Not so painful

Today I did something that in the past I would have described as painful. Like “I’d rather have my toenails removed with pliers” painful.

Bathing suit shopping.

Two years ago I would have preferred to shoot myself out of a cannon rather than go bathing suit shopping. Of course that was before I was diagnosed with depression and started my journey to Peace of Mind with Prozac.

To actually enjoy this jaunt to JCPenney, I had to come to a new place in my mind and heart.

First, no more negative body comments. No more “I need two bras, one to hold up my breasts and one to hold up my back flab.” No more jabs about having “dunlap disease.” (For those who haven’t heard, it’s when your stomach dun laps over your belt.) That’s right, I’m giving up the tradition of picking on myself. If there is to be peace on earth, let it begin with me.

When I feel a jab coming on, I say something positive about myself. Like “I like my hazel eyes” or “I like my thick hair.” So today when I tried on a one-piece I thought, “my legs look strong” and “emerald green flatters my olive skin tone.”

I’d like to say “thanks, prozac” but this new state of mind didn’t come by way of a pill. It was built by changing attitudes. And I’m not through yet. I’m learning that you don’t wake up one morning and POOF! the depression is gone. Some days it’s smaller. Some days it’s louder. It’s always there.

But it’s not as painful.


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