Back in Action

Well, I'm trying at least. I'll probably have a purge-style post soon that will showcase all miscellaneous photos on my card that I want to show as well as a stream of consciousness rambling to explain the day-to-day banalities that you have missed out on for the last 2 weeks. I know you are all on pins and needles waiting for that one.
We took these on Sunday at Nana's request because she said, and I quote, that the family picture she had of us was "terrible", "awful", and "unattractive." Hmm. Although I do not necessarily disagree, short of liposuction, Lap-band surgery or drastic photo-shopping, there's not much that can be done at least immediately, since I am the detracting subject matter. Since I haven't employed any of the aforementioned drastic measures, we just gussied ourselves up for church in coordinating clothes and took these afterwards. They turned out reasonably well. Unfortunately I also decided to try my hair a new (and apparently scary) way for said pictures. I hope these ones meet Nana's critical standards, or she may have to wait a year for a family picture featuring a new-and-improved Jessie.
(In her defense, I think Nana was merely displeased with her poorly-printed photo that was on regular computer paper that they printed and then cut to size. I think. It wasn't really clear.)
There might be better ones of Bella, but they feature many more chins for me, so they will remain archived on my computer for now. Of course I need to pick the most flattering one of myself. Self-preservation and all.
Viewing these photos was one of those acute moments of painful realization and reckoning. (Some of you are familiar with this, I'm sure-) You think you know how bad it's gotten (say, a weight problem or some such thing...) and although you are not pleased with your current state, you have come to terms with it, at least for the time being. You feel like you have an accurate picture of the person you are presenting to the world. You know what you are, where you stand, for good or for ill. Then you see a picture that clarifies that image all too harshly and you think, "Wait-what? Is this for real?" Then your mind tries to rearrange the reality that you thought you were living- you view yourself as everyone else has apparently been seeing you and wonder how you could be so ignorant, and how no one could tell you, set you straight. You feel shame and embarrassment that this is the picture, the person you have been unwittingly placing on display for the general public, whether they want to see it or not. (Most likely not-) Your mind reels, dissecting every social encounter and viewing yourself in a more accurate, and unflattering light. Suddenly you wonder why said public and social individuals have tolerated your company other than for a new-found appreciation for themselves when compared to your sad state.
Sigh.
So this is what it has come to. How did I let this happen? Why is it so hard to change?
The funny thing is, I don't feel like a fat person. In my mind, I look like I have at my best- that is the person I see myself as. The problem is, other people don't see that. My friends in North Carolina don't have a better frame of reference to compare me to- one that I feel is so critical for me to remember so that I know is attainable. And my clothes definitely don't see me that way- they hang in crowded silence, each garment relying on each other for the hope that they will be worn again some day. Soon.
I realize if you don't know me very well, it could be hard to detect my dry and self-deprecating tone, but I promise it's there. I can find humor even in the ugliest of situations and it helps me to clear my mind by writing it all out. Accounting for it. So there we have it.
Please notice the label- No need to comment.
Also- it's worse than these pictures would lead one to believe. I'm not masochistic enough to publish the truly hideous, though more accurate ones. So there.
Quiet.