Big Belly

I watched the photos made in a photo booth during the company event. And I was alarmed seeing my... belly. I am not thin or fit, mostly because of my age and thyroid disease, but it looked enormously big under my dress, way too big than it should be. What is worse, it's got even bigger since the party like a balloon. This comparison is justified, for, underneath my tightened skin, there is mostly air. It's not aching though I feel discomfort. And, for a long time, I didn't know what is the cause. 

I was in this embarrassing situation before, to be more exact - five years ago and more, but back then, I thought it was related to my current problems at work with an awful boss (and not only him). I was wrong - these events had been only reminding me of something I wanted to forget about, something that caused that I cannot breathe so I am desperately trying to inhale some air into my lungs. I am inhaling and inhaling yet I still feel that I am suffocating so I am catching more air and, as a result, it is also in my stomach and in my enlarging abdomen. My breaths are short but more frequent, but muscles are not oxygenated properly hence I am tired and more stressed.

The cause of my short breaths is fear - just as of most of my problems. I am afraid of being judged and punished for my 'sins' and the judge and the executioner in the same person was my mother. There were other people later on but she was scaring me the most. You cannot imagine how cruel young woman can be for a little girl and how unjust. First, my guilts were in most cases only in her imagination (and even if not she had no right to abuse me in any way). Second, I never had a person who could take my side, who could be my advocate; oh, on the contrary - she had a lot of helpers in her cruelty around her just as she has them today. 

Honestly, I have no idea how to cope with this problem. I cannot give myself a guarantee that, once the circumstances are changed, I won't be afraid of confrontation and that I won't recreate this sequence once more. This is a complicated case, for, as I wrote last time, this fear is not only because of the possibility of being hurt but also because of my own anger. I am simply afraid of my anger. It scares me so much just as the anger of my mother scared me a long time ago. My feelings are terrifying and I haven't learned how to accept they are part of me and, in many situations, they are justified.