Self-Loathing Olympics…..

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Self-Loathing Olympics…..

Ten minutes into my starvation-laxative diet and I’m already hungry. Relax, I know eating disorders are real and debilitating….this is how I jokingly deal with trying to fit into a dress. We have a wedding to attend in 3 weeks and I’m in the “oh-shit-what-will-I-wear” phase. I already visited “oh-shit-what-will-my-kids-wear” and I’ll be circling back to that if Zappos doesn’t pull through. My husband will wear one of the two suits that he owns because, unlike me that bastard  guy can still fit into clothes from ten years ago. My biggest concern for him is that he gives me the correct shirt to take to the dry cleaners.

For those that aren’t familiar or have a different experience, fitting rooms are not kind to a lot of us. The lighting is harsh, you feel like someone’s watching you (they are) and you are in a closet box with strangers for neighbors, so sobbing loudly and cursing is frowned upon (ask me how I know). Trying on dresses, bathing suits and jeans could all be distinct categories in the self-loathing Olympics. I just made that up, but that needs to happen.

I know a lot of ladies like to shop. I’m not one of them. In fact, I fantasized about having a root canal when I was trying on the second round of dresses. First world problem indeed but there you go. In my quest to find a dress I thought about how this process was similar to the grieving process.

In 1969, Elisabeth Kubler-Ross introduced the five stages of grief in her book On Death and Dying. The stages include: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. This is widely known for grief and grieving.  In all seriousness I have seen the stages in action in my hospice work. This post isn’t about that so just humor me for a moment.

5 Stages of Dress Shopping:

Denial – Oh surely I have something in my closet that I can fit into (wrong). Maybe I can wear sequins (you can’t).

Anger – This is all internal dialogue because, dressing room neighbors. G-damn it how did I get so fat?! I’ve worked out 3 to 4 times a week for over 30 years WTAF. Geezus.

Bargaining – Sends photo text to friend…”Am I too fat and old to pull this off?” Replies “The boobs look good” (see how she avoided answering directly, smooth). Wonder if I can suck my gut in for 9 hours continuously….probably not since I can barely hold a plank for 60 seconds.

Depression – I cry but only on the inside because, dressing room neighbors. I used to be so skinny….I was also 5 years old once.

Acceptance – Well the one dress looks less awful than the rest, I suppose I’ll get it. Determines that Spanx and a lack of sugar might help me shimmy into it in three weeks.

At one point I actually got stuck in a dress I was trying on. I shit you not, really happened. I was having panicked thoughts like – OMG what if someone has to help me get out of this. That’s it, this is ridiculous, I will rip it off like a bear and just buy this stupid f*cking dress and go home. I am going to die with half this dress on with fully exposed muffin top, unattractive underwear and white socks, so hot. I will be on the evening news, my family will have to move after my funeral. Damn it.

 

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