Weighting Game

Illustration from an ad sponsored by Parke Davis & Co., Research Lab,
 in which caution and doctor's supervision is recommended when dieting.
"To undertake a weight-reducing program without proper medical guidance
is a foolish, and often dangerous, thing to do." (LIFE pg. 30, 5-17-1948)

To mount a scale is like seeing a roulette wheel complete its spin, complete with the agonizing arrival of its powerful and telltale reading.  As in that game, there are two forces working in opposite directions to one another, with the ball following a path antithetical to its circular dial.  In casino parlance, to wager that the two will align amidst the lowest possible numbers is to place a zero spiel, or zero play.  When I weigh myself from the mindset of an anorexic, I rely on a similar strategy.  I invest in and define myself by a numeric value, an appraisal of my soul rendered in hard digits.  Almost every morning I brace myself for this ridiculous ritual, knowing that I will conjure guilt no matter where they settle.  For I have been tasked with adding pounds to my body even as a part of me hesitates to cooperate.  I have resolved, with confirmation from all manner of doctors, friends, employers, and the like, that a better life awaits me should I adopt a minimum of eight to ten pounds to my slight frame.  For season after season I have made repeated pronouncements that this is my intention, that complications from emaciation are my primary hindrance in pursuing a more cosmopolitan, socially active livelihood in, say, southern California.  If I can be stronger, I posit, my stamina and appearance will be duly improved, facilitating work in a competitive field.  But it is with admitted relief that I continually meet the same verdict as I slide my feet from the shallow platform and proceed to dress for the day.  As I pull the clothes over myself in many layers, adopting a vaguely puffy appearance betraying my fragility, I am somewhat dejected in knowing that my allegiances to extensive exercise routines, paired with foods neither rich nor completely sound, have once again placed me within a weight class rivaling a child.  This reading, while reassuring in its familiarity, is also disturbing when examined with clear, objective eyes; it can promote a firm desire to eat well for that day (as it confirms I warrant nourishment).  Otherwise, should the scale's tiny window give an unexpected --and therefore alarming-- tally, guilt prompts that I restrict intake, usually translating into a meager table that sees merely one meal, in late-evening.  I do not enjoy such punishment, and have come to refuse its call when I know for certain I made efforts the previous day to follow a healthy regimen.  On these occasions I can declare triumph over the sort of knee-jerk, habitual, immature responses that have seen me moored, forever inert at an impregnable wall.  This continuing standstill has already cost me my youth, and with it my body's ability to rebound effectively from debilitating rounds of disciplinary deprivation.  It has also seen me fail to make achievements in either vocational or romantic directions.  I have been able to push myself towards the gradual completion of creative projects on occasion, but only by dedicating limited hours over extended, strictly allotted periods.  As far as paying work is concerned, I have never managed to realize a legitimate full-time position that can operate in tandem with the exhausting agenda of my compulsions.  My goals and my disordered predilections  are operating in reverse of each other, much like the ball running counter to its tilted track at the croupier's station.  The question remains, when might the force of clear-minded convictions overcome the momentum of intrenched, often ruinous behaviors?  I arrived only today at the largest gain, pound-wise, since the launch of these essays two months back.  It is not nearly where I need to arrive at to satisfy my target, and I do not know yet how firm its status.  But it does show that perhaps progress is possible --and even, against most odds, worth betting on.