2/07/2022
THIS POST CONTAINS DISCUSSION ABOUT BODY IMAGE
My body is a temple. I was crafted by God in His own image; I’m not just a collection of cells but heart, body and soul. I am a blessed creation. I’ve never doubted these things, but in dark moments it feels like life is slipping through my fingers, and while my heart and soul are eternally kept, I get distracted by the body that, over the past fourteen years, has malfunctioned. This has meant fourteen years of treatment - for which I am grateful - manifesting in things like therapy and hospitalisation, but most consistently in prescription medications. These are a double-edged sword: life changing, both positively and negatively. While I know this is all a part of a grand plan, and spiritually for the best, I often struggle with what is immediately in front of me in an imperfect world.
I’ve talked a lot in the past about medication side effects and how physically uncomfortable they can be. I have often been prescribed extra medication to counter those side effects which even then, has its own side effects. While anti-depressants lessen my depression, certain side effects can dull that improvement because of how much they negatively influence my life. Mood-balancing medications that control my anxiety are wonderful but managing the side effects of these medications can sometimes produce its own anxiety. There are many side effects that I’ve dealt with over time, but the most debilitating are those that physically affect my body, and as a result, the way I see myself.
Being uncomfortable with my body working in this way results in an underlying anxiety. It’s the powerlessness, the helplessness, the feeling that no matter what I do, I can’t call my body my own. My medication has affected my weight, my skin, my teeth, my hair. I’ve been to multiple specialists over the years to treat the havoc that these medications have wrought upon my body. Sometimes it is like I’m watching myself from the outside, not living life but having it happen to me. I’m supposed to love my body. It’s a gift. Yet since I was a teenager it’s been a complicated relationship.
The most obvious bodily change due to medication is the variance in my weight. I was a very petite child and teenager due to being a ballet dancer for eleven years. When I was sixteen I was first put on anti-psychotics, and things began to change. When I was eighteen I was put on anti-depressants and those changes sped up, and I was suddenly aware that my body was different.
Cut to the age of twenty-one, and my medications suddenly increased three-fold. After a couple of years I was on seven medications every day. When this first happened my weight shot up. I got upset because I felt uncomfortable; things didn’t fit; I suddenly looked different in photos; I didn’t recognize what I saw. I felt self-conscious and my self-esteem deteriorated. I stopped looking in the mirror. It didn’t stay this way; it has gone the other way too, with sudden weight loss that is discombobulating. Changes in medication mean my weight has been consistently inconsistent over the last fourteen years. I’ve yo-yo-d up and down depending on what I am prescribed. My self-image constantly changed. I felt confident, then I didn’t. These don’t just produce negative feelings mentally, but physically as well. My energy levels fluctuate. The sedatives I take make me tired. Sudden weight changes are exhausting. It’s been a battle.
Other physical changes, like those to my skin, hair and teeth, are less obvious, but take their own toll. For example, being on a large amount of medication has softened the enamel of my teeth. As a result they break down a lot easier than is normal, and I’ve spent a lot of time in the dentist’s chair, spending thousands on root canals and general reconstruction. They are ship-shape now, but it’s been a saga. It all comes down to the medication. So why, why do I consent to taking these medications?
The answer is that because of the combined treatments I have been privileged enough to receive, I want to live. I want to live fully, and wondrously, and faithfully, and completely. Sometimes I have wondered if it’s worth it, yes. I feel uncomfortable, and sometimes I am upset by what I see and all the ways I feel things slip out of my grasp. But I want to live. I handle the changes better now than I did all those years ago; while I’m frustrated I don’t get that visceral anger. My body is something to be respected and by treating myself with respect I feel better. We have all heard the phrase ‘My body is a temple’, which originates from the Bible and is very much the truth. When thinking about all my body withstands and how much I’ve grown, I can’t help but be grateful, because I know that it is precious, and so am I.
This doesn’t just lie in being able to successfully walk and talk. The joy of having faith is always present, but it is in times like these I feel its providence even more keenly. There is more to me than the imperfect body I live in; I feel that to suggest otherwise would be reductive and depressing; the thought of merely being a creature in a random universe grieves my heart, and every atom of me disbelieves it. I was given a spirit, and it is at peace.
Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him. For God's temple is holy, and you are that temple. 1 Corinthians 3 (English Standard Version Bible)
