to change. However, this time he was just too close and perhaps I found him too attractive. Who knows??? It isn’t always easy to understand.

I must try to go on a date soon – just so that I can get back into some kind of physical mode. It is almost three years since I have been with someone. I feel so degraded in admitting that fact, but yet it is true. I have been working a lot on me, but being with another can also assist in that process. I must try not to ignore it.

Can anyone relate? I would love to know.
Stay well, MBI

UPDATE, EXERCISE and RECOVERY

Well, my relatives are here and I am very happy to report that they did not mention my hair thus far. They actually said that I looked thin and shouldn’t lose any more weight, but they hadn’t seen me for over 11 years, therefore, I could understand the weight comment (when they had seen me last I was around 15 to 20 lbs heavier). I am so incredibly grateful that they made no mention of my hair, but I am always very concerned when conversation steers toward appearance and aging. I feel that it will eventually turn to me. I am trying very much to not go into any analytical stances when it comes to my appearance but it remains a difficult feat.

I have lost two days of exercise this week because of my exhaustion with work, school and personal life. Two years ago, the absences would have sent me into a downward emotional tailspin. I would have only been able to quay the feelings by severely limiting my food intake for those days or I would have forced myself to exercise more the next time. Today, while I cannot answer how I will behave when I re-enter the gym tomorrow, I am able to sit with the gym absences more comfortably. Yes, I still am a bit anxious, there is an internal feeling of being less special, the fear of being overweight is a bit more resonant – but I am handling it. There is anxiety in handling it too because I have identified with that other part so very long. To take steps in a more moderate direction causes some internal upheaval. I will have to continue to exercise patience – this is a new side of me.

Someone asked me the other day if I thought I was recovered from my eating problems. I quickly said, “no.” I don’t believe that I stated this so quickly because of any identity issues, but rather, I believe that I will never fully be recovered. Yes, I am in a better place than I have been in a long time but I still have my bouts of body image, chewing and spitting and excessive exercise. They don’t happen all at once as they used to, but situations still trigger these behavioral patterns to emerge. It is a work in progress.

stay well, MBI

UPDATES

Another week has come and gone, and tomorrow marks the day that my aunt and cousin are due in from Italy. I am excited and nervous in seeing them after quite a few years. I am still quite anxious about whether they will give me any negative comments about my hair. There is a part of me that is moving into the zone of uncaring, but there still exists the other part that remains hyper vigilant. I really trying hard to move beyond this issue and just be who I am, but the old scripts that remain embedded in my mental circuitry consistently beg for attention.

I go in and out of body image satisfaction. There are days (most recently) when I have been feeling more content with my body. I’ve felt less depressed about different aspects of it. However, if I spend any exaggerated amount of time in front of the mirror (for me: an exaggeration is over 2 minutes), I start to really pick and destroy. There is a fine line that I must always try to balance. Sometimes its difficult the boundaries of the line.

I am feeling better about changing in the locker room, or rather; I am getting faster at just changing and not being stuck in the feelings. I can’t get myself to just rest with my shirt off. I can’ even look at another person when I am in that place. I feel totally self-conscious and judged. Yet, there is still so much merit in going through the exercise of doing it. It feels good afterward, but too much like medicine as I am going through the process.

My intake of food is consistent but still under what a man of my size should be eating. I realize when I under eat and also am more cognizant of the processes my thoughts follow when I am hungry and do not take provide my body with nourishment.

There is nothing happening on the dating front. I am sad about it, yet there are days of indifference too! I just miss being touched and fear that it will be so difficult to be comfortable with someone – physically – after such a long period of not being with anyone. The fear of having to confront those experiences and feelings keep me from moving on this aspect of my life.

Be well and in touch,
MBI

HAIR, AFFIRMATIONS, GYM, and DATING

I am still quite pensive about my hair and the over all look of my face. My hair concerns have always been present (you should know that by now – see prior entries), but it is the impending visit from my relatives that is making me more self-conscious. I do not want them to severely criticize my looks because of my hair loss. I am afraid that they will verbalize all that I am feeling (ugly, pathetic etc.). Their confirmation will be so painful to me. I am trying to use positive affirmations to counter-act all this angst but it is so difficult. The negative thoughts on appearance are integrated with a habitually set mode of negative operation. My affirmations need to work over-time to really make a difference. Yet, I will try.

My gym activity continues to be consistent. I am afraid with the coming winter that I will not want to go as often since it will be very cold and dark most mornings when I scheduled to attend. I will have to try and take care of myself by not going on those days but I know the guilt will be great.

I am working hard in cardio and in weightlifting. I have lessened the cardio a bit so that I can focus more energy on the weights. I feel that my body is improving, though it still is quite difficult for me to look at myself in the mirror. I have gone back to changing clothes in the locker room, but I am in a state of panic each time a guy passes by. I feel that every eye is on each ugly part, being judgmental and assessing superiority to me.

No dates on the horizon, and not that much of a care. That is the most troublesome part. I wish that I could care as much as I did in the past. There is a strong feeling of indifference.
Have a good Halloween. MBI

A DREAM, PICTURES, HAIR AND BODY IMAGE

In a dream I had two nights ago, I recall having a different face and being quite shocked with the features. There weren’t bad in any way, but just so different to my present facial construction. I was also taken with the fact that I had a great deal of hair on my head. The feelings I remember were anxiety, curiosity and fear. There was an understanding within the dream that my new identity had an underlying logic, yet I was trying desperately to recall the features that my “old” face had.

This dream definitely hits upon the well of emotions I have with body image. As I discussed in the last entry, the fear and anxiety stirred when the pictures were taken at the wedding I attended, was yet another reminder at just how deep these feelings are for me. This week, I was given a set of the pictures and I was afraid to look at them for a few days. I did not want to feel bad about myself, especially after the work I am doing with positive reflection and meditations. I eventually found the courage to take a peek, and I was disappointed at how bare my head looks. My lack of hair ruins the symmetry and framing of my face. I seem to look like a totally different person than the one I envision. The dream lives on – hence the new looking face.

I know – in the scope of the world’s problems, especially these days – this shouldn’t be a major issue. Yet, I am unable to make the pain subside. The thoughts of my hair and all that it relates to – aging, attraction, body image, relationships, and bullying – are consistently beating on my mind. I get momentary breaks during meditation, studying and when totally engrossed at work, but even with these activities the thoughts creep up intermittently.

I always wonder if the hair factor has a lot to do with my inability to get a date. Not so much from the perspective of people finding me ugly – although that thought is definitely a component in the formulation. But rather in the fact that my feeling unattractive dissuades sends out negative energy which in turn dissuades people from approaching me. It has been so long since I have dated anyone seriously that I feel as if it is never going to happen again. That is when the age factor turns up all over again. STOP AND THINK POSITIVELY!!!!

BODY IMAGE, PICTURES AND LONELINESS

I spent Friday evening at a wedding and though some of my thoughts were engaged with other people and on the bride and groom, I did catch myself also stuck in moments of daunting sadness. I was reminded many times over of my loneliness and I was also taken in by thoughts of poor body image. The theme of love and couplehood are bound to bring up some emotions but what compounded these feelings was the incessant string of couples surrounding me. They all the more reminded me of that which I lack – a significant other. I realize that relationships are not made up of only cherubs and roses but I am reminded of my emptiness when that which contributes to it is staring me in the face - in great positive quantity. There is something that tells me that I am not ready for a relationship but yet I still yearn for companionship and love. I don’t think it would be fair to involve myself with anyone under my present thoughts, but that does not keep me shielded from the vulnerable feelings that loneliness ushers in.

With regard to body image - there remains a thick veneer on my thoughts ofself. Although I do feel as if strides are being made in various areas of my life, I continue to dance with body image. There are steps taken back and forth but never decidedly and permanently forward. There were so many pictures taken Friday night, and with each snapshot I was consumed with thoughts about how I looked and especially how I my face would appear with less hair on my head. The wedding clearly demonstrated to me how important pictures are in capturing moments. I have avoided capturing moments for the last 7 years of my life – since my hair started thinning. I used to love pictures and taking them, but now I completely freeze. I can’t stand my image being captured in a manner that does not leave me content. The images are but reminders of what was and what will never be again. I know – it sounds utterly dramatic. Well, when it comes to body image, it is about drama. But isn’t an acted one. It is truly felt at my very core.

Stay well, MBI

THE VISIT

Although I am trying to heavily embrace positive thoughts so that my mind will be less apt to go toward the negative – especially with regard to body image, I am anxious about one main even that is approaching in November. One of my aunts from Italy is coming for a visit. I haven’t seen her in over ten years – even though I have traveled to Italy in these ten years I have steered clear of my hometown. I did not want to see anyone that would comment on my hair and the difference that lay between now and the last time they had seen me quite a few years ago. I was afraid to receive a look that would precede the words that would inevitably follow – “look at how much hair you’ve lost.” My Italian relatives are not known for their diplomatic statements. When I was overweight, they told me right away at to the face that I looked to fat. I was stunned at their abrasive candor and swore that I would never be at the receiving end again. The next trip I made to the town – I made sure that I was thinner and looked my best. They left me alone.

I am afraid that my aunt will not be very accepting of me. Not that she is a nasty woman, quite to the contrary. But, my mother’s family pays a lot of attention to looks and the resemblance we have for each other in the family. If you don’t look like their side of the family, you are often cast aside as being “less than.” I am trying very hard to be happy with who I am and with repeating as many positive statement so that I will be inoculated (somewhat) from any statements she may make. I am speaking about this anxiety with my therapist and we are trying to come up with strategies to cope with any remark that I may hear.

Other than this – things are the same. I am continuing to exercise 6 days a week. I also am continuing with the consumption/destruction of two cakes a week. I am not spitting out any of it; whatever food gets placed in my mouth, I make a conscious effort to swallow. It makes me feel less guilty.

As the cold weather starts to role our way again, I have to reenter the locker room again to change my clothes. This process had become tolerable enough before the summer months. Now, I have to re-train myself in feeling the same tolerance all over again. It is a constant lesson. – I will write more about this the next time.

Sorry for not writing sooner, but school and work are really keeping me busy.

Stay well, MBI

ASSESSING THE WEEK

My week has been so very busy. One of the thoughts giving me consolation centers on my favorite cake. By now you know the routine. I don’t eat the whole cake but rather extract the parts that I feel give me the most comfort. The shameful deal is that it all goes so quickly. I am so enthralled by the process of cutting out the parts I like and putting them in my mouth, that I don’t fully savor the pleasure of the experience. It leaves before it has any time to settle in me. I think the immediacy of my actions with the cake speaks to the caloric guilt I have in turning to sweets and also the emotional charge that drive the whole experience in the first place. I do feel guilt about eating the cake (regardless of the portion). After eating, I immediately think of the gym and what I will have to do to not feel the full effects of what I have just eaten.

The gym still continues to be a faithful companion. There are days that I am more receptive to hearing my body and there are days where I stubbornly ignore its calls for attention. I am getting better at not ignoring when I am too tired to go. However, these are interconnected with days driven by poor esteem, control and attractiveness issues.

I do feel better. Somehow, my introspection (through self analysis and therapy) and understanding of association between emotions and actions are making more sense. That comprehension is facilitating my ability to be aware, and to be more adept at listening to what is better for me (the self).

SOME THOUGHTS

I have been pretty busy these days. Sorry to not have written sooner.

I am continuing to eat a bit haphazardly. I am buying a few cakes a week, eating the parts I like and throwing out the rest. This may sound normal, but the act of eating the cake is totally embedded within abnormal behavior. The cake seems to be my only outlet for some sense of comfort. It gives me that feeling of cohesion and order, even though the very act of cutting up the uneaten parts reminds me of the internal chaos that sometimes surrounds me.

I am feeling down about my hair these days. I feel that my looks have diminished because of it and I also feel angry and remorseful for it no longer being a part of me. I had to attend a student meeting this week, and I noticed how self-conscious I was of my looks because my cranium is so bare. I am trying to move beyond this way of thinking by interjecting some positive aspects of myself – but it doesn’t work as quickly as I would hope. I will continue to analyze if this positive thinking can in fact take the place of the negative thought processes. I so want to move away from this line self-abuse.

Stay well, MBI

AT THE GYM - COMMENT

First – I am not writing as often these days because classes are keeping me quite busy. However, I will try to write at least once a week. I am contemplating whether to write a shorter amount but more frequently. I shall figure out what works best.

At the gym this morning, a guy (who I see at least once a week) commented on my looking thinner. He asked how much weight I had lost. I was a little surprised by his comment and stated that I didn’t think I had lost weight, may be I had just toned a little. His comment should have made me feel good, but it didn’t. I felt awkward, confused, scared and self-conscious. I took his innocent remark and turned it into an instrument to punish myself with. Throughout the workout I replayed his words. I felt as if I had something now to prove and hold on to. I wondered if he was going to notice if I was going to gain weight or look less toned. Would I have to live up to his expectations? Would I have to guard against other things I do at the gym or eat at home and outside? In contrast, his words also made me feel empowered and I tried to tell myself that empowerment was a good thing. It was not something that I needed to fear and fight against. Internalizing a good feeling was not going to alienate me from the man I wanted to be. I am always so frightened to be conceived of as a strong person, because I believe people will not like me if they view me as such. I need to think differently. I think another matter that surprised me was that this was a straight man telling me that I looked good. It felt strange because I would never make a comment to a straight man about his face/body unless I knew him really well. I would not want to be conceived as having an attraction to him. As a gay man, I am so very sensitive about who I look at and how the other person may judge my look if they were aware of it. The behavior still speaks to my childhood and adolescence when I had to conceal who I was and what I was thinking. It also says something of my continued internalized homophobia. I projected my own anxiety about male attractiveness to this guy and therefore interpreted his comment as strange (aside from the whole body issue stuff) and bordering on the flirtatious. Wow, all of these feelings from something that took only 10 seconds. Amazing!!!

Stay well, MBI

EATING WITH FAMILY

As I write this, I'm headed to a family dinner at my sister's place. Iadore my sister but I do not look forward to being with the family. Yes, I love them - but it is a love based more on instinct and theory rather than an actualized truth. I don’t know – perhaps there is a real love present and I don’t know how to recognize it. I still have trouble understanding what love feels like. I don’t even know when in the moment I love myself. How can I possibly understand when another loves me? Even when one of my family members does something kind for me, I am always trying to figure out why.

Apart from this confusion, family gatherings also cause me uneasiness because the main focal point is food. Food is an important element within my family. Certainly our being Italian has fortified a strong foundation for this to be the case, but my parents seem to have incorporated the quality very much in their lives. Food is the method by which my parents have learned to communicate. Many family activities center on food production and preparation. Before my parents immigrated to America, they farmed land in Italy. My father still maintains a sizable garden in one of Brooklyn’s Italian neighborhoods. They also continue with a lot of food traditions that have come down from one generation to the next. The family still continues to make its own wine, tomato sauce and its own marinated vegetables. All this is quite nice – I enjoy it. But, it also can be overwhelming because the food becomes the symbol for interaction and bonding. To clarify – food is not used to facilitate the communication rather it is used in place of it. As long as my parents provided me with food, they thought everything was going to be fine. Unfortunately, I required a lot more. Is it any wonder that I turn toward and away from food when I am in states of anxiety and confusion?

Being with my parents and a table full of food brings back a lot of anger. It reminds me of all the evenings when we would sit around the dinner table but nothing was ever being said. Food was supposedly doing the communicating for us. I also get very angry because some of my family members make chewing noises when they eat. This unnerves me so much that I have to leave the table. The chewing noise makes me understand the deep pleasure they are getting from the food and this aggravates me deeply. Perhaps I am jealous that they can enjoy it and I cant. In addition, it makes me feel that the enjoyment is a selfish one. They are satisfied with the food, while I am left alone with my problems and must find a way to resolve them myself. My parents provide food and nothing else.

Can anyone relate?

Stay well,
MBI

A CHANGE

On Saturday, one of my cousins told me that I looked a lot like my father.I did not take this comment as a compliment. My father is not a bad looking guy but he is bald and although I was wearing a hat at the time she made that comment, I still took it as a crack on my hair. This and the fact that I'm also dealing with a stye that is making the upper part of my face look swollen, has certainly contributed to making me feel ugly and low.

My dark mood somewhat was alleviated with the shaving of my goatee. I amnot sure why but the feelings are similar to cutting. The shaving of my goatee removed the anxiety of my looking like my father. It removed that angst I felt about my hair. I must explore this feeling more fully because I do believe that it is very much connected with body mutilation (in a mid form). This was not simply the act of removing hair from my face. I felt it too deep emotionally to be so. If I did not remove the hair, I was afraid of what the burden of carrying the sadness and anger would do to my day. I needed to find a relief, a window that would provide some emotional escape. This incident reminded me of when I used to hit myself (a topic not yet discussed). In the past, there were moments when negative feelings about my body were so overwhelming that Iwould beat my self. I would regret it afterward but the very act would alleviate some of the internalized emotional pressure. While the act of shaving my goatee was more calculated than the impetuousness highlighting past beating behavior, the reaction (except for the guilt) was the same.

GAY PORN and BODY IMAGE

I remember being filled with bother terror and excitement. I would finally get to see what gay . . .okay. . .bi-men do when engaging in sex. I knew there would be anal sex, but I had never seen it live or through the media. I’ll never forget the film, nor will I ever forget my reaction to seeing a guy anally penetrated. I thought it was weird, beautiful, painful, and intense. I felt a closeness to the two porn actors that I had not felt with the actors in any of the straight films I had seen. I felt they were letting me in on the secret that had both eluded and scared me for so long. Although the actors had engaged in the sex and my knowledge of it was confined to whatever was scripted in the cinematic fantasy, I felt that the experience was a shared one, nonetheless. Women were still a part of the film but they were surrounded by two or more men that were not afraid to touch each other. The presence of women, once again provided that safety I needed to continue the exploration without actually branding myself into any particular circle of interest.

The women remained a constant presence within the films until I was finally prepared to view a total gay porn. Taking that step seems quite harmless and easy but I assure you it was a very long, emotional and insightful one. That one move was symbolic of all the work, contemplation and thought I had placed in myself and in the therapeutic process. To finally let go of the woman porn actors meant that I was ready to give breath to my homo – sexuality; an acknowledgement that was to open up more doors of eventual and progressive exploration. Immersing myself within the fantasy created by an all male cast slowly enabled my mind to venture into male sexuality and I started to own some of that sex within me.

All was not fully positive, though. The male gay porn actors had phenomenal bodies – physiques that seemed even more muscular, lean and toned than the bodies of the heterosexual men I had seen in the straight porn. Their bodies intimidated me even more since these men were gay and I felt more a part of their community. My body did not measure up to theirs in so many ways, how was I then to be considered sexually appealing and attractive in the gay sphere. Were other gay men going to expect me to have a similar build? Media fantasy was slowly meshing into my vulnerable reality and the combination was deteriorating the esteem of having finally “come out”. Although I was attracted to some of the gay porn actors, I knew that they were well out of my league but there was an expectation that I must be like them in order to be priced as a high commodity within the gay community.

CHEWING AND SPITTING - RESURFACED

With the start of another academic year, I find myself full of nerves, excitement, anxiety and let's not forget, fear. My mind seems to race in so many directions that I get lost in a surreal existence - one that borders between the present and a projected gloomy future. I mention this because the feelings directly affect my body image and my intake of food. The mesh of emotions makes me turn to the sweets. As described in previous entries, I am eating more sweets and certainly chewing and spitting a lot more than I was doing a month ago. Although there is a load of guilt associated with practicing this behavior, I also see it as a familiar comfort I turn to in order to gain some sense of equilibrium. I have spoken to my therapist about this and we both agree that the behavior has prominently resurfaced during this time in my life because of the emotional pressures surging from my academic ponderings. I have so many misgivings about my pursuit of phd. Some are based in reality and follow a course that has conventional logic. The other apprehensions are steeped more in traditional fears of success, negative empowerment and a belief that I am pursuing something that holds little value - except for the aggrandizing of an esteem that should find worth only in self-love. My therapist is trying to make me understand that esteems can be more complex and that restricting my esteem to one source to fulfill a sense of wholeness can be quite impossible - most especially when measured against my background. I am really trying to keep this mind and I suppose I do when I give myself permission to eat some of the cakes while spitting the rest out.

This is also coming at a time when my gym has closed for a few days. I am able to exercise at the park but I miss the intensity that the gym's equipment provides. I am caught in a quandary of realizing that I need the rest from the gym but also feel the guilt of not exercising and being somewhat okay with that. These little advances bring a lot of emotional fury, which I try to tolerate as best I can.

PORN, SEXUALITY, & BODY IMAGE

My sexuality continued to be defined in two limited ways - from the glimpses seen through my evolving contact with porn and in everyday life – albeit obscured by thick myopic lens of denial.

My sexual identity was quite safely experienced in porn as long as the genre was “straight.” The female presence in the porn I selected were very important because it maintained a link to the heterosexual world and thereby verified my rightful position within in – even though my situation was quite marginalized.

There were no sexual conquests had in my teens and early adulthood (21 through 24). My body did experience many changes in adolescence, but the changes – good and bad – all occurred in a vacuum. Although my mental frame dictated the behavioral course taken most especially with food, the body and mind were not wholly connected. There were periods when connections were stronger, but still weak in comparative terms.

The porn stimulated my body to feel excitement in the safety of fantasy and under the control of the stop, play, pause, fast-forward and rewind buttons. Under the guise of porn, I was able to have my body freely express and feel some sexual excitement that could not be processed in reality – where there were far too many danger spots.

As I started to take in the male body images that were depicted in the porn, I realized how poor my body was in comparison. It was one of my first “awakenings” (written in another entry) to just how much damage I did to my body and this was accompanied by the acknowledgement that I was to never have one that I could be very proud of. The realization did very little to rise my esteem and acceptance levels. The years of exercise, food restriction and indulgence, and my vigilance in body valuation have all been testaments to my inability to fully accept my body as it stands.

I had better fortune with my sexuality. I was slowly but progressively accepting my interest in men. I couldn’t yet fully state that I was “gay” but I wasn’t as overwhelmed and frightened when my thoughts centered on male-to-male sex and couplehood. I was allowing my mind greater room to ponder sexual thoughts and to even project visions of myself in “gay”-like environments. This major shift in thought was symbolically captured in my selection of porn. During this period of time, I boldly made my first purchase of a different kind of porn - bisexual.

FOOD and DESTRUCTION

I have turned to sweets yet again. In the past two weeks, I've been buying on average two to three cakes, eating a part of them (usually a creamy filling) and throwing out the rest. I only eat very little of the cake. The part that I eat seems to momentarily fill the emptiness and sooth my anxiety about academics, work and my limited social existence. Once I have eaten the part that "soothes", I am so frightened to consume the rest that I end up destroying it. I usually cut it up with a knife or tear it apart - all in trying to annihilate it before it kills me with added calories and fat. How extremely wasteful!!! I have so much shame in admitting this behavior. It had been so long since I had performed this type of ritual. I was really proud of the longevity of the abstinence - especially since it is such a materially wasteful practice. Yet, here I am, once again doing it - the reason is obvious (as mentioned above). I just have to stop.

The path to recovery is filled with progressions and setbacks. The setbacks may even last a little longer than I am comfortable with, but I am well aware of why they linger. The feelings of anxiety, isolation, loneliness and fear also linger. I intake the sweets when these feelings truly strangle every inch of my breathing space. Granted, the sweets momentarily eclipse the intensity of these repeatedly processed emotions, but after a short respite, they once again start their ascent into each corner and fiber of my being. And unfortunately, in this go around, they are also accompanied by guilt and shame. These two feelings are the direct consequence of having participated in the chewing and spitting act, and in the destruction of food (no matter how bad or non-nutritious).

Yet, throughout experiencing this mental and behavioral mechanism, I am realizing more concretely that the old habit is no longer as powerful an arbiter of my emotions as it was in the past. I am able to hold more on my own. Perhaps that is why I am feeling so overwhelmed. Progress does come with a price.

Can anyone relate?

stay well, MBI

AGING

I was at the gym this morning, and although I try quite hard not to look at the other men present since that will initiate a trail of comparative notes on physical features (face, body, muscularity, hair etc.), I could not help but look at one guy in particular. He was really handsome and had a very nice body. He unfortunately came over to use the weights in the area where I was working out. I term it as "unfortunate" because I knew being in such close proximity to his external attractiveness was going to instigate my internal judge to initiate assessments. Strangely, although I compared our faces, hair, muscularity and overall attractiveness, the thought that insistently lingered was his youth. He was younger than me, but I don’t know by how much. I am painfully aware of the passing of time and its made all the more obvious to me when I notice striking young men in the gym. They seem to be empowered not only with physical beauty but also with youth.

Yes, I had that youth at one time too - and no, I am don't consider myself old, but my youth was never quite fulfilled as it seems to be in the young men I notice at the gym. They seem to be more connected with their bodies - as if they are in control of its destiny. They are doing what they can to feel good, be healthy, and look in shape. I endeavor to do those things too, but my body has already been through so much.

I recall the period in my early late teen and early twenties when I started to finally realize that my body and I (the mind) were "one." My "awakening" was like returning to the home I had abandoned at the start of war, expecting it to be in the same state as I had left it, but instead finding a great deal of disrepair and scarring incurred by years of serious attacks. I could not believe the sorry state of my body. Yes, I was thin, but the years of no exercise, binging, crazy diets and depression had taken its toll. I was never ever to see my body as lean as I had seen it when I was seven years old. It was gone - never to return. Seeing that young man at the gym made me yearn for that lost part of myself. It made me recall the feelings of hope that were quite familiar way back then. I'm angry at the unfairness of life and the way I must content myself with what I currently have. I feel jilted and cheated out of my body's full potential. Yet, my current "demons" are keeping me from fully embracing the body I have now (in what ever state it is in - toned, untoned, muscular, non-muscular etc). I don't want to repass the same issues in another 10 years and live in further regret.

stay well,

MBI

PORN & ME II

As I mentioned in my previous entry - porn was the tool I used to satisfy my sexual curiosity and to also keep me somewhat connected to my peers. As they were overtly exploring their sexuality by going out on dates and possibly having some sexual experiences, I maintained some semblance of "normal" adolescence by dappling in porn.

It is difficult to describe my body image during this period of time. I was between fourteen and sixteen years old. At fourteen - I was at my heaviest - almost 285 pounds. In school I was being called all sorts of gay related names in addition to be made fun of because of my weight. My body image must have been very poor but I was not aware of it at the time. I was so disconnected from my body. It seemed as if my mind and body were two separate entities. Therefore, I watched the porn during these early years with little connection with the body elements depicted in the films. Yes, I was looking at the actors' bodies but I could not internalize these images since my own body lay incomplete. Also, internalizing the male bodies would have also "implicated" me as to being gay. I could not face that. I could only bear acknowledging some interest in sexuality - I was unable to even absorb the fact that I was a sexual being. To do so would have brought on a multitude of thoughts that I could not handle exploring at the time.

At fifteen - there was some enlightenment as to what the massive amounts of food was doing to my body. I was scared of dying too young. I must have also allowed some elements of attraction for the same sex to be internalized if not even slightly acknowledged. I recall staring at guys a lot more but again not acknowledging their attractiveness. Instead, interpreting it as a sign of my growing competitiveness to be their physical equal (I didn't even think of being superior - if I did think it, I could not acknowledge it). The porn was still being watched but there was still no "body" connection to it. It was providing the stimulation – always under the protection of heterosexuality but nothing new.

My porn style remained the same until I was 24 years old. It was then that I finally developed enough courage to buy my first bisexual film. There were a lot of things going on in my life at that point. I was in therapy for 6 years and I had gained some insight into who I was. While I could not face the truth yet - I was taking steps toward that direction. I was allowing myself to contemplate male attractions. I could give myself the okay to have my eyes glance at male pin up posters. I was freeing myself to speak of sexuality more freely albeit still embedded within intellectual dicta. I was working and befriending people that were more accepting of me. I had lost a lot of weight and people usually had positive comments about my looks (and especially my beautiful hair). I was exercising but not at a compulsive level. I had finally started to internalize the male bodies depicted in the straight porn.

More to add in later entries.

Stay well, MBI

PORN and ME

I have mixed feelings about pornography. There are sexual images, movies, and magazines that really turn me on. The provocative poses of the actors, along with their beautifully toned (or untoned), and muscular bodies are an alluring attraction. Pornography was my first introduction into the sexual act. Until that time, I had not ever seen a vagina, not to mention intercourse. Looking at a picture of a vagina in one of the porn magazines both fascinated and scared me at the same time. I believe my fascination lay more in the fact that it was so different than what was drawn in anatomy books. My first porn movie was of heterosexuals. I was so turned on by the figures of the men. I can only say this in hindsight. As a 15 year old, I told myself that it was the women that were turning me on, and that the men were merely being used as vehicles for my sexual feelings toward the women. The denial I imposed for any ounce of attraction for the men in the porn movies was quite intense and for that matter - necessary. Any admission to attraction would have sent me into an abyss of further self-destruction. I could not handle it at that time. I was already dealing with all of the verbal abuse both at school and home, and was eating an incredible amount of food to calm the pangs.

Porn was the small window I used to glimpse at my own budding (in retard) sexuality. It gave me the opportunity, albeit - very short, to know that there was some kind of sexualness inside me. Of course, at the time, I did not acknowledge the sexuality - I was barely able to purchase the porn without going into some dissociate state. Watching the movies excited me, but I could not acknowledge the excitement or relate to the sexuality. To do so would have placed my ego in peril and it would have put me in the same specie as my abusers. I wanted to separate myself from all that was masculine. It was men that tormented me in their bullying antics, and it was meant that I deeply desired. I could not reconcile the two opposing forces.

While watching the porn, I stepped out of my "self" and detached enough to be stimulated but not internalize the stimulation with any acknowledgment of my sexuality. The dissociation was one that made my mind temporarily leave my body and enter that of one of the actors. At the time, I had convinced myself that I was the man directing the moves but it wasn’t so. I was the "other" - an actor that was alone with the men or group of men and always safely cradled in the "heterosexual" dynamic. I could not internalize any idea that my attraction laid for the men in the movie. It was too frightening.

Porn was to be the tool I used to take steps into grappling with my sexuality. But that would take years.

Stay well,

MBI

ADDITIONAL EXERCISE

As much as I desire a toned and muscular body and do exercise a great deal, I also realize that I am not doing all I can to achieve certain physical/athletic milestones. I can work on my abdominals a lot more and also spend additional time with free weights. I spend too much time with cardio equipment because of my fear of gaining weight. The cardio really tires me out and so I have less energy to burn on the free weights. I am so damned disciplined and yet I am hitting a wall in doing more. I often feel that my body is just too tired to complete any more exercise even if I break it down into different times of day. I also question if it is just the low energy or if its the realization that doing more is not a good thing – that it will once again place me in the category of obsession that I am working hard to break away from. Mental and emotional progress will inevitably lead to being less obsessive about my workout schedule. That is a frightening thought. Although, as I’ve mentioned, there are other exercise routines I can do, there is a limit to what I will endeavor to undertake in one day. I have improved from the past when I would squeeze one exercise routine after another all in one stretch of time.

MEDICATION - DEPRESSSION

I wrote the following entry last week – and I did not post it. Although, I’m feeling better and my outlook is not as grim, there is some realization that the feelings I described will eventually return. I have the number of a very good psycho-pharmacologist but am delaying calling him. Even though I realize that there is no harm in just consulting, I am still hesitating in making the appointment.

I am slowly falling into an abyss and I am desperately trying to cling to something - anything that will keep me elevated. The feeling of emptiness is really permeating different aspects of my life - professional, academic, familial and social. I don't have any interest in mingling with people on the weekend. I find it cumbersome and boring. I don't get excited about anything - even my research is heavy and mundane. I try desperately to find something joyful in what I do but find none. I even try to numb myself to the emptiness so that I might just "be", but that too does not work. I am always questioning my value, the value of my work and of my life. I feel useless and I sometimes don't believe in the merit of what I undertake with regard to male body image.

So encumbered was I with these thoughts and so generally ensnared in this emotional malaise that I barely took part in any activities. I had to force myself to go out to the park, simply to break the cycle of staying inside.

My cousin and I discussed medication again. And while it is froth with dangers (personal ones as indicated in prior entries) I believe it worth my attention. I was invited to two parties this weekend, and while the company and venue of each weren't the most tantalizing - I didn't go. The thought of facing people, having to engage in conversations (the annoying small talk), and having them look at me when I don't feel attractive made me cringe and so I postponed getting ready until it was actually too late. I started with every intention of going and then slowly I realized that I couldn’t do it. I don't want to isolate myself again and I don't want to constantly be the cause of exacerbating emotional drama. As much as medication is a frightening prospect I need to do explore it again. Perhaps I would be able to work on issues and my professional (and academic) stuff with greater clarity without constantly being sidetracked by these emotional peaks and valleys.

take care, MBI

AGING & BODY IMAGE

A friend showed me several old pictures yesterday. They were of various times we had spent together at restaurants, weddings, and at work events. The pictures spanned some eleven years. I find looking at old pictures of myself very uncomfortable and unnerving.Uncomfortable because I revisit images of a younger self that had noticeably more hair. And unnerving because the inevitability of passing time is made all the more clear no matter how hard one tries to deny it. I looked at the pictures quite a bit because I missed seeing the younger image of me with more hair. I paid no attention to my body because I knew that my body was in worse shape in the past than it is presently. It was just camouflaged in clothing that made my body appear thin and somewhat muscular. It was my face that I scrutinized above all things. I saw the face that appeared so very happily framed in so much hair. Although I always had little satisfaction with the state of my body (as I have written quite a bit in past entries), my face, with the exception of a scar that appears on my forehead – the result of a fall from the crib as a child, was an aspect that gave me some contentment. I used the hair to hide the scar and to also muster some esteem for the rest of my body. When my hair started to thin my head and certain parts of my face were thrown into the same "pitiable" hole that my body already occupied. I no longer had one feature - neither head nor body - that did not consume me with worry, disgust, grief or unhappiness at one time or another. The pictures bought back a time when I still had some consistent remanence of body satisfaction. In stating this I don't want to give the impression that my current body image is consistently poor. While it remains low, there are moments (although brief) where I am okay with my developing muscularity. However this body "satisfaction" is quite different the esteem I used to achieve with my face. While my developing muscularity gives me some pause - it is not always consistent. The muscularity is most visible after an upper body workout and can only be fully realized if I look at myself in the mirror. Otherwise, it is hidden from my view. If I don't workout the upper body it is not a noteworthy (at least to me) improvement. In addition, during the course of the day, when I catch reflections of myself in glass, or in a restroom mirror it isn't my camouflaged body that I initially see. Rather, it is my head and my exposed scalp that adds age and misery to my face.Those distinctions were not visible on my face in the pictures that my friend shared with me. No - it was entirely different. While most of my friends have said that my face has not changed (except for the hair), I take little solace. I feel that I could better deal with the encroachment of time (and wrinkles) if I had the hair to boost my esteem.

Aging scares me in so many ways. Not only because of the deep concerns with being single, lonely, sick and hopeless, but also because of the physical implications that usually follow the advancement of senior years. I can only imagine my body image at an older age if it is so poor in my thirties. I hope that continued therapeutic work will assist in building a better foundation of internal self-love so that I may base less value on my external appearance. My awareness about the aging process all the more exacerbates my frustration at not fully enjoying my body now. I have taken steps to be more comfortable with myself naked. I try to walk around my apartment with little clothes on so that I can develop a better relationship with my body. When I do this, I make every attempt to not to look in the mirror for a prolonged period of time (more than 30 seconds to a minute) because that would only increase the probability of my zooming in on a particular part and severely criticizing it. I have to proceed with caution.

Society in general has a lot of negative issues with aging. It does all it can to avoid, delay, hide and deny it. This manner of dealing is particularly acute in the gay male community. Attention is definitely given to aging but most of it is consumed in formulating ways that don’t allow one to face it with understanding, love and dignity. Aging needs to be confronted in a manner that would address all the issues that arise with it - socially, economically, physically, emotionally and psychologically.

Can anyone relate?

Stay well, MBI

BULLYING

The sight of a group of children/teens (8 through 15 years of age) still has the power to instantaneously send me into a panic. Granted, it only lasts for a few moments, but I am struck with how quickly my body registers the situation and reacts even after so many years. Although the very last of the bullying incidences happened close to 20 years ago, I am still transported to my childhood each time I see a group of young people. For a moment it is as if I am still that scared child who was bullied and hit. My behavioral reflex is to look away, run or just ignore. I am quick to remind myself that I am an adult and not the frightened little boy any more. It works and I move calmly on, but it nonetheless leaves its traces. Indeed, it has left its track very deeply embedded. Being called fag and other such derogatory names has certainly affected my body esteem. I was told over and over I was not a real boy or a man. How could I possibly expect to love my body when there was so much shame attached to it? I could not accept my own penis because it pointed to my being a boy. In addition, most of my peers (and some adults) were telling me I was not like a “regular” boy. I remember the embarrassment and sense of terror I had in reaching puberty, especially when I started to notice the differences in my body. My parents did nothing to ease my mind or answer any questions I had about what was going on. I went to the library and did all the reading I could about puberty and the changes that I should expect. Nevertheless, I was still scared shitless to see my body changing and starting to look more like a man’s body. I did what I could to deny the process. Anything that remotely symbolized a masculine behavior or product – I did not participate in or use. . But, slowly and progressively my body was betraying me. Although I was teased for being gay, I put on a great deal of weight and that in some ways abated the “fag” abuse, although they started to then tease me about my obesity. Regardless of my size, puberty was pushing forward and the intensity of my denial increased.

It is fascinating to me that I did not acknowledge my body during the whole of my adolescence. Even when I went on a massive diet, my body was separate from me. I know I wrote about this before, but I believe it is so important especially when placed in the context of the bullying incidences. When I was teased, the pain was so great (inside me), that I disengaged from it (subconsciously). In essence, I withdrew from myself and detached. My head and body were two separate beings. I did this as a coping mechanism – a way that would make me move forward without being totally destroyed. The weight gain did that in some way from the gay bashing and the “head/body dissociation” helped with the rest of what was going on.

I wonder how much of that “head/body” dis-connection is still going on?

Stay well,
MBI

EATING & EXERCISE

I’ve noticed that I am once again vigilantly calculating the calories and fat content of each of the foods I eat. I have practiced some form of food calculation for many years, but there are periods when the accounting becomes pronounced. This seems to be one of those times. I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I am feeling anxious about my professional and academic endeavors. I am caught in a tailspin of familiar issues. The sense of being confused only enhances my feeling of being out of control. To counter this – I am reigning in on the food details. By calculating the numbers and by compartmentalizing each quantity and quality of food being ingested, I feel a bit more sane and in power.

My meals so far have been:

Breakfast: A cup of oatmeal, banana, apple

Lunch: Salad (leafy greens, vegetables), chicken cutlet (baked with tomato sauce), piece of cheese, bread and some peanut butter

Snack: Apple, a few pretzels

Dinner: Salmon, carrots, string beans, hummus with dill.

You see – it isn’t a bad menu. I don’t eat poorly but I also don’t eat enough – especially given my exercise regiment and daily activities. The meals quite often leave me hungry and then I start craving in between meal snacks. I am really hooked on eating yogurt. My favorite is FAGE – 2% plain with honey. I can eat that every day and I do, just not today. I already finished 6 of the large sizes containers that I bought five days ago. I will not buy another amount for a couple of days. I worry that I’m doing some kind of damage with eating so much yogurt, but I really love it. And – most importantly – the ingredients and nutritional information seems to be quite good. However, I still consider it one of my vices.

Speaking of vices: Equal to the food, I am also exercising with greater vigor. I am addicted to one particular cardio machine and though it exhausts me to even complete 35 minutes, I am inclined to do 45. The workout leaves me completely soaked to the bone in sweat. I have to wipe down every bit of the machine and even the floor around me. There are moments, while exercising on it that I am totally oblivious to the environment around me. Then there are the times when I am so tired and haggard (but unwilling to stop the machine) that everything and everyone at the gym annoys the hell out of me. I feel powerful on the machine and am excited by the sweat pouring down my back, face, legs, arms etc. The immense profusion of the sweat all the more indicates how strongly I am working out and how much my body may be transforming into what I hope to attain. I feel a sense of control – yes, once again control is at point. My anger and frustration with all that is transpiring in my life – academic confusion, professional development/stagnation, emptiness, romance-less relationships etc all finding a voice through my exaggerated efforts on the cardio machine. I am able to exorcise the poison that the thought of them seems to cause in my body.

Since I am aware of this connection, I am also able to put on the brakes when I notice that my body is truly depleted of strength and energy. I did not got to the gym yesterday and totally enjoyed the rest without any sense of guilt. This would have been totally impossible feat a few years ago.

So you see – it remains quite complex. There are steps taken forward, backward and some steps not taken at all. Yet, I am cognizant of each movement and am more able to explore different scenarios, behaviors and actions than I ever had before.

Can anyone relate? I would really like to know.

Stay well, MBI

BODY COMPARING & THE GYM

It is very difficult to not compare myself to the many toned and muscular male bodies that I’m surrounded by at the gym. I realize that social comparison is a contributing factor to my body image issues. It isn’t enough for me to just compare, I then internalize all of the assessments and am left in a depressed mood by the outcome. In the past I have often tried to explain this mental process as a natural and healthy form of masculine competition. Research and understanding bought on by therapy have made me confront the fact that it is quite a bit more than just a competitive spirit. The drive and obsession is unforgiving and it often makes me feel rather confused, empty and alone. Before I actually had defined the body image problem as a “competitive” process, I held the comparison in great shame. I believed it was a “feminine” behavior to compare myself to others. Society indoctrinated me to believe that women were the only ones who were to really concern themselves with looking good. They naturally engaged in social comparisons to other women because it was part of their nature to do so. Therefore, my behaving in that way made me feel non-masculine. The fact that I was gay all the more epitomized this gender doubt and made me quite depressed and it further exacerbated the shame of gender and sexuality – skewing the two. I believe it was a saving factor to my ego to redefine social comparison as “healthy masculine competitiveness”.

Whatever I may call it or understand the comparison to be – I do realize that it does affect me. This morning I arrived at the gym at 6:30 am and was flanked on either side by two good-looking men - a bit unusual since the cardio room is often filled with more women. I’ve noticed that men are doing cardio with more intensity than in the past. They by no means reach the population levels of women, but I’ve nonetheless noticed the increase. The mirrors were of no help to me (when are they ever?) since they were reflecting other men across the room who also had nice bodies. I tried not to look at them. I set my gaze on myself as it was reflected in the mirror. But you know what that does – it only makes me focus on what is wrong with my body. I start chipping away – slowly. I go through the scared and stretched skin. I chip deeper and harder through the bit of muscular armory that I’ve worked so much to achieve. With tenacity, I eventually get to the raw core – and by then I am quite sullen but still pumping away on the cardio machine. Thank god I wear a head scarf at the gym. I couldn’t digest looking at my thinning hair while working out. It would only increase my feelings of inferiority. Although a saving accessory, the scarf also causes shame because it reminds me that I’m not fully revealing who I am. It is a symbol of my attempts to hide. It states that although there is progress being made, I am still carry body dissatisfaction and disgust. In addition, the scarf conjures up thoughts of people who have true disfigurements and yet valiantly carry through their day. On a realistic plain I know that that my issues are nothing in comparison to theirs but the psychological pangs are felt all the same.

Stay well, MBI

STRETCH MARKS - REVISITED

As I mentioned in a previous entry, I have a series of stretch marks that cover certain areas of my body. The ones on the undersides of my arms and the top of my shoulders are most annoying during the summer months because they are easily noticeable when I’m wearing short-sleeved shirts. It seems that I am more self-conscious of these particular stretch marks this summer than I was in the past. I’m not sure exactly why. It could be that I am feeling somewhat pleased that my arms are a bit more muscular. Naturally, a good feeling associated with my body is hard to handle, therefore I have to find something about the same area of my body (arms) to feel bad about. This behavior keeps me perpetually cycling in and out of states of body image depression. I have marked peaks of being “okay” with parts of my body and marked troughs of feeling miserable. The lighter feelings are still so alien to me that they feel raw and indigestible. I have to quickly return to conjuring feelings of anxiety and sadness so that I may better modulate/process the lighter feelings.

The stretch marks seem to be the chosen issue of choice to do the modulating. I try not to expose any part of the arm that will show the stretch marks but this feat is very difficult to achieve when wearing casual summer shirts – all have short sleeves. I rarely expose the shoulders with wearing one of the sleeve-less T-shirts. However, I have started wearing the sleeveless T’s at home but will put on another shirt if I happen to go out or if I receive any visitors. I am most vulnerable to have the underside of my arms exposed when I am strap hanging on the trains. I usually try to stand by the doors or hold on to a pole, but the “L” train is really crowded these days, so I am often stuck with have to hold on to one of the upper bars (“strap hangars”). During short-sleeveless summer months, crowded trains with only strap hangars free create a great deal anxiety. I cover the exposed underarm with my hand, while trying to look nonchalant and natural about the whole position. It seems to work, but it annoys me that I have become so bothered by this. I become so pre-occupied that the people next to me are looking at the stretch marks that I often cannot concentrate on the book I am trying to read. At the same time, I am also feeling very angry for being so affected by such worries. I really envy (and at the same time am intimidated by) those men that are able to wear their clothes and expose their bodies without any internal or external concerns.

I am riddled with guilt at being so stuck on these physical/superficial issues. I truly realize that there are much greater calamities in the world, and yet I can really be swayed with such little things that don’t seem to “little” when I am stuck in a body image depression.

Can anyone relate?

Stay well, MBI

HAIR - AGAIN

This has been a rough weekend. Even with all the meditation and self-reflection, I am often taken by feelings of depression, nostalgia, remorse, anger and sadness when thinking about my body. I’ve noticed that my hair has thinned a bit more in the middle area of my scalp. I can actually see hairless clear skin. My years of taking Propecia and using Rogaine are not helping in the way that I had hoped. This isn’t a new revelation – I have been witness to their non-effectiveness (perhaps they have slowed the hair loss process, but I have not seen any regrowth). I have contemplated hair transplants but am too scared of possible scarring and also of it not looking good. I also don’t care for the cost. Honestly, I am not turning to surgery because there is a hint of hope that I will “grow” to accept this change in my appearance and will love me for who I am. I am so desperate to find inner peace with all these body image demons that keep popping in and out of my daily existence.

I keep reading so many articles and books on body image and am taken with the fact that so many men suffer with body image issues in silence. Researchers keep stating that numbers are so difficult to accurately assess because men are usually ashamed of admitting their concerns with body related issues. Different stigmatizations often hinder the process of being honest with others and more importantly with themselves. I hope to be one of the men that change that by relating my issues.

I feel quite self-conscious of my looks – most especially during these circumstances when I have noticed another unpleasant aesthetic change in my appearance. I was to join some family and friends at a celebration this evening but have decided not to go. I know that most of my decision was based on how poorly I feel about my looks (notably my hair). I am quite ashamed to admit this publicly. I feel small, transparent, superficial and not very proud. However, the only way I can honestly grapple with these self-obsessed thoughts is to air them out and try to make some sense of them. I don’t believe I’m a selfish person, but relaying my thoughts and issues on the body really makes me feel as if I were self-involved. I make a lot of effort to concentrate on other matters in the world and in my immediate environment, but it becomes a battle between old habits and new fledgling ones. Even though the new are positive the old rooted ones usually are quicker to the draw.

With each two steps taken forward in self-understanding, there is another taken back. I even indulged in cookies this weekend, but ended up spitting most of it out. I stuffed my mouth with so many cookies that none could fit. I chewed and chewed, and there was strong part of me that wanted to swallow but I was too afraid of the calories. I did swallow of little of the churned mush and spit the rest out. What a waste!! I am ashamed by what I did, but not beaten. I will try to do better.

Stay well, MBI

DATING - INTERNET II

Using the Internet to browse through dating sites is an easy enough task. There are many dating/hooking up sites dedicated to connecting men and it isn’t difficult to understand how they operate. The ordeal is not in the operation/maneuvering but rather in the content. Attached to the brief and not so brief profiles of the varied members are the inevitable pictures. Most of the images are of a smiling man trying to look his most handsome, or of a man doing his best not to appear as if he has spent several long minutes trying to find just the right position that would seem natural. I have done the Internet dating thing for a long time and have gone through my own posing and re-posing (much to my cousin’s annoyance – she is the one I usually get to take the pictures). I can certainly relate to these images and understand the need to give several portrait shots.

The pictures that give me the most trouble are of the perspective connection/date in his undershorts, or shirtless, or on a beach with small bathing trunks, or of him flexing his biceps and triceps in a bathroom mirror, or of him lying on a bed – bare-chested. Most of the men that pose in these positions have an athletic, toned and muscular build. They look good in the pictures and they know it. That is why they are advertising it in such a public forum. It’s not the partial nudity of the content that bothers me, but rather it is in what the content is saying about gay men and our community. So much value is being placed on how good the person looks that often profiles are note even read. The pictures are doing most of the communicating and they are loudly stating how important looks are to the gay male community.
Yes, we do live in a very visually oriented world and when encountering someone for the first time, especially in “dating” circumstances, looks are important. They are often the cornerstones for initial attraction. But, does the image have to be one of a half naked man to get someone’s attention? I often feel that gay men are objectifying their bodies in similar ways to women. The male body has slowly evolved to being a commodity. It is transformed into an advertising vessel devoid of sentiment, psychology and intelligence.

The emphasis on body attractiveness is also shouted within the site profiles. Members quite often write their height, weight, age, the muscularity of their chests and biceps and (depending on the type of site) their penis size. They will also specify the physical specification they are looking for in a male partner. In reading many of the profiles, I feel as if a lot of the men are living in a fantasy world of expectations. Many seek very attractive, muscular, toned, athletic, well-endowed (7 and more inches) men who are 5 to ten years younger then they are.

I try to avoid reading such profiles and also try to visit Internet sites that seem to be more seriously focused on creating long-term relationships. Yet, even those sites have their fair share of fitness and body focused profiles. They certainly don’t help my body image issues. Reading them often depresses me and makes me feel as if I were the “other”. Once again, I am kneading myself to fit into a specifically set identity and physical form. As time marches on, and I also face the inevitability of growing older, I am also trying to separate from sites that promote competitions based on attractiveness and sexuality.

Can anyone relate?

Stay well, MBI

DATING - INTERNET

I’ve been checking out on-line dating websites for quite a long time. I’ve found average success (defined as two or more dates with the same man) but unfortunately none of the dates led to a long-term relationship. I often think that my issues with body image and food keep me from forming really substantive relationships. The two issues are not so overt (at least I don’t believe they are) that dates are scared away but rather the issues seem to hinder my meeting the right guy. As I briefly described in past logs, my reflections and actions on food and body image state a great deal about my intra and inter-personal relationships. They are smaller composites of my relation to the external world as defined by family and general society.

The men I have attracted in the past have followed some basic patterns.

One - the man at first appears to be available only to find out after a few successful dates that he is not over a past lover. I’ve experienced this type of rejection several times and it has severely affected my ability to trust men. I’ve noticed that I evaluate and view my body with a similar distrust. I do not see my body form as consistent and steady. Rather, it is constantly in flux and appears as if it is constantly changing between “softness” and muscularity. I can’t seem to depend on it at all – rather similar to the men I’ve dated in the past.

Two - In a more audacious behavioral pattern, I tend to choose men who are quite thin. While I am attracted to thin (not so strange given my eating issues), the very fact that I choose thin lovers makes me feel all the more like a large overgrown whale. I become even more self-conscious about my appearance, which consequently causes too much tension and anxiety around the other person.

Three – I choose guys that are playful but the playfulness soon becomes an unpleasant revisit with past abusers. Flirtatious teasing can be pleasant but it seems that the guys I choose often take the light banter up a notch and start poking real fun at me. My own experience with being bullied as a child and teen makes it an all too familiar scenario. As an adult, I can tolerate it, but only for a short time (thankfully.) Then when I notice that it will not relent and the relationship is being defined by it, I quickly put a stop to the whole thing. This relational scheme is seen in the way that I use exercise. It taunts me with promises of being bigger and better. Also, my poor body image may be characterized as a long lamenting taunt. Each – exercise and body image, keeps me within the familiar frame set in childhood.

Can anyone relate?

More on internet dating soon.

Stay well, MBI

MEDICATION II

I haven’t written in these past few days. I have been really busy with work and have also been battling my depression. It is difficult to remain in a good mood when depressive thoughts make each task and endeavor more somber and less fluid. Luckily, I feel a bit better today and want to continue to write about medication. It is a subject that has been on my mind of late since I have been experiencing more depressive thoughts.

As I previously explained, the Zoloft did help with the anxiety that often accompanied each task that I would set out to accomplish. It took the edge off certain fears and I functioned a bit better. However, as I also mentioned, my fear of gaining weight because of the increased craving for sugars, slowly progressed into an obsession. I start to devise certain exercise regiments that would ensure that my weight would remain the same or decrease despite the enormous intake of sugar. I am aware that my definition of “enormous” may be quite different from what would normally be expected when using such a word. However, what is important to note is that I was eating a lot more sweets while on the Zoloft than I had since days during childhood and adolescence when I would be considered obese. The modifications made to my exercise routine did the trick because I started losing weight and was able to relax a bit about the sugar issue. Unfortunately, during the time I was taking the Zoloft, I also noticed that my hair was drastically starting to thin. I was on the medication during my early to mid twenties, and that is the time that genetic factors will often awaken and play a major role in hairloss. While I accepted the part played by genetics, I also observed some culpability in the Zoloft. I knew that some SSRIs were linked to hairloss and I convinced myself that Zoloft had done its part to expedite what genetics would have done in a slower speed. The hairloss was the impetus that made me determined to have my medication changed. Mind you, I saw no problem with the obsessive compulsion to exercise.

My next and last medication was Effexor. This was by far the worst for me. I know several people taking Effexor and they have had good experiences using it. I did not. I was only on Effexor for 8 months, and so I can’t address if it stopped the medication-induced hairloss (my hairloss continued – most probably due to genetics). However, I can state that it stopped my craving for sugars and it quelled my obsession with exercise. UNFORTUNATELY – it also made me put on a great deal of weight. In the 8 months that I was on it, I gained close to 20 pounds. At first, I did not notice it. Effexor, more than Zoloft numbed my mind from focusing on the body and food issues. My clothes felt tighter, but I was not developing a large stomach (as when I was obese). I did notice that I was getting bigger, but it was all over. I distinctly recall when one of my cousins told me that I started to look like a “refrigerator.” No – I wasn’t growing two doors and a thermostat, but my frame was getting bigger and square-like. I remember looking in the gym’s mirror and trying to really take in the reflection staring back at me. I was appalled at the change. Needless to say, from that moment forward my eyes could only do one thing – focus on my body from head to foot. Despite the medication, I was shocked into bitter reality and faced the truth of what the medication was doing to my body.

More to come.

Can anyone relate? I would love to know.

Stay well, MBI

MEDICATION

Why is it that I am feeling depressed?? Could it be that the summer slowdown - the fact that many professional and academic activities have decreased thus enabling me to stay for longer periods of time with myself and without activity has caused this?? I am constantly thinking about life - I have never shied away from such thoughts but yet this feels different. I feel lost - as if with little purpose. The only thing that gives me any source of comfort or grounding is my exercise routine. I look forward to it as if it were oxygen for life sustenance. While I wouldn’t necessarily classify these current feelings as a deep depression - it is a depression nonetheless.

I am thinking about medication. I always wonder if I am doing myself more of a disservice not being on it or am I in fact doing some good. I totally understand and have completely reviewed the merits of anti-depressants and other medications that assist a multitude of mental/emotional disorders and dysfunctions. I have witnessed how useful and beneficial they can be in restoring hope and life (always in conjunction with monitored therapy). However, my own experience with medications has me quite ambivalent about taking them now. I was on the SSRI - Zoloft for over three years - some 9 years ago and while it did calm my anxiety and depressive episodes - it also enormously effected my eating. Six months into taking Zoloft (at the prescribed amount of 200 mg) I started to crave a great deal of sweets. I could not stop eating cakes and candy - it seemed as if Zoloft had re-awakened the voracious sweet tooth of my childhood and early adolescence. I recall one instance when my craving was so strong that I even went into the outside trash container to retrieve the remainder of a chocolate cake that my sister had thrown out. I didn't have the patience to wait until I got inside so I ate it on the front stoop. In that instance, I saw myself as if outside the body – from the perspective of an external observer - and I could not believe my eyes. To me, it was like watching an addict who needed his quick fix. I was frightened at the sight of it all.

Imagine how terrified I was about gaining weight because of all the sweets I was eating. Consequently, I dedicated more time to exercise. At the time I was taking the medication, my doctors hadn't a clue about my food phobia or my issues with exercise. I didn't even comprehend its totality and so I never mentioned it to them. BUT, they never asked and that is a common error that many doctors make when examining male patients.

More about Medications soon.

Can anyone relate? I would really like to know.

Stay well, MBI

DEPRESSION - AND OLD HABITS

I am quite depressed this evening and the biggest surprise is that the day did not start with such an air of melancholy.

My therapy session (after a two week absence) unleashed a great deal of anger that I was holding in but quite clearly was aware of during the absence. I feel out of sync, uncooperative with nature, and totally frustrated with my chosen lot. I am questioning my professional life, my interests, passions, and I am sorely remembering all the depressions and self-defeating monologues of the past (and sometimes present). I didn’t feel at all like eating dinner this evening. I wanted so badly to skip it and stay without putting any food in my stomach. I had to fight very hard to eat something (nutritious) knowing full well that I needed to put in some food so that I may better combat my depressed mood. Experience has taught me that depression takes a stronger grip when a stomach is empty and a constitution is weak. I don’t want to go there again, but it is so difficult to abandon the “friendly” habits of the past. I ended up eating a mixed vegetable salad with tuna fish but it left me yearning for something more. I ate some of my favorite yogurt hoping it would put things right, but that too did not hit the spot. The empty feeling continues to pervade my entire being. It feels as if it’s seeped through my pours and permeated my apartment. Although a feeling, the “emptiness” manifests as if whole and personified. I feel its presence in each room I move through, and it accompanies me through each activity I foolishly try to engage in. I am frightened that this dark feeling will bring me even lower into the abyss that I have known so well in the past. I am desperately trying to remain in control and not have it drag me down further. This too becomes a battle of wills between an “old habit” and a thought process that is more hopeful and functional. I pray the latter wins. My therapist has reminded me that I have gone through this before and I have recently been quite formidable in remaining even spirited even in difficult moments.

Amidst all of this I am thinking of my exercise session tomorrow. I need to be vigilant in not over doing it on the cardio machines. It is so easy to lose myself in the consistency of the machine’s pulse. Each stair climbed or mile completed feels as if I am unburdening the heaviness inside my chest. It livens the deadening that the emptiness envelopes around me and I am able to acknowledge the fast beating of my heart as a sign that I am still present and working instead of just habitually reacting. However, I am also quite painfully aware that the exercise too is a habitual reaction to the depressed feelings. That is why I must be cautious in not behaving as I normally do. I don’t want to over tax my body to the point of exhaustion. There have been times in the past when I ran so much that I could not run again the next day; leaving me crippled physically and emotionally.


Stay well,

MBI

EXERCISE ROUTINE - A CHANGE

I’ve noticed that my workout routines have increased in intensity. I am doing more cardio – at least 30 minutes more than usual – and its intensity it quite high. I have also been working out with weights with more vigor than before. What has caused the level to rise? The answer may not rest solely in one area – there may be quite a few precipitous factors, but as of yet I am not exactly sure what they may all be.

Possible explanations:

The summer months of hot and humid weather do make people expose their bodies more. I am aware that I have been looking at men’s bodies and noticing their thinness and muscularity. There is nothing new in this action (come summer, winter, fall and spring). However, in the summer months there is more exposed and that leaves more to analyze and compare.

I am also quite aware that I have been feeling more intensely empty. I can’t easily quiet, deny, lose, or distract the feeling as I did in the past. It is pervasive and must be dealt with at certain instances. However, exercise is one of the respites still left me to take refuge in. Although the feeling of internal loss is still with me during the exercise routine, it is momentarily incapacitated or at least bought to a size I can handle. I am able to find some sort of distraction in the different objectives of the exercise program. The true reward comes after the workout when I am flooded with the endorphins. There is a momentary lightness that makes me remember exactly what it is to feel good and strong. Some would ask why I am not on some kind of medication to help me feel better. Good question - I shall address that in the future.

I am attracted to a couple of guys, and the intensity of the workout may be my way of exorcising the attraction out of my system. I don’t have any inclination of asking the guys out (some of whom many not be gay) and therefore don’t know what to do with the feelings they stir inside. For the past 8 months I haven’t gone on one single date. Is this intentional? Not necessarily, but I’ve been sick of the dating scene for a bit of time and wanted a reason to take a break. If someone really special came along, I would hopefully jump on the opportunity (and him – for that matter), but otherwise I’m somehow remaining neutral (yet with feelings??). This “inaction” on my part is confusing, stirring anger (at lost time), and inciting frustration. In addition to finding some kind of explanation for it through my work in therapy, I am also trying to deal with it by acknowledging its presence. Sometimes though, the feelings are so intense that the only way I can handle it is by expelling some of emotions through exercise. You see – we’ve come back to the “chewing and spitting” again. It is all connected.

Can anyone relate? I would love to hear from you.

Stay well, MBI

SEX II

I would consider myself sexual, though I do not often engage in sex. I don’t often pursue sexual relationships – rarely have. There are many reasons for this and they too seem to stem from my personal experiences growing up. I have often wondered how sexual I would have been had I experienced something radically different from the past I have come to own. It always seems as if I am losing out on a host of sexual experiences because my many issues regarding self and body hinder my ability to be totally free.

When engaged in sexual activity, while quite aggressive, I am always cognizant of the other person present, and have always allowed them to control the situation. This is not because of a lack of energy or will on my past, but more for a need to reign in the issues that consistently block my ability to fully enjoy the moment. By allowing the other person to be the “aggressor” I don’t have to struggle with the thoughts that are besieging my brain; thoughts centered on my manliness, strength, body, power, and sexuality. I silence the bombardment of thoughts by numbing my self and my needs. Yes, there were times when I was the initiator and “controlled” the situation, but I always did so in the knowledge that I was acting outside of my perceived grain of existence. It was never something that was natural. When it did occur on instinct, I found the opportunity to berate myself for being so aggressive and powerful.

How could I be a strong sexual man, when a part of me wanted to be thin and slight compared to overweight men. Yet, I also wanted to be big and muscular to compete with the Adonis’ of the gay community. Since there are not simple answers or solutions, confusion is often the likely outcome.

My body issues often make me feel as if I am not physically worthy to be with a “good looking” man. When I am dating a guy who I believe to be physically attractive, I am quite stilled by thoughts of his judgments about my own looks. In the past, I dated men who would like to stay in bed and caress and touch me. Yes, the idea is a nice one, but can you imagine what that did for someone with my issues?? I did not want to express the thoughts that were racing through my mind as they were running their hands probingly over different parts of my body. I could not scream out “STOP IT” when they insisted on kissing me from head to toe – but damn how I wanted to. Imagine, my comfort when dating a guy who liked to hold (or feel) my crotch in his hands just for the hell of it, even when we were not engaged in sexual play. I could imagine expressing to any of them the level of my discomfort or revulsion at their seemingly “loving” gestures. So, at times, when changing the subject or the focus of the caress, did not work, I would endure their investigative touches. They honestly thought that caresses and rubbing were gestures of care and love. In an issue-less world I would have probably thought the same, but unfortunately the issues are present and so was the immense displeasure at being touched so finely and probingly.

Can anyone relate? I would really like to know.

Stay well, MBI

DEPRESSION AND RELATIONSHIPS

I am feeling a bit depressed today. The summer months are great and I love the warm weather but I also seem to have more time on my hands because work starts to slow down and my school stuff is lessened. Thus, the summer gives me more time to concentrate on not being in a romantic relationship. Not that I necessarily want a relationship at this time, but the emptiness I feel often compels me to believe that a relationship would help to fill in the void. “Not always the case” – my therapist would reply.

Why am I writing about relationships in a blog that is devoted to male body image and eating issues? Simply because I feel that relationships are the cornerstone to our understanding of self. From our infancy we have constantly been in a direct relationship with objects, people and the environment. I feel that my relationship with food and self is a direct reflection of the way I have related to people and objects in my past (and in my present). Now, does that mean that I consciously created such dynamics? No – certainly not. My history and environmental circumstances have impacted, constructed and molded my personality and relational development into what it is today (minus all the years of therapy I’ve had to deal with the dysfunction). I have difficulty in just letting go and having a romantic relationship. I’ve had relationships in the past, but they are a bit too distant at this point. I am at a place where I am questioning whether I even care if I have another relationship. The pondering, however, does not erase or diminish the emptiness I feel in the pit of my stomach.

I’ve experienced this void for a very long time – before I even knew what it was. You see – I constantly was trying to fill the emptiness with something – be it work, academics, FOOD, going out, MORE FOOD, theatre, opera, EXERCISE, NO FOOD, MORE EXERCISE, etc. It wasn’t until after many years of therapy that I realized that I was using all those things to cover up the gnawing void. Also, many of those tactics used in the past, no longer anesthetized me from the inevitable feeling of emptiness. Since those things don’t work anymore, I am left with just tolerating the feelings. Granted – I do turn to food and exercise as habit would dictate, but not within the same behavioral patterns as previously experienced. I tend to exercise with more moderation and I tend to pick more at food than binge. Small steps – but improvements! The summer slow down generally brings the emptiness to mind – even when I am outside enjoying the weather. I just have to tolerate it and know that it is there for a reason – it stems from my experiences in infancy in not getting the parental attention I needed, the verbal and physical bullying, and the internalized and externalized homophobia. I have to figure out how much of my craving for a relationship is yet another method I use to quench the emptiness and what part is the actual desire.

Can anyone relate? I would really like to know.

Stay well, MBI