Dysmorphia and/or Dysphoria

I have big feet. BIG. I was a size 9 when I needed to be sexy in my heels, a size 10 after pregnancy and standing on my feet 40 hours a week, and now I wear clown shoes, size 11.  I have to if I don’t want  my toes to  be black and blue.   My siblings called me “Tubby Toes”, hitting both my shoe size and my weight. In 1975, for about 2 seconds I weighed 127 pounds and was a size 8. My weight is pretty steady now, but varied a lot when I was younger. No matter what the scale said, I was “fat”. This disconnect between the reality of my body and how I see and feel about it. is called body dysmorphia :a mental illness characterized by obsessive focus on a perceived flaw in appearance. Think being anorexic and looking in the mirror and “seeing” yourself at 300 pounds. That tiny pimple on you chin is Mt. Vesuvius spewing hot lava. Ew! This is a common fear of teenagers who then can’t stop looking at it or think about popping it. Maybe teenage  angst never really goes away it just becomes adult and elder angst.

I’m an either/or person: I’m  beautiful, or I’m very ugly; I’m smart, or I’m  pretty dumb. Dysmorphia is an “exaggerated  perception” i.e. I’m worthless, I’m lazy, I’m unloveable, I’m a failure. Oh my! As I age, I’ve learned to soften some expectations, judgements and certainties. I’m not 100 % sure of anything!  Except…I hate Donald Trump 100%. I am 100% sure that he has no redeeming qualities. It seems I have no power to wrestle myself out of this pathological certainty, so I pray for help. Really. 

Beyond my Trump “ blindness”, I am willing and sometimes able to look at how I may suffer from dysmorphia.  I know my eyes “see”, so why am I stuck in front of funhouse mirrors? I can correct my vision, but how can I make sure that my brain “sees” correctly? Social scientists have theorized that we often see what we want to see, and most of us know this to be true. Our brains can trick us and deceive us, so maintaining objectivity is difficult. Thats where dysphoria comes in; dys·pho·ria: a state of feeling unwell or unhappy. If I am feeling unhappy I want validation for my mood. I’m unhappy because I’m ugly and stupid, and because I’m stupid and ugly I am feeling unhappy. Are you still with me? Kinda like the chicken or the egg question. 

When I was a young woman I was diagnosed with dysthymia: a milder, but long lasting form of depression which may have episodes of major depression.  Do I see what I want to see? Is what I think more important that what my eyes are seeing? How dysfunctional am I? What does it feel like to not be depressed?

 The Greek prefix “dys” means, “ bad, difficult and painful”. My conclusion: if a word begins with “dys” I don’t want it!