- A realistic respect for or favourable impression of oneself; self-respect.
Has anybody seen my self-esteem?
Last seen around July 2016.
Belonged to a girl about 5’6”, size 8, usually wearing a cute dress, full fringe, lashings of black eyeliner and generally happy looking.
No, I’ve not seen her either. She’s been missing for a while now.
When self-esteem disappears, where does it go? Is it gradual? Or is it there one day and gone the next?
I can pinpoint why mine started to disappeared. It went when my toes started to deform. When toes are bent due to dactylitis, like mine are, shoes don’t fit. Initially I could still wear a variety of flat shoes and boots. Loafers, sneakers, pretty pumps, these kinds of things. Shoes that I would happily wear with dresses. But as my toes started to become worse, I could no longer wear these shoes. A brand-new pair of Adidas Gazelles, bought in April 2016, didn’t fit by the June. My beloved and battered Fred Perry pumps were so tight on my new feet they would bring me to tears. I had no choice but to buy skechers. A brand and a shoe type I wouldn’t have given a second thought about before. But now they were the only thing that would fit (aside from my running trainers, but I was far too much of an emotional wreck initially to wear anything that reminded me of running). So, with black flat chunky skechers, suddenly my style changed.
My vast array of dresses got put to the back of the wardrobe. Why? Because not only was it easier and less painful to wear trousers and not tights (I live in NE Scotland after all, bare legs are for the foolish), I simply didn’t have any shoes to wear with them. Everything I wore suddenly revolved around the same, elasticated pair of black trousers, which I am still wearing today. Shirts for work, sweaters for home. Repeat until the end of time. My style of dress, which I so closely associated with my sense of femininity changed overnight.
All of my shoes and boots that didn’t fit got put in to the attic. I.e., every singly pair. If I couldn’t see them, they couldn’t make me cry. I have on many occasions walked in to a shop and gone to try shoes on. Believing that one pair will fit. Maybe a wide fit pair of pretty ballerinas? A pair of sandals for holiday? The answer every time is no. I have cried in shops more times than I care to admit to. So truly upset that not only do shoes not fit, that the majority of people would have no idea why. That when I say to people how upsetting it is, that they think I’m being petty.
But it wasn’t just how I dressed that changed. My style generally became more relaxed. And with that, so did my approach to personal care. I no longer wore my contact lenses, opting instead to wear my glasses because it meant that I didn’t have to bother wearing make-up and could just hide behind them. I stopped having my fringe cut in, choosing instead just to scrape my hair back every day. All of this coupled with a two-stone weight gain has led me to barely recognising myself anymore. The irony being that I had higher self esteem when I was covered head to toe in psoriasis.
Same person but two very different people. Just 2 and a bit years apart, but worlds apart. (*must not cry looking at photo 1*)
Why should I make an effort? I wasn’t worth any effort. I’m still not sure how much of me is worth an effort.
My self-esteem became pretty darn low.
But why has my physical appearance had such an impact on my all-round self-esteem? Is it really a reason why I retreat further and further in to my shell with each passing month?
Why is my self-esteem so closely linked to how I look? If I had never had arthritis would I have continued to care for my appearance and I would have still had great self-esteem? Is it as easy as that?
I have my fair share of faults and flaws but I like to think as a person I’m pretty ok. I’m kind (although don’t tell anybody this, I have a reputation to uphold), I’m fairly affable and I like to think I’m the funniest person most people will ever meet.
Yet when I think of my own self-esteem I don’t think of these things, I see only what I perceive as negatives. Shy, reserved, fewer friends than I have unbent toes, a constant feeling of being left behind in life which surely must be my fault. Never feeling good enough, always feeling a burden. One of the biggest problems for me is a constant need for reassurance. I can never do things right. I spend most of my time locked away in my flat, not having the confidence to do anything. On a Monday morning, work colleagues no longer ask what I did at the weekend because they already know the answer.
One of my most favourite people in the entire world has a cripplingly low self-esteem. I have tried on many occasions to tell him that I think he is awesome, but I know it’s not as easy as that. And if it was, why can I not listen to my own advice? Why can we never see ourselves through someone elses eyes?
I have a postcard at home (which will eventually be framed, probably when I get round to it in 45 years time) that says “Love yourself as your cat loves you” and this should be my new mantra because Mo adores me. She loves me when I’m happy, when I’m sad, when I haven’t washed my hair for 5 days, when I’m anxious and well, she loves me no matter what. Apart from when I refuse to give her an extra serving of dreamies.
The internet is awash with people advocating ‘self-care’ but how effective is self-care when self-esteem is so low? Especially when self-care varies so much from person to person. The internet is also a reason why people, and probably myself included to some extent, have such issues. I spend a good 90% of my time at work aimlessly scrolling through Instagram, seeing everybody else’s great lives, but we all know of course that this is merely what the person wants you to see.
I have no real conclusion to this entry. It’s still something that I am trying to get my head around. My arthritis has changed so much for me physically and it continues to change me as a person. It continues to challenge who I think I am, to question my own self-worth and happiness, it continues to push me to my limits. Even now, 7 months in to cosentyx, 7 months of living an almost ‘normal’ physical existence, why does my arthritis continue to have such a hold on me?
Please somebody else with chronic illness tell me that this will get better? Or if it doesn’t, please tell me I will be ok.
When did life become so difficult?
But, as always, it’s not all doom and gloom.
I am due, at some point in the future, to have the surgery to straighten my toes. But of the three toes that I desperately need doing, I have so far only been approved for surgery on the one. I am forever hopeful that my surgeon will give the green light to have all of them done at the same time. I won’t know until my final consultation if the operation will allow or prevent me from wearing heels ever again. But I’m honestly ok with not. I wasn’t a prolific wearer of them pre-arthritis, and really, I just want to wear some pretty flats. I never want to wear those black skechers to a wedding (least of all my own) ever again.
In fact, the first thing I’ll do post-surgery?
Burn the shoes.