There are days when things feel relatively good, comfortable and natural. Then there are the days where feeling even okay with self-image isn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world. When I’m overly tired (last night, for example, I stayed up long after I was tired and then had trouble falling asleep; I ended up taking a sleeping pill and now I’m struggling just to keep my eyes open - I haven’t even thought about work), well, it’s more of a struggle than I would like it to be - even after 2 cups of coffee.
Part of the issue these days has to do with work; one of my writing gigs involves posting into weight-lifting forums where everyone is hardcore about training and discussing options like E-C-A stacks and clenbuterol as a way of burning through body fat to show off the muscle they’re building; steroids are a common discussion. And even though many people are focused on bulking, the body image issues that were so strong for me in the past are echoed time and time again.
Reading about what weightlifters call cutting - along with regular debates about the best way to lose weight - reminds me of the way that I used to live my life. During my last serious relapse, which was before the FDA banned ephedra, I developed a little bit of a habit: despite having had a hear attack 9 years before, I was exceeding the “recommended” dosage, not eating and working out - and then I tended to take it a step further, adding sudafed to the mix (I’m mildly surprised that my heart didn’t quit). While I’m reading through posts, looking for the right moment to comment, it sometimes leaves me aching a bit.
There are men and women who all have the same goals - whether it’s to lose body fat, build muscle or a combination of the two - and yet, while there are some who are naturals (who build their physiques without chemical enhancers), the majority of them have created a life based on smoke and mirrors, on illusion and dreams.
I’m a proponent of dreaming and of following one’s dreams - I just think that when one’s dreams are all about physical experience, they aren’t really something that can be believed in. While reading these message boards, the reality is that, well, I can see how close to the edge so many of the posters are - and maybe it’s only because I’ve fallen over that edge a few times.
Now, I’m not saying that everyone who is obsessed with bulking up their muscle mass is eating disordered. I’m not saying that I’m necessarily triggered by it per se. What I guess I am saying is that I think it’s tragic that so many of us - from so many different walks of life - are obsessed with self-image and appearance.
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