A working theory of body dysmorphia

My experience through body dysmorphia

In three dances

Second: “Deceit is the second, without end”

My body changed.
At the same rate my old clothes stopped fitting my body

just the way I couldn’t wear my favorite shirt anymore
and none of my pants fit

the way people treated me changed.

People smiled more

Folks I had just met, 
hell, even old friends  
started hitting on me

The things I said seemed to be more interesting
the world was brighter

I felt seen
and valued

special

I felt strong
and unbeatable
in this new 
painless iron body

But if I didn’t train for a few weeks
the pain came back
and dragged me back to the gym

So I kept training
going to church
the weight on the bar kept rising
and I kept pushing

And when I went back home
the mirror flashed a smile back at me

I showed off
to myself, to others 
I grew shameless

I liked what I saw.
I liked how I felt.

But suddenly,
betrayal.

Perception 
like a poisoned dagger:
my vanity turned on me

The gym pump
so narcotic

You are, for a while
a bigger you, 
a better you
A mirage, in the flesh

In your own flesh.

A vision 
A promise

In my mind, 
I was that mirage

The way I looked
when I wasn’t big
paled in comparison
to my new expectations 

On the days I didn’t train
I looked weak, and fat

I felt inadequate
and small
and guilty

The mirror showed concern

A magnifying glass
of faults and hate

And the more I trained, 
the more vicious it grew

I couldn’t live up to it.
I hated my body.

But the high
made it all go away 
just for a day
I felt invincible

The pump is one hell of a drug
and I was hooked.

I could not fight it.

I needed a fix.