His Body Chronicle

2009-08-24T07:07:00.001-07:00

I feel so guilty at the moment . . ., well, perhaps not guilty but just anxious. I haven’t gone to the gym today because I felt so tired. I was so tired yesterday and I went but felt annoyed throughout the workout. I was fatigued and wanted to get out of there. The increased humidity and heat (from the weather) have really been getting to me as of late. I have been sweating incredibly and have just felt knocked out. Since I have the day off from work, I wanted to really treat myself by not going to the gym and finally just staying in bed past 8 am. Now I am feeling a bit upset for not fighting my ‘tiredness”. However, at the same time, I realize that my body does need a rest and this day will prove to be beneficial – physically.

I have started to eat more proteins in hope of increasing my muscle tone. I also have increased the amount of weight training. I am still not ingesting as much protein as I should, but my eating issues interfere. I am trying my best to work past this – even if temporary.

2009-08-16T10:23:00.001-07:00

My body issues and my inability to fully embrace love and affection have kept me from forming meaningful relationships with gay men. I don’t even turn to them for sex – there is no one I turn to for it. I am feeling my aloneness today and yearn for companionship that is meaningful and loving, beyond that shared with good friends. I am 38 and feel as if so many years have been lost, consumed in this tired emotional state of panic and disease of mind. Will I ever just let go? So many wrong turns have been taken in the past, and while I try to forgive and express compassion for the self, there is a pull to also exact some kind of revenge. But there is no need, punishment has been given all to much already.

2009-08-15T18:33:00.001-07:00

I am trying to take the advice of several friends to eat more food, most especially protein. I have lost some weight in the last few weeks, and while the weight loss is not great – it certainly will not help in my quest wish to be and appear more muscular. My cousin’s boyfriend will be directing my weight training tomorrow and dieting plan. He is quite knowledgeable about body building (amateur level) and I want to at least get his perspective.

Things are going okay. I am busy with research and work but find it pleasing. I am trying to stay in the dating game by being active on the dating websites (match, yahoo personals etc.). I am not finding anyone truly interesting or interested in me, but it is better than remaining socially isolated.

I had the opportunity to attend a friend’s pool party this weekend, but there were all women, and I just don’t want to put up with them again. I love them, but I rather be alone than have to be reminded that most of my friends consist of women and not some men. Of course, I feel blessed to have friends, but it becomes lonely being the only man in the bunch.

I am trying to get more comfortable with my body by walking around the apartment in as little clothes as possible. It does help . . . until I catch a reflection of myself – then I become more critical. I need to let go of negative images of myself and appreciate the body that I presently have. There are times when I am okay with it – and somewhat comfortable, but it passes so quickly to another haphazard emotional moment.

speak to you soon, MBI

2009-08-03T19:38:00.001-07:00

Hair hair and more hair - I am thinking so much about it. I notice how self conscious I am about my facial appearance because of my hair issue. Of course this has been a theme but there are many peaks and troughs. I am currently in a trough moment. The hair issue becomes magnified with my meeting new people and those that I have not seen for long periods of time. I am so tired of being so self aware about my appearance. I feel unattractive and old. These feelings will get better but how long will the good feeling last? I may never feel totally comfortable.

I went to chelsea piers to take in some sun and nice scenery. Of course there were a ton of gay men without shirts on. They intimidate me so much and send me into a whirlwind of self doubt at my own attractiveness. I yearn to have more muscles and a better body. Yet - I know deep down that the answers dont lie there.

2009-07-28T20:26:00.000-07:00

So, I was talking to a group of gay males tonight and that conversation all the more made me realize how much my body issues are making me miss out on exploring my sexuality. I believe my body image really creates walls that keeps me apart from others. It must give out this vibe that I am unapproachable. Will the day come when I am okay enough with my body to actually embrace my sexuality or will it be too late? As the year continue to march forward I get so scared of truly observing how much I miss out. Granted there are aspects of my life that are going well but there is plenty that continues to warrant attention.

Sex should not be all encompassing however, i have not had any sexual relations in over three years. That is not normal - and it is directly related to my body image. I am ashamed to admit that and feeling overwhelmingly judged, but it is the truth and I can't deny it.

MBI

Here Again

2009-07-26T17:39:00.000-07:00

I have been out of touch so long – but you have not been out of my thoughts. I am glad to finally return. I have been so very busy with work and classes. Things are progressing nicely but I do wish that the days were a bit longer.

How am I doing? Okay – still my eating issues persist – but I try to do what I can to not make it totally control my life. I have not been chewing and spitting as much as I did earlier in the year. I am not certain if that is a good indication or if that mode of caloric control is rearing its head in another area. It may very well be demonstrated in the fact that I am exercising a bit more these days. I am going to the gym 6 to 7 days a week. It started out gradually enough – I was going to the gym for 4 to 5 days a week for some years. However, I started to attend more often due to my inability to cope with a lot of anger that was accumulating due to my horrific work and class schedules. To combat the anger and anxiety I turned to the gym more often.

My body is more muscular than in February but I still feel that I should be even more muscular for all the work I do. You can clearly note that muscularity and body image are still on my mind. Not so heavily but inevitably present just the same. I have stopped seeing my trainer. I was getting sick of the same workout and wanted something different but he couldn’t deliver. Also, I could not stand being told what to do by yet another person in my life. I was getting too much from professors and bosses. Something had to give. This was the time when I was extremely unhappy and angry and therefore I had to strike out. I was also giving it to my therapist – and I took a break from him too. I returned three weeks later – still angry but with a different perspective.

My body is shaping up (although my hair still poses its threats). Friends have told me that I am working out too much and should be more muscular than I am. They suggest that I try a different work and that I start taking protein drinks. I am hesitant – not about the workout change – although that has some anxiety, but most because of the protein drinks. I don’t want to harm my body with giving it excessive protein. I need to investigate a bit further before I do anything.

MBI

FINALLY

2009-02-15T09:04:00.000-08:00

I have not written in such a long time. I’ve been busy with classes and work. There is much to say but I am afraid that time is going to cut this communication short. I have been doing okay with the food stuff except that there are times when I forget to eat because of my crazy schedule. I have committed to eating more but that of course brings up feelings of guilt and worry about my weight. While the gym continues to play a part in my life, I do notice how conscious I have become of my food intake. I believe this is directly related to my schedule again. As there is a loss of control due to assignments and deadlines, I try to gain some bearing by controlling the eating. I am eating enough to go through the day, but sometimes it pains me to realize how little I do eat. There are days when lunch consists of a tiny salad and a piece of raisin bread. That is so very little for a grown man to eat. Granted I do have fruit an hour later, but still quite little. I grow angrier at this restriction or rather this habit of eating little. When I corporate a fair amount of snacks, I worry about weight, but regardless of the worry, I still eat it. Energy maintenance is essential to my getting through the day and weeks ahead. Therefore, even though worries of body image and weight still persist, I insist on progressing in a healthier way.

Every Friday I buy a couple of Entenmann’s cakes (more specifically – Cheese Buns). They are delicious and I love them. However, there is a ritual associated with this too. I do not eat the entire cake, in fact I only eat the cheese center of each bun. Great delight is taken in cutting the circular center out of each bun, removing all of the sugary glazing and then eating the sweet cheese. Again, I believe this action assists me in maintaining control and also in enjoying a contained amount of sweets. It does not provide the pleasure that cakes gave in the past, but there is enough reminiscence to gain some comfort.

Still nothing on the dating realm. I am at a loss and feel it strongly. I cant help but wonder if I will ever be with someone again? Time will tell.

UPDATES

2009-01-29T18:04:00.001-08:00

Terribly busy with school and work and finding very little time to engage I other activities. I have to remain really focused on eating well and exercising moderately. If I restrict or exercise too much (or a conjunction of the two) then I may weaken my ability to do all that I have to act on.

I am eating well enough – vegetables, fish, dairy, some meats – but I do know that it isn’t anywhere near enough for all the activity that I engage in. I am always scampering to calculate the calories or the grams of fat, and that practice inhibits what I am able to comfortably eat. Of course, there are times when I am so disgusted with the processing and calculations that I just eat. But, that also leads to some forceful acts – where I just endeavor to fill my stomach – still with good food, but the act is done with violence rather than love – or with a real sense of nourishing the body.

Exercise is my staple – it really helps me deal with the anxiety and stress. I dislike going so early in the morning – because of the lack of daylight and cold, but I feel much better after a workout.

Dating is still a foreign thing to me. I have very little desire to put myself out there. I was going to meet someone this weekend, but made an excuse and cancelled. I am able to meet up with friends but I don’t want to invest time and energy into someone that really holds little interest.

My birthday was spent with family and friends – it went well even though there are so many feelings that are present about aging – body, love, professional pursuits etc.

Hope to write again soon.

MBI

Updates

2009-01-20T14:08:00.001-08:00

Since I am very busy with my professional stuff, I am being ever so vigilant about my eating and exercise regiment. I have to be careful not to overdo the exercise, and I must take steps to continue eating enough. It amazes me how quickly I have the power to turn toward old habits of restriction and over exercising in order to gain control. I know well enough that such behaviors foster a false sense of control.

The gym is full of the New Year’s resolution folks. It is great to see so many people but it also annoys me because I have to endure the crowds. I am finding it difficult to get up in the morning to go to the gym because of the low temperatures and the darkness. My motivations for a toned and muscular body can only count so much these days. I do give myself a break but I also find that going helps me fight of seasonal affective depression. The endorphins give me a greater sense of hope and ability to cope during the winter months.

I continue to take off my pants in the locker room. I am always a bit anxious right before they come down – a slightly lower anxiety than the one I feel right before I take off my shirt (and stay bare chested). I have even delayed putting any clothes on so that I may test out my feelings and the state of my body in its semi-nakedness. There are feelings of excitement, eroticism, happiness, and pride when I am disrobed. I will have to monitor how these feelings progress.

It was my birthday this past weekend, and I have been inundated with thoughts, but I shall keep them for another entry.

Stay well, MBI

FOOD

2009-01-10T14:09:00.000-08:00

I was able to have a pretty solid week food wise except for last night. I sifted through and destroyed 2 cakes. I ate the parts that I wanted to – but I dissected the rest and threw it all out. In conjunction to feeling really guilty, fat and fearful of the calories, I also felt extremely full. It was a punishment that I felt quite deserving because of what I did. Now, to figure out what led me to acting that way? I was feeling okay the whole day but there was a rising anger that I could not fully understand. I am not totally unsure of what caused the anger – it wasn’t one solitary incident – but rather a conflation of work, school, research and personal life. I think it all manifested itself in the frenzied eating. It is so very confusing because there is also some glimpses of solitary pleasure in the cake dissection. I enjoy eating the parts I do, but also I enjoy having the control in throwing the rest out. I hate the feelings afterward (as mentioned above) and the cost of it physically and financially.

GYM – There is some addiction that I am noticing with gaining muscle – the more I develop, the more I want to continue to work hard to maintain and enhance the look. There is an inner thrill that I obtain in viewing myself in the mirror and noticing that I am looking rather pumped after a workout. I hate admitting this out of fear of the feeling and image being taken away (remnants of magical thinking). It also distresses me because it further bonds me to the codes of masculinity that I have witnessed in other men and have not totally been liked.

I continue to undress – shirts and pants, although not at the same time. I am trying to become more comfortable with my body. How long will it take – I am about to turn another year older. Aging is yet another factor that leads me to working out at the gym with greater ferocity. I want to be able to do it before time ticks away and removes my strength. The work out also abates the anxiety of the aging process. A graceful acceptance is truly the key!!

Can anyone relate?

Stay well,
MBI

A NEW YEAR

2009-01-01T11:58:00.001-08:00

Happy New Year!!! I was at the gym this very cold morning, and I wondered what in God’s name I was doing there? First, it was New Year day and there were very few people out or at the gym; second, it was freezing outside which made it quite an unpleasant 15 minute walk, and three, I have been battling a head and chest cold for the past couple of weeks. Yet, there I was in the middle of an empty fitness room trying to lift weights. I am working so hard for me, or a phantom boyfriend, or a critical social sphere? I don’t exactly know – but I can bet it is some combination of all three. I have been trying to examine what is driving me to go to the gym 6 to 7 days a week. I realize that given my heavy schedule with work and school that I am pushing it a bit, but I find it so very difficult to stop. I can see some results from my consistent work and I am so frightened to have it stop. I find it difficult to even write that I am going so often to the gym. There is a small part that believes admittance will cause the action to stop.

I took a bold step today in the locker room. I actually removed my pants and changed into a pair of jeans. Granted, this move was greatly motivated by the cold, but I did it nonetheless. It was okay – and I even took a moment to look at myself in the mirror to analyze what other may see. I did not mind the way my thighs, pelvis, and legs looked. I also took off my shirt – but that is something that I have been doing for quite a while – albeit with considerable anxiety. There was one guy present as I was taking my pants off, but I took a breath and did it anyway. It felt really good. I was empowered by the act and hope that I may continue to take such steps.

Holiday food madness is coming to an end – thankfully. I am so tired of having to sit around a dinner table for so many hours. Italians use holidays as an outlet to feast on foods (as many other cultures do) and I find it quite nice but very taxing as well.

Another year has past but the last has seen considerable progress. I am happy with the steps I have taken in some facets of my life, but the social part still needs further cultivation. I can only hope that continued strides are made.

I will write again soon (and sooner than other times).

Stay well, MBI

FACEBOOK AND BODY IMAGE

2008-12-21T12:27:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-06T12:49:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-30T10:31:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-23T10:26:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-14T12:16:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-07T12:46:00.000-08:00

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

2008-10-31T13:39:00.001-07:00

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

2008-10-24T13:27:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-19T08:23:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-12T12:39:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-03T13:41:00.001-07:00

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

2008-09-28T17:10:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-20T08:01:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-13T12:43:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-07T17:08:00.001-07:00

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

2008-09-03T19:29:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-01T09:39:00.001-07:00

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

2008-08-29T13:45:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-25T11:39:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-23T08:50:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-20T11:35:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-17T08:07:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-14T13:44:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-12T09:19:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-09T15:09:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-06T14:48:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-03T18:27:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-01T13:55:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-30T14:07:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-27T18:05:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-23T14:05:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-21T15:16:00.000-07:00

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?

MEDICATION II

2008-07-19T12:02:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-14T09:16:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-11T17:08:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-08T09:37:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-06T14:59:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-02T15:37:00.000-07:00

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

SEX I

2008-06-30T19:46:00.000-07:00

A discussion of body image cannot exclude sex. While sexual research and surveys indicate that the best sex takes place in one’s mind, arguments can be made that the body can be a worthwhile tool for the mind to exploit during such intimate (or not so intimate) encounters.

Sex – as an act - has always been uncomfortable for me because of my body image issues. I am interested in it – indeed, I think about it quite a bit, and have tried to enjoy it as best I could. Unfortunately, no matter how much the effort, I consistently have difficulty in immersing myself within the sexual moment. My mind always wanders, retracts, scrambles, lunges and quickens to my body, and thoughts inevitably and pervasively hinge on self-judgment. At the beginning of my sexual relationships, thoughts were strongly laden with criticisms centered on internalized homophobia. In time, they gradually developed into a caustic duet of anti-gay rhetoric and adjudications on how poor my body looked in comparison to the man next to me. I clearly recall how often I would stare at my “boyfriend’s” body and yearn for the hardness of his muscles, and the toned quality of the skin that covered his stomach, chest, arms and legs. I feel that my body is huge and soft – Raphaelesque in its plumpness and tenderness. Not at all like the muscular and fit bodies that I am attracted to, and who have at times slept next to me.

Intellectually, I can reason on ways to convince my eyes to perceive my body as being something other than the soft huge creature my mind often impresses the eyes to reflect. These are difficult moments because there is the healthy voice that endeavors to affiliate itself with reason and see what is really there, and then there is the familiar voice that habitually sides with dysfunction. Habit often wins out, but happily not as frequently these days.

Can anyone relate?

Stay well, MBI

This Morning

2008-06-28T17:32:00.000-07:00

This morning was very difficult. I woke up to attend the gym, but felt really miserable once I looked in the mirror and saw my reflection. I looked very bloated and fat. I could not see nay definition in my arms and chest and believed that I gained a massive amount of weight and flesh overnight. An impossibility – I know – but I felt and thought it all the same. I could not bear to look at myself in the mirror – and yet could not look away either. I was compelled to stay in front of it and point out every physical detail. With every minute I stared, I picked out yet another aspect of my body that I perceived as ugly, misshaped and not masculine.

My face look old and haggard; I had no luster in my eyes. My hair – what is left of it – was unseemly and looked as if more had fallen out overnight. I saw the blubber of my sides folding over my short pants and felt sloppy and grossly obese. I thought the skin had gotten tighter – even my trainer had commented on it a few weeks ago. Apparently, we were both seeing things that were not there. Was he lying to me? I could not stand the spectacle of my arms. They just looked like lumps of bloated appendages with unsightly and unmanly stretch marks. My chest looked like massive mams rather than the hard pecs that I was working so hard to achieve. How could this all be happening at the same time???

I had to change my shirt three times before I actually left the house. The previous two shirts made me feel huge. As I walked to the gym, I felt as if all eyes were staring at me, critically noting my body and making quick comparisons on how their body was superior to mine. I knew from experience that this was not the best frame of mind to attend the gym. In the past, I would take such mental vehemence and turn it into physical exhaustion by working out in a very unhealthy manner. This morning, I tried to reign in my thoughts and bring in some of the reasoning I knew would place things in a better perspective.

I reasoned to myself that my body is not as bad as I think it is. My issues often exaggerate what is being actually perceived. I thought about the times when I liked the way my body was looking (rare – in know – but it happens) and how I can feel that way again. I also explained that the body does not always feel or look the same. I could therefore be seeing the result of something that will come to pass. I repeated this to myself many times before actually reaching the gym.

For better or for worse (depending on which side you ask the reasonable me or the dysfunctional one) the reasoning worked. Although I did exercise a bit more than usual on the cardiovascular machines in an attempt to “unbloat” myself, I was able to stop before I reached an exhaustive level.

Difficult but true.

Can anyone relate??

Stay well, MBI

AUSTRALIAN STUDY

2008-06-26T18:49:00.000-07:00

In a recent study, it was noted that Australians are more obsessed about their looks than their Asian counterparts (the link to the article is attached). The study indicated that Australian youth are seven times more likely to suffer from body image issues than Asian youth. A separate study found high rates of Body Dysmorphic Disorder (a reverse anorexia where man often believe that they have less muscles than they actually do) amongst Australian male gym users. One study attributed the body image issues to the Western world’s obsession to lookism and the value that is placed on physical attractiveness over intellectuality.

There are have been numerous studies that have compared and analyzed how different countries grapple with issues such as attraction, body image, and eating. Most of them simply validate that which the researcher already suspected – Western nations have higher rates of body image issues and eating disorders. However, interesting data is surfacing in those countries that are slowly becoming more “westernized.” As Western media and physical ideologies infiltrate the new markets so do some dysfunctional behaviors such as eating disorders and body dysmorphia. However, total blame cannot be placed on the media alone. It is a mistake to think that media is the sole contributor to the eating and body image issues affecting many women and men (young and old). Certainly, the media is an important facet but a multitude of people are exposed to the images portrayed in the media and not all that are exposed develop eating disorders and body image issues.

For example, I am certainly not into pop culture and do not surround myself in the latest tabloids featuring celebrity news. Nor do I follow any of the popular television or movies. I am quite out of the loop compared to my friends and co-workers, who often have to take five minutes out of their conversation to update me on some celebrity mishap that I haven’t a clue about. I am not at all concerned with the Hollywood scene and rarely do I ever pick up a non-academic magazine. Yet, I still have body image issues and feel the effects of the images that are posted by various media sources. Yes, media is a vital component, but so are familial background, personal experiences, genetics and early relationships with people, food and objects. Each facet will give an indication as to how a person has come to relate with the external world and how they have come to perceive and relate to themselves.

What are your thoughts? I would really like to know.

Stay well, MBI

PRIDE PARADE

2008-06-25T12:24:00.000-07:00

Gay Pride is this Sunday, and while I attend the parade festivities each year, I still have some anxiety prior to making the decision to actually go. The anxiety stems from the fact that I will be surrounded by male bodies I find attractive but yet elusive and intimidating. I am afraid of going to a place of judgment and ultimately feeling depressed. In the past, I’ve acknowledged the bodies and have tried to deny my attraction to them. I have centered on some perceived superficiality on their part, so to lessen the totality of their superiority, and thereby protect my uneven position. As I become better acquainted with my own feelings, these techniques don’t function as well as they used to. At present, I acknowledge my attraction, try to tolerate the feelings of inferiority that creep up, but I try not to ponder on the comparative analysis to the point of driving myself into a depression. Instead, I try to connect with the parts of me that I find positive. This is quite a marked change – it has taken quite a while to instill.

DEPRESSION AND EATING

2008-06-24T13:29:00.001-07:00

I have experienced depression during many periods of my life. Some bouts have been deeper than others, but they have all been quite taxing. Depression runs in my family quite a bit and I don’t dispute that the gene(s) runs strongly in me. I am quite sure that I was swerving in and out of mild and serious bouts of depression throughout my childhood and adolescence. As I mentioned in previous entries, my young years were marked by some very harrowing verbal abuse. I was the constant brunt of many jokes, pranks and taunts by school and neighborhood kids. My sexuality, weight, and overall appearance were considered a fair target for all that needed to vent their own frustration or mark their superiority. The daily dose of abuse severely hindered my ability to lead a normal childhood because the words penetrated my own self-perception and forever (at seemingly) altered the way I defined myself. I have little doubt that the abuse was a main contributor to deepening the depressive episodes and also very often led me to binge on food. Verbally assaulted and left with little esteem except for that which remained by my ability to still exceed academically, I turned to food for comfort and as a way of replenishing what ever identity I could salvage.

Today, while reality illuminates the years between the present and the abusive episodes, memories are quickly recollected whenever I pass a schoolyard, hear the yells of children as they pass by, or listen to the recount of other abusive experiences. I am also still prone to depression and guard against falling into deeper holes. I can easily turn to food whenever I feel down, and while the food does not provide the comfort it once did, I notice how behavioral habits are hard to break even when their effect is no longer felt. When I am feeling down I open my refrigerator over 40 times in a three hour period (I know – I counted). Even as I go toward the refrigerator I know that I will not get any food, but the mere act provides some “creature” comfort. The action connects me with the past but it also demonstrates my present growth – there isn’t the need to actually eat each time I go to the refrigerator.

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

Stay well, MBI

FOOD VII - CHEWING AND SPITTING CONTINUED

2008-06-22T18:54:00.000-07:00

I reasoned that the chewing and spitting technique was what I used so to not take in calories and fat, but it was something much deeper than that. It had to be, because it was too harsh of a method and it was felt too viscerally not to be connected with my emotions. With the help of therapy, I started noticing that I turned to the foods that would then prompt chewing and spitting behavior when I was being taxed or positively excited at work, school or in my personal relationships. By stuffing my mouth with three or four chocolate bars, chewing until each piece was broken down and I tasted the hot swirled mixture of chocolate and caramel in my mouth, swallowing a bit of it, and then spitting out the rest into a napkin, I was relieving the anxiety triggered by whatever incident had arisen. The chewing and spitting was the way I chose to communicate the intensity of my anxious feelings.

Let me explain further: An incident occurs such as a positive acknowledgement at work and school. While I am grateful for the attention and appreciate the feedback, I am also frightened by it. Feelings of success and happiness are unfamiliar. They are not the typical emotions that I have been surrounded by for much of my life. Although I strive to integrate them within my daily existence and have them become more permanent fixtures in my emotional repertoire, I am nonetheless overwhelmed and confused when they do arise. Taken by these thoughts, I am no longer walking on solid secure ground. Instead, the world swirls around me as if I was living a surreal existence. A concoction of anxiety and excitement builds within me, but it is subdued and simultaneously overpowered by a foreshadowed doom. Dark feelings tinged with expectation start to permeate every thought. To ease my mind, I turn to comfort food and stuff my mouth with whatever sweet chocolate pieces I can find. Chewing the chocolate gives me a sense of relief, some control, and uneasily – some pleasure. As I chew the sweets, I think about the triggers. I can still feel the anxiety that the triggers cause, but now I am at a safe distance. As I chew, I begin to realize just how much I have stuffed in my mouth, and immediately, as if on automatic pilot, my mind calculates the possible fat and calories my mouthful contains. I start to stress at the high number the calculation has yielded. At the same time, pangs of guilt make their presence. I start blaming myself for turning to chewing and spitting as a way of coping with the overwhelming feelings rather than being strong enough to handle the triggers as they come up. I feel guilty for wasting food, since I know deep down I will not be swallowing all of it. Once the inside of my mouth is coated with enough melted chocolate, I am ready to swallow. . .a bit. Swallowing relieves the guilt I feel for the act of spitting it out. Swallowing also symbolically allows me to take in the feelings triggered by the episode in a manner that I am more comfortable with. It makes me acknowledge that I am strong enough to handle the incident, its feelings and all the underlying triggers associated with the past. Once I have swallowed a bit, I am ready to quickly spit out the rest into a napkin. This act is symbolic of the inability to fully integrate with the feelings engaged by the incident. It brings me back to reality again. My connection with guilt resumes.

Of course all of this has only become clear to me through years of internal reflection and therapy.

Does anyone relate?

Stay well, MBI

FOOD VI – CHEWING AND SPITTING

2008-06-21T14:55:00.000-07:00

A phenomenon that is being spoken of with more frequency with the eating disorder community is chewing and spitting (C&S). I started to C&S during the period of time when I was not restricting as much of my intake of food. I was still exercising but had had made some progress with the “restricting” factor. Due to my work in therapy, I had started to understand the links between the restrictive episodes and the emotional incidence that would trigger them. Slowly, but ever progressively, I noticed that I was eating with greater frequency. I did not turn to restricting for modulating and communicating my internal and emotional state. Rather, I started to articulate what I was feeling in words (instead of food). This was a very slow process; whenever there were improvements with food, I would make up the “slack” by increasing my exercise. Therefore, running and weight training became the vehicle for navigating my internal emotional strife. C&S was the natural reaction to my ability to move away from the excessiveness of exercise.

To clarify what I mean by chewing and spitting - I would chew a chocolate bar, allow some of it to be swallowed and then spit out the rest into a napkin. I calculated that this behavior would give me some of the sweets that I craved but not the calories or fat that I was so frightened to gain. I wanted to swallow some of the sweet food because I thought it was important for the maintenance of my endocrine system. I reasoned that the process of chewing a sweet food was already signaling the body to produce insulin. Had I spit out the entirely of the sweet that I was chewing, the body would produce insulin in excess because it would not be utilized in digesting and synthesizing the spit out food. Consequently, by swallowing a bit of it I was allowing the body to function in a somewhat “normal” capacity.

I am painfully aware of how calculated this reasoning is and also how I have difficulty in referring to the body as “mine” - in the possessive tense. That is one of the barriers that I continue to have from time to time – connecting with my own body; a sense of being integrated in body, mind, and emotions. I never chewed and spit out food that I deemed was important or real, such as chicken, vegetables, complex carbohydrates etc. The chewing and spitting was restricted (no pun intended) to the sweets – those foods/snacks that I thought were superfluous to what I really needed, by yet craved. I turned to those foods, as many others do, when I needed comfort or a sense of grounding. Chocolate, cakes, candy bars, ice cream and chips provided (and still do- but to a much smaller extent) a sense of comfort at a time when I despaired about what life was presenting me. These foods were also a connection to the past. They were the food of choice in days of overeating. They gave me some peace in my isolation and confusion. As I lessened the restricting behavior and exercised with greater moderation, I became more anxious about putting on weight from these types of “comfort” foods. They no longer provided me the grounding or consolation they did in the past when other mechanisms such as excessive exercise could buffer the anxiety about eating them in the first place. The only way those foods could continue to maintain their role in providing relief would be to chew (swallow some) and spit out the rest.

More on this tomorrow.

Can anyone relate? I would really like to know.

Stay well, MBI

ATTRACTION & THOUGHTS II

2008-06-19T11:19:00.000-07:00

The need to constantly compare is compulsively strong. I am always feeling as if I need to assess my body as it looks against another man’s body – most especially of those bodies I am most attracted to. There is a mind game that takes place between the healthy part of me and that which I have labeled the dysfunctional part. They battle between what is seemingly positive thinking (leaving me feeling okay about myself) and that which I know will only lead to more heartache and low esteem. I cannot seem to avoid the slippery slope especially when I am around a man who I have judged to possess a nice body. There is an automatic trigger that makes me center and obsess on him. I start to mentally calculate his muscularity, tone and overall appearance. I don't give him a score - it isn't anything so analytical or mathematical. Rather, I immediately am able to mentally hold an image of him in my mind and use that figure as a point of comparison with the representation I have of my own body. Many friends have told me that the image I hold of myself is skewed and intellectually I can certainly understand it but I am unable to fully carry it through so as to stop the mental process of comparison. In focusing on the good body of a man - I have a tendency of staring but will try to do so without the person knowing it. Usually the process happens intermittently as I pretend to look elsewhere. I am studying every thing about the guy - his chest, legs, arms, face, and package. My gaze attempts to drink him in – as if to internalize him so that he will always be a part of me; that he is me in some way and I him. By mentally possessing the image in my mind I feel a part of the all male club that I have always been excluded from. Of course, intellectually I am painfully aware that this very act of scrutiny all the more excludes me because with every ounce of my energy I use to study them, I am building a greater barrier between them and me. I am feeling more and more as the "other". By placing so much attention on the beautiful body, I am casting my own body aside and making it insignificant.

As I progress up my 30s, I wonder how much physical improvement I can expect. Am I foolish to think that I will have a nice body . . . one day? Here I am working so very had to achieve the (perhaps) unachievable. Is it hope that keeps me exercising with such disciplined vigor, foolishness, or dysfunction? I have an inclination that it is a combination of all three. Yet, I persevere.

So much emphasis is placed on sex and bodily satisfaction, I feel quite divorced from the whole system. The issues I have about my body keep me from freely engaging in sexual activity. Other gay men I know readily partake in casual sexual encounters. I don’t. I know they are not acting in responsibly or healthy (physical and emotionally), but I readily admit that physical contact is important. I know its missing from my life and I greatly yearn for it. The emphasis placed on physical beauty and the way in which I have grasped on to that idealization makes me believe that sex can only be enjoyed by the young and beautiful. Intellectually I know this not to be the case, but I am often so affected by the concept that it becomes difficult to imagine otherwise. I am always caught in this bind of false realizations. One being that youth is behind me and so is the chance for a meaningful relationship. I did not fully take advantage of my youth and now those days and the opportunities they may have presented are gone. In youth, I was too closed, confused, scared and bewildered to all that was around me. I did not know how to navigate the waters of my sexuality and so I denied and suppressed a great deal of any evident sexual maturation. I did not want to connect with any of those feelings. Doing so would only bring me closer to a part of the self that I could not yet tolerate or fully observe.

There is so much more on this topic to write. I will do so in later entries.

Can anyone relate? I would really like to hear from you.

Stay well, MBI

ATTRACTION & THOUGHTS

2008-06-18T11:41:00.000-07:00

As I previously mentioned, nothing fully prepared me for the inferiority I felt (and continue to feel – to some extent) when comparing myself to other men within the gay community. I am incessantly comparing myself to other men and feel as if I never measure up to those whose bodies are more toned, muscular and athletic. Emotions such as despair, anger, regret, sadness, and jealousy well up, drown me and also make it sometimes impossible to keep any clear perspective. When I see a good looking man, I immediately turn inward – reflect and come out feeling deflated. Thoughts are riddled and center themselves on how good the other guy looks and how I am inferior in every way. My thinking patterns of being “less than” the masculine men I am always comparing myself to have the tendency of taking me out of the “male” category and placing me into that of “female.” No – I don’t believe females are “less than” – I am just trying to elaborate on how the thinking process often undresses me, berates and scolds me physically, and ends almost but not quite emasculating me. I often feel not worthy enough to be considered a man.

The exaggerated emphasis the gay world places on have a toned and athletic body makes me feel as if I am always playing a game of “catch up.” I never feel entirely at the same level as another. Just when I feel as if I have made certain advancements in looking better, I am struck by another guy’s “perfection” and am thrust once again into a depressing abyss. The feelings of inferiority about my body often inhibit my ability to fully interact with gay men. Let me explain – while I am able to talk to them and carry on some level of interaction, I am acutely aware of their superior looks and am constantly having to dodge the harangues of inferior thoughts that are popping through my mind. I go to a place of self-judgment and it has me feeling depressed. This does not have to necessarily happen only during direct interactions. The thought process may occur when preparing to attend an event when I know other gay men will be. It seems that I have to prepare my mind with defenses against the onslaught of my own judgments. What is worse than feeling inadequate, is that I will also feel attracted to those guys that I feel are physically superior. This attraction stirs shame, turns me on and also causes internal anger. The shame stems from my internalized homophobia. The sexual turn originates from my natural feelings of attraction. And the anger is a result of being turned on by features that I believe are completely alien to my own physique. My attraction to toned and muscular bodies – I believe all the more validates my feelings of inferiority to not have one.

More on this tomorrow.

Can anyone relate? I would really like to know.

Stay well, MBI

FOOD V

2008-06-09T21:32:00.000-07:00

After the crash diet experienced in my late teens, I spent a few years fluctuating in weight. I would lose some pounds and then gain some of them back. However, I made certain to not return to the 280 pounds I was during my early teens - my exercise routine also helped with that endeavor. However, it was the "coming out" process and all that embroils with self, others and community - that drastically changed my relationship to food . . and exercise.

I thought acknowlegding my homosexuality would in fact give me some internal peace, which would subsequently place me in a better place mentally and emotionally. I thought my erratic relationshp with food was due to my being "closeted." I had binged to offset the gay related bullying, and to achieve some mode of acceptance. I dieted to offset the damage of the bullying, to both acknowledge my budding sexuality and to reign it in, and to reclaim acceptance societally and familialy. Coming out did not give me the peace I had so thought to obtain. Yes, I was happy to finally reach some level of self-acceptance, but I was not prepared for the flood of emotions that drowned me at every new turn.

At first, I did not come out to any family members. Therefore, holding that secret created a great deal of anxiety and also made me painfully aware that as long as I kept an important part of my life a secret, I could never fully obtain the acceptance I desired. I was used to not communicating with my parents, but now I was aware of just how much I was not sharing with them. Before - when I was hiding from myself - I too was in the dark with just how much I was not acknowledging. I turned to the gay community for help and with finding some kind of extended family, but I did not find would sought. Yes, I did find different brochures and certain small seminar like structures that explained what would be encountered in the coming out process, but nothing prepared me for the strict codes of "lookism" I was to observe.

Since I had always been so afraid to accept my being gay, I did everything possible to avoid that sector of the community. I never ventured anywhere "gay" related, nor did I get close to any of the gay people I worked with. I could not be seen with them because that would implicate me (so I thought). Therefore, when I came out and ventured into the gay "getto" I was shocked as to how similar many of the gay men looked. I realized very quickly that muscles, a toned body, and a sculpted face were top attractiveness points. I also realized that I did not conform to the standard in any way. It was this realization that exacerbated feelings of physical inadequacy. I was angry for not fitting in by looking like what was being propogated as attractive, but I was angrier still that I was attracted to what was being billed as so. The inner tension of being attracted to the celebrated look and of not looking that way caused incredible emotional turmoil. I was filled with anger, sadness, confusion, hostility and anxiety. I did not know how to relate to all these feelings, and I certainly did not know how to identify or communicate them to anyone - even my own therapist at the time. Consequently, I turned to the only communicative method I knew - food and exercise. By retricting the food, I would moderate the ebbs and flows of my erratic emotional state. The restiction of food and the increase in exercise helped me navigate all the emotions that welled up from my interactions with the gay community and gay men and they helped me deal with all the feelings that came in from the past. I recall how restricting food and actually feeling the pangs of hunger seemed to quench this internal frenzy. The pangs for food quieted the anger the gnawed me internally. The anger that was still not fully expressed for being teased and beaten as a child and adeolescent. The anger for the years of an unfulfilled childhood. As those feelings were triggered from incidences around me or by remembrances - I restricted more food and or increaed the amount of exercise.

I realize this entry was quite intense. If you should have any questions - I would love to hear from you.

stay well, MBI

FOOD IV

2008-06-07T18:48:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned in my previous entry, food had become a close ally in my need to build a fortress from all those that tried very hard to break me. Indeed, I binged in a sub-conscious effort to not feel the total destruction that the verbal and physical antics of both children and adults had on my life. Each time I needed comfort in those hours of despair, I turned to food - my own reliable companion. I did not have close friends - most took part in calling me fag at one time or another. So they could not be trusted. I could not turn to teachers. They witnessed what I was going through. They saw how how many times during the day I would be taunted by other kids and even some adults - but they did nothing. I could not turn to my family because of the shame connected to what others were saying. I was also scared that they would blame me or not take my experience seriously. Therefore food became my arbiter - I learned to communicate through it. Instead of verbalizing my anger and pain - I ate food. The overeating also had an additional benefit; kids now called me "fat" instead of "fag." At least being called "fat" I could understand - it was noticeable and in the moment. The other names related to sexuality; it hurt but I could not so readily or easily understand it.

I continued to constantly binge until my late teens. In retrospect, I am quite amazed that I survived the experience without turning violent on myself or/and others. I did have suicidal thoughts but luckily I was either (or both) too neurotic or scared to go through with it. I came close several times - though. Imagine the state I was in to fantasize and plan out my death. The level of despair was great (but I will write more about that in a different entry).

At age 16, I weighed 280 pounds and decided to go on a crash diet. I had used food for over a decade as a way to quiet the internal storms that were being triggered by various physical, emotional and environmental factors. It had worked . . . for a while. As with any "good" thing, it did not last forever. The verbal abuse directed at my weight started to increse as I put on more and more pounds. The guys in school ( I attended an all boy school) were being really cruel. Not only were they calling me names like "pig", "hog", "fatso" etc., but they were starting to draw pictures of me in ugly characterizations. My parents and their friends were also starting to comment on my weight. It seemed that I had crossed the boundary of when eating was not considered a good thing anymore. These negatives and an emerging sexual curiosity gave me the incentive to go on the strict crash diet. Food was to now be an enemy. My long dear friend who accompanied me through many lonely journies through vastly depressing moments was to be turned away. How was I to deal with all my feelings if food was not going be the comfortable source? I was to use the restriction of food as the conrol mechanism for all the feelings that I could not yet process. By not taking in food - I was not taking in the names and bullying being hurled at me. The lessening of food and the increase in exercise was going to mediate the budding feelings of attraction I had for the same sex. As I became attracted to some of the guys around me - I exercised or restricted my intake of food more. I did not want to fully take in the fact that I was having those types of feelings for guys. That would validate the abusers. I also thought in having those feelings that the abusers had a right to call me those names. Remember - all this processing occurred on a sub-consious level. I only discovered these things after years of self analysis and therapy.

My relationship with food and with exercise hit even stronger levels as I acknowledged more and more certain parts of the self.

Does this resonate for anyone? I would really like to know.

Stay well, MBI

FOOD III

2008-06-05T12:03:00.000-07:00

The appetite stimulants my parent gave me did in fact increase my appetite and I received a lot of positive acknowledgment from them because of it. They didn’t shower me with compliments, but rather the tension during dinner and bedtime ended. Unfortunately the increase in appetite coincided with verbal (and sometimes physical) abuse I was enduring in school. I was being teased every day for being gay. Although I didn’t explicitly state that I was gay, I was labeled as being gay by all the other kids (and some teachers) in my school and neighborhood. Children and adults can be quite cruel. I did not fit into the role expected of a young boy. I was not athletic, did not enjoy sports, and was never into other “boy” associated activities. I usually liked to read, create and hang with adults. My gender non-conformity subjected me to hours, days, months, and years of taunting words from ignorant children and even more ignorant adults. The bullying was horrific and it became the new “hell” (the old “hell” being meal times and bedtime) I had to learn to endure. Every school day became a nightmare as kids, some of whom I thought were my friends, ganged up and teased me for something that I did not fully understand. The shame and stigma embedded with being called “faggot”, “gaylord”, and “sissy” kept me from disclosing the torment I was undergoing. I couldn’t bear to state to anyone out loud that I was being called a fag in school. I didn’t want those words to come out of my mouth – doing so would seem to make them all the more a reality and would somehow validate them. I also thought family members would be ashamed of me and would hate having me be a part of their bloodline. Even though I spent many hours in my room crying and coming home with bruises, my parents never knew what was going on. They were oblivious to it –done in a conscious or sub-conscious manner – I don’t know.

I began to enmesh with food the hurt suffered from the bullying and physical abuse. Since I had gotten positive feedback from my parents for eating more, I subconsciously connected overeating with the submergence of anger, confusion and pain. Food was to anesthetize the sting of the bullying words. A few years before, the appetite stimulant kept me from tuning into my real hunger needs by sending out synthetic signals to eat. Now, food was to keep me from integrating and processing the hurt and confusion associated with the bullying. I would remain a “good boy” by eating a lot and by keeping my school grades high, and most importantly I would not fight back. Needless to say, the food was a good strategy in the short-term because it allowed me to remain intact and functioning as the bullying was slowly annihilating my esteem and ego. While I excelled in my studies, I remained inert in every other facet of my life. By the time I had reached mid adolescence, I was almost one hundred pounds overweight, never engaged in any physical activity and had sub-consciously placed myself into being sexually inert. I remember eating so much food when I was alone. I was the classic closet eater because most of my binges occurred when I was alone – either on weekends or right after I would come home from school. I would love having huge sandwiches, Chinese takeaways, chips, soda and any kinds cakes and candy. I would plan and fantasize about the meal I would eat. Thinking about the food and the manner in which I would eat it, calmed all the emotions that welled up but nonetheless remained unregistered. By that I mean, that the feelings were felt but on a superficial level. I never allowed them to fully penetrate; I always remained a few steps ahead of the sadness and total feeling of abandon. Binging on food was a way of calming all the fury that was going on inside. When I would feel erratic and out of control because of what was triggered during my day, I would turn to food to quiet and steady my nerves. It would return (at least for a short time) a sense of equilibrium. While the binge was unhealthy in the long term, it was a true savior in the short-term because it provided what my environment could not – some semblance of control (more on this in later entries).

Can anyone relate? I would really like to know.

More food sequence will follow.

Stay well,

MBI

FOOD II

2008-06-03T19:48:00.001-07:00

As I briefly wrote on May 28, I have long had a dysfunctional relationship with food. In young childhood (years 3 through 6) I ate very little and appeared quite thin. I did in fact eat, but I was picky with the foods I liked and did not eat very much of any one thing. I remember family meal times were a nightmare because my parents would spend the majority of the time complaining about my poor eating habits (not eating all of the food they prepared). My finicky eating pattern was an extreme offense to them. They took it personally – as a sign of poor parenting or something far worse (at least in the Italian culture – bad cooking. Meal times usually ended with me crying due to my frustration with having to fight with my parents for not wanting to finish the food on my plate, or due to my father hitting me out of his frustration for not having a compliant son. I need to better understand whether my eating behavior was in fact trying to communicate something to my parents - some pain, hurt, or confusion that I could not yet verbalize. The self-restriction of food was the only way to I was able to maintain some sense of calm and equilibrium.

That sense of calm ended when my parents had me placed on appetite stimulants. I remember the anger I felt, as my mother would hand me the pill. I couldn’t bring myself to swallow it. It was too big and made me feel as if I was choking. The pill was often given to me at bedtime, which on its own would put me into a panic, however coupled with the pill factor – the bedtime experience became a pure hell. My parents and sister resorted to wrapping the pill in between soft pieces of bread so that it would be easier for me to swallow. Yet, I still couldn’t find the space in my throat to swallow the pill and bread. They finally resorted to getting the stimulant in liquid form. Although that eased my tension regarding the pill, the sheer “weight” of my troubles was only beginning.

Until the next time,
MBI

STRETCH MARKS

2008-06-01T14:20:00.000-07:00

As promised: Stretch Marks.

I have some stretch marks that cut laterally across my abdomen, on my sides, underneath my upper arms and of all places, on the undersides of my knees. I really didn’t pay much attention to them until I was in my mid-twenties. They seemed to just appear out of nowhere, but I guess they are the result of my years of being quite overweight. I hate seeing them for they are reminders that I will never have the toned body that I at times so desperately try to achieve. They effeminate me for I equate them to what a pregnant woman gets from childbearing. I have spent an accumulation of hours looking at them in the mirror and have yearned to erase them from my body. There were times in fits of anger that I would pull at my skin to make it as taut as possible so that the stretch marks would seem to disappear. And there were more reasonable moments when I would place ointments on them to make them less noticeable. Now, I just try to avoid looking at them as I am undressing, changing or taking a shower. There are days when I do notice them more, especially when my body is reflected in the mirror with strong sunlight. Every flaw in my skin seems worse then, but I am at a place where I understand that to be the case, and can quickly move on to other things without torturing myself further on the issue – as I would in the past.

My dislike in seeing the stretch marks keeps me from taking off my shirt at the beach and also from wearing shirts that have shorter cut sleeves. Even though I am becoming more muscular in my upper body, I still don’t act deliberate in revealing my upper torso in public. I envy the guys that I observe who have such even skin tone. I have looked at those guys at the gym and have seen them walking down the street. I imagine the pride they must have in their bodies, and that imagined conceit drives thick walls between them and me. I feel lessened and humiliated. Feelings of emasculation start to creep up and it takes all my energy to not wallow in any self-deprecating mental jargon. I quickly move on. . ..

Friends have told me countless times that I should expose my body more – that my body isn’t as bad as I believe it is. There is a small part (and ever increasing) that believes them, but I am still hesitant. I still have to battle the internal voice, which keeps me constantly vigilant about what others are thinking about me.

My exaggerated attention to the stretch marks may have been the result of a few incidences that have occurred with a couple of men. On two separate occasions men I dated have pointed to my stretch marks and have inquired as to what they were. Although these incidences were quite a few years ago, their memory still lingers. I remember feeling the sting of their question but more so, I remember the puzzled look on their faces as they asked. I felt belittled and abnormal. I felt “markedly” different from them. Their seemingly innocent questions seem to place me in the lesser position because they had no stretch marks. Their bodies were taut and were not inflicted with any reminders of previous indulgent behaviors (i.e., overeating).

I will write more soon.

Stay well,
MBI

MIRROR III - Hair

2008-05-31T16:19:00.000-07:00

Besides muscularity and body tone, there are two other very important features that play into the self-criticism that I endure when looking in the mirror and when comparing myself to other men – my hair and stretch marks.

Hair – During my adolescence and early twenties, my hair was considered one of my best features. It was beautifully wavy and thick. I could literally have it styled in any manner and it would compliment my face. Hair stylists would compliment me and I was often asked if photos could be taken of the cut they gave me so to be included within their styling portfolios. I was devastated when in my mid-to late twenties I started noticing some thinning on the top. My devastation tweaked with some denial eventually led me to consult with several doctors who prescribed ointments and pills at very exaggerated costs. As the years progressed my hair thinned further, but I have yet to be fully bald. Perhaps the Propecia and minoxidil combination have been somewhat successful in staving off total hair loss, but it isn’t a consolation that I am consistently happy to own.

The hair loss has had a tremendous effect on my esteem and total body image. While I have always had issues with my body shape, musculature, and weight, I was somewhat comfortable with my facial image. Others always told me that my face was handsome, and when looking in the mirror, I believed it at a deeper level though I would never admit to it. The hair loss has lessened the esteem I once held for my facial image. I no longer feel that I am as handsome and certainly can’t tolerate looking at my image in the mirror. I feel depreciated in value. Yes, I actually analogize the loss to that of a commodity that suffers a break and consequently losses value. As the hair thinned over the years (albeit at a slow rate) I have taken to wearing hats everywhere outside. I also wear a head bandana at the gym so when I do catch a reflection of myself in the mirror, I am not confronted with looking at my head with less hair. I used to not mind having pictures taken of me, now I usually shy away from them just so that I don’t have to see my head with less hair.

The hair loss has also affected the way I approach the world. I was never one to be overtly confident, but I usually was okay if the world was seeing my face. Now, I am more cautious when meeting people because I feel that the first thing they will notice is my thinning hair. My thoughts immediately turn to my looks and more specifically my hair when I have to meet a group of people or when I have to give a presentation. I especially dislike seeing friends or family that I have not seen in a few years because I know that they will undoubtedly notice the greater loss of hair that I have had from the previous time they have seen me. What am I afraid of? I fear that people will consider me ugly or less than another. I think that they may make fun of me in the same way that I was made fun of for being overweight and for being gay. I realize these are projections, but the acknowledgement does little to quay my mental histrionics. I also feel that my hair loss has made me a less viable dating option for other men. Although, I have always been attracted to bald men, I feel that the majority of gay men want men with a full head of hair. I have attributed the hair loss to men not finding me attractive. I often feel disempowered in the gay dating arena because of my hair loss. On line dating sites do nothing to assuage this notion, especially when I read profiles where men specifically state that they still have a “full head of hair”, or when profiles itemize everything but “bald” as being elements of attraction. When I read such things, I am not only filled with anger, fear and a forced arrogance that I try to muster from deep down, but I can also believe that these men are right. They have hair and can rightfully request (or demand) that those they date have hair too. There is a skewed sense of equity being played out. This faulty line of reasoning plays well in my sentiments of feeling “less than”. I know that the whole hair “thing” is yet another tool I use to berate my body image, but I cannot always easily reach for the brakes. Believe me, I realize that there are greater calamities in life than hair loss and I truly give some of my energies to those causes, but as I mentioned, I can’t break so easily from feeling quite down at times about the hair loss.

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

Be well,

MBI

(STRETCH MARKS to follow. . .)

EXERCISE

2008-05-30T12:02:00.000-07:00

I was at the gym this morning. I still find it so difficult to tolerate looking at the muscular men that are around me. I like looking at them but I know that in doing so, I will only be caught in the loop of being quite self-critical. I can’t help comparing my body to theirs and coming up with all the ways in which my body does not measure up. I am working really hard at trying to gain more muscle mass. My trainer is generating workout routines that are targeting specific muscle groups, and in all fairness, the workouts are doing what they are supposed to. However, I am rarely satisfied. Yes, I do feel some sense of accomplishment after completing a routine and I can observe the “swelling” of my upper body muscles. But the enlargement lasts for a short period of time. It is only during this short period that I am able to tolerate looking at myself in the mirror while changing my shirt in the locker room. Getting up the courage and tolerance to change in the locker room in front of other men and the mirrors is yet another important entry detail to be added a bit later.

Articles within fitness magazines, and advice from nutritionists, athletes, and trainers all relay the importance of diet when working out and especially when attempting to build muscles. I know from my own experience and from my own readings that it is indeed important. The problem is or was . . . well, I guess still is (but to a lesser degree) . . . that I am afraid to eat as much as I should because of the calories that appropriately and unavoidably accompany food. My fear of being overweight and my body image issues have certainly assisted with my restriction of food. I used several forms of exercise to balance and mediate the calories that ingested. My modus operandi at the gym was to complete 45 to 60 minutes of intense cardiovascular activity and then conclude with 20 minutes of weight training. Although my trainer was always telling me that I was doing way too much cardio and not eating enough – I found it quite difficult to stop. I just imagined myself being overweight again – as I had been through childhood and adolescence. I would not return to that person and all of the other issues that were related to being fat. At least as a thin person I felt more acceptable in society and within the gay community (more on this in later entries). Sadly, the gym was not the only form of exercise I engaged in. In addition to going to the gym five times a week, I would also walk for miles and sometimes follow-up gym activity with visits to the park where I would run a few miles. I did this type of routine for years and indeed got thinner but certainly not buffed as I had hoped. I remember being so proud of myself as I witnessed clothes fitting more loosely then before. I took great pride in the fact that I could easily say “no” to savory foods when others around me could not. I also recall the time when I started to become angry at the pleasure others took in eating when I could not (more on this in later entry). The obsession with getting muscular continued and my self-identity became even more enmeshed with body image and exercise.

My workouts these days contain a smaller amount of cardio and have more emphasis placed on weight training. They are better balanced and I feel more energized than I felt in the past when I was truly exhausted from the sheer amount and intensity of the cardio workouts.

I have written a lot – and there are many subjects embedded within this one that merit more attention. I will write soon.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Stay well,

MBI

Food and More About Me

2008-05-28T19:45:00.000-07:00

Ever since childhood, I have had a dysfunctional relationship with food. I ate very little at meal times, and then only some particular foods. This fact did not stand too well with my parents. Food is an extremely important symbol in the Italian culture. It is used to communicate and express feelings of love, hospitality and care. Many familial transactions take place around a setting where food is in some ways the ultimate arbiter. Therefore, my parents interpreted my temperamental eating habits as a personal assault perpetrated on their culinary talents and their skills as caregivers. To remedy the situation, my parents consulted with a physician about what they deemed to be my “poor” appetite. ” Although I was not medically diagnosed as being mal-nourished or below a normal body weight, I was still placed on medication that induced appetite. The intake of appetite stimulants coincided with episodes of verbal and physical abuse in school.

Fellow students and teachers were attacking me because my behavior was seen as atypical for a boy. My gender non-conformity created numerous incidents that placed me consistently on the margins of the school. While I achieved high grades, I was never fully accepted as a “normal” child. As episodes of abuse escalated, my need for food exceeded normal limits. I seemed to eat without any regard with what I was ingesting. Food was the brick and mortar used to shield me from the pain of the verbal and physical abuse. As my psychological identity was being annihilated by the stinging actions of my abusers, I was slowly waging combat against them with the only means I knew – food. I gradually built a fortress by increasing the external surface area of my physical being. As childhood turned into adolescence, I continued to over eat and the abusive incidences escalated to include attacks on my weight and appearance.

The years of verbal assault on my sexual orientation made me choose a road of self imposed isolation. In later adolescence and my early twenties I started therapy with a certified social worker. It was in therapy that I started to learn of my poor relationship with food, and the way I was using it to sublimate the feelings stirred by the teasing incidences. As I slowly took steps toward accepting my sexuality, I gradually started to balance my relationship with food, and commenced an exercise regiment. Feeling more confident in my identity and appearance, I started to engage with the homosexual community in hope of finally being wholly accepted by a social group. However, much to my horror and frustration, I discovered that the gay community also employed strict codes of standardization as to body image (appearance) and behavior. Not fitting neatly into these idealized normatives, I again found myself marginalized and isolated. Stimulated and infused with a barrage of images of beautiful men with muscular and toned bodies, I once again turned to food as a way of sublimating my feelings of loneliness, rejection and anger. I started to restrict many of the foods that once had given me some pleasure, and I also increased my exercise regiment to an excessive level. All this was done so that I could resemble the images that were being shown as the archetype of masculine homosexuality.

Can anyone relate? I would really like to hear from you.
Stay well, MBI

Mirror II

2008-05-27T13:41:00.001-07:00

While at the gym, I often look at men as they stare at themselves in the mirror. I try to understand if they like what they are looking at. For some, it seems as if the reflection is a positive one, for others, the reflection causes a shrug and a renewed intensity in working out. The gym’s many mirrors unfortunately open the field for me to scrutinize parts of my body. Although I am pretty well covered, my arms are exposed and for me that usually invites self-criticism related to the size of my chest and arm muscles. As I look at myself, I am always hopeful (this feeling gets replaced by despair, which in turn get replaced by hope) that the muscularity in my upper torso will increase. I work out quite intensively on that part of my body. I even meet with a trainer to ensure that I am doing all of the possible exercises to increase muscularity and firmness. As I work out and look at myself in the mirror, I habitually use nearby muscular men as points of comparison. I am usually quite judgmental that my body does not compare to their athleticism and muscular beauty. I feel less than and deflated. I don’t measure up to being the man’s man they seem to symbolize and that our society venerates all too frequently. I desperately try not to give in to the incessant criticism that my mind can blindly and easily hurl at me. I try to stop the mental insults before I am left too down in despair. Sometimes I am successful and am able to inject a moderate amount of hope in between the insults, thereby lessening the blows. Other times, I am not as lucky and am left really feeling sad. When I am stuck in that level of self-defeat, it is very difficult to have any hope that my body will change. Hate and anger start welling up and progressively replace (or possible disguise) the despair. At this time, it is very easy for me to increase the intensity of my work out by endeavoring to lift weights that are far too heavy or engage in cardio-vascular activity for a longer period of time. I am caught in this hate that aggressively wants to punish my body for not conforming to the physical prescripts I expect.

Can anyone relate? I would really like to know.

Stay well, MBI

The Mirror

2008-05-22T17:38:00.001-07:00

There are many times that looking in the mirror is still quite difficult. I can’t always tolerate what is being reflected. Too confront my image, I must sometimes squint so that I am not seeing everything as it is – so clear. By squinting, I obscure the reflection and can consequently tolerate a bit more of my body. Mirror issues stem back to my early twenties, when I was able to bare my facial image but could not look at my body. I was angry that all the exercise and dieting I did, never seemed to get my body as toned and muscular as I wanted. My being fat during childhood and early adolescence truly impacted my physical development. I stewed over the thought that my skin would never be as taut as I would like. I felt and still feel in some way lesser than (the other). The feelings I had about seeing the reflection of my body, slowly enveloped the images of my face as my hair progressively got thinner. Anger and sadness were mixed in one poisonous concoction as I pined over my hair loss. I felt that my facial image was suffering the same fate allotted to my body image – all was a horror. There were many months when I would have to cover mirrors in my apartment so that I would not spend time being cruel to myself in front of them. It worked for some time, but not many. I had this underlying urge to be cruel and face the immense sadness and anger that welled up inside me as I looked at my image.

I remember one moment – when I was six or seven – looking at my body in a mirror after having taken a bath and really liking what I saw. I was skinny and nicely tanned. I was excited at seeing my brown wavy hair and my young lean body. Maybe the years of separation between that moment and the present have skewed my reflection a bit, but my holding on to the memory is very important. That recollection is one of the rare moments that I looked in a mirror and was happy with what I looked like. Yes, there have been instances during my adult life (the present) when I have been content with how I look, but I never experienced the same elation that I experienced long ago.

Can anyone relate? Please let me know.
Stay well, MBI

An Introduction

2008-05-20T19:04:00.000-07:00

I hope this web-source will be utilized to chronicle the male body experience.
Men are not often given the opportunity to share openly (and anonymously) their body issues or the feelings that may be stirred around weight, muscularity, hair loss, penis anxiety, food, exercise, and general appearance. Society has indoctrinated men to believe that overt body concerns mask feminine like sentiments. An overall fear of being stigmatized has kept many men silent about disclosing the various body issues they experience.

Research suggests that men in fact do have body image issues and concerns. It is therefore important and relevant to provide this venue for men to share their thoughts and feelings about their bodies. I want this to be a channel that men from all creeds (gay and straight) would use to relate to one another on one vitally important and poorly understood subject - the male body experience. We have all come to relate to our bodies in different ways based on what we have been taught by our families, peers, lovers, the media, and different facets of greater society. Each body has come to reflect not only its corporeal composition, but also the lessons – both good and bad – that have been experienced and internalized along the way. I believe sharing our “body” thoughts will make an important impact on each contributor’s life and would further enrich society’s understanding of the male body experience

Throughout this blogging process, I will aspire to contribute my own feelings and experiences as I continue to muddle through body image issues. I will also add articles and excerpts on body topics that I believe to be relevant to our discussions.

Let me start with a bit of an introduction. I am a thirty something year old gay man and know the body image topic quite well. Not only am I developing an expertise in it because of my academic and professional endeavors, but I have struggled in various points of my life with weight gain, weight loss, muscle size, hair loss, anorexia, exercise bulimia, chewing and spitting, and general attractiveness. I know. . . the list is long – but I hope not intimidating. Some of the issues continue to persist – but thankfully to a lesser degree then in the past.

Can you relate to any of the above? I would really like to "hear" from you.

Stay well, MBI