March 13, 2015

I’m not sure what to do any more. What I want.

For years I said I wanted to have the recovery that B has. I wanted to enjoy food and have freedom with my food and be relaxed about my body. Or at least accepting it. And that’s what I tried to do. That’s what I was working for, that’s what I spent years trying to achieve, that was what I held onto while I was in a bigger body and not changing my food or exercise.

But it never got better. And I’m worried it never will. What if I left one thing out of the puzzle..

What if there’s something different about me? What if the way I am with my body, my fear and my feelings around it are SO much more intense and ingrained than others? What if this is too deeply entrenched? What if my history, my family, all the generations that came before me, make this problem too big, too difficult, too complicated and challenging for anyone to stick around with long enough to work through with me?

“I am the ONLY one who has to do the work, who has to be in relationship to this problem.”

I am the only one who has to do the work, who has to be in relationship to this problem. Everyone else gets to leave when they have had enough, when they are worn out, frustrated, tired, unable to get enough distance, struggling to find a position in relation to the problem. But what about me?

Its not so simple for me. I don’t get to just walk away. I don’t have the choice to just end the relationship, to pull back, to distance myself, or cut-off.

“Everyone else gets to leave when they have had enough, when they are unable to get enough distance, struggling to find a position in relation to the problem.”

I know I have a choice to recover, but the choice to recover requires WORK, EFFORT, and incredible strength, perseverance and tenacity. Its not just one choice, recovery is a billion choices. It requires me to make the choice thousands of times a day.

“It’s hard to keep making that choice when everyone else around you continues to chose to leave you.”

It’s hard to keep making that choice when everyone else around you continues to chose to leave you. How does someone find the strength, the motivation, to keep running a race, when the coach, the trainer, the supporter, the fans, and the crowd are all gone? When the finish line is no where in sight, and when the runner has already been running for miles and miles and miles. The body aches, there is no promise that the end is close, and as his body begins to fatigue, his pace slows down. He begins to doubt himself and worry if he will make it. When normally the cheers from the crowd, the inspiring words from his coach, would help pull him through, all he hears now is silence. The crowd has left. The coach has given up. What does he do?

I feel like that runner or like a captain of a ship in the middle of the ocean fighting another storm. All the crewmen have abandoned the ship, taken with them all the life preservers, life vests, and life boats. As the captain, I have no choice, I am forced to stay with this ship and face the storm. Even if the ship sinks, I have been left with NOTHING.

“No matter how much effort I put into saving this ship, or how great of a swimmer I am, without a crew and without the right supplies, I have no chance. I will go down. I may bob for a while, but ultimately, the ocean will overcome me, and I will drown.”

They all had a choice. They got to save themselves.

I didn’t. This wasn’t my choice.