Connecting the Dots

Aren’t we all asking the same kinds of questions to ourselves? Who Am I? What do I want for and from my life? How can I get it? Why have some things not worked out? What am I supposed to be learning from this failure, success, tragedy, loss? We all ask the same things, day in and day out. What makes the most sense to you? This is the question that you should be asking.

I have done some serious soul searching since I began this journey to find myself. I didn’t like what was defined for me. I didn’t like the outcome of decisions that others had made for me. I felt like I had no choice but to accept what was being handed to me. I didn’t want to be anymore unacceptable than I already felt. So I tried over and over to please everyone but me. I knew that I should be trying to please me, but I was torn between feeling connected and accepted or selfish. I just wanted to belong. I spent a long time trying to belong. This made me sick. Sick in the way that I would sacrifice my own well being to keep others comfortable and at a distance, so that I couldn’t be truly hurt if they rejected me.

The fat, keeps people at bay. I don’t have to worry that someone will get too close, because they usually don’t. I have to work really hard at making real friends. And for this reason, I only have a handful of people who really know me at all. I have had this unconscious belief that as long as things seem the way they have always been, I won’t ever get really hurt. Rejection and un-acceptance is normal for me. What is not normal, is a compliment, genuine caring, my life without a shield. This scares the crap out of me. I have been conditioned to being let down, picked last, lonely, and self loathing. I am not used to feeling in love with myself, pride in my appearance, confidence that I am good enough. But guess what? These new feelings are becoming more and more a part of my every day.

The dots are being connected. I was a child of divorced young parents. I have suffered a great deal of loss in my life. I have been abused and traumatized. These are just facts. I have spent a lot of time wishing that this wasn’t the case, but it is. I can’t change what happened to me. I can’t change the past. I can only affect the future. If I want things to be different now, I can’t keep thinking and behaving the same way I always have. The change comes from within, because that is where the thought process is. I have to love myself, more than anyone else in my life has ever done. I have to say that I am worth all the effort to myself, and for no other reason. I can’t ignore the feelings I have always had about myself, I have to continue to find ways to change those core beliefs and accept how things are today. And today has never looked so good!

A Long Time Coming

Someone ask me recently if I have stopped blogging. I had. But I didn't want to say so. The reason? Self reflection isn't always something we want to put out in public for everyone to scrutinize. Because, since I'm being honest, I already scrutinize myself beyond reason. Why should I put myself out there for more critical review? Or even worse, sympathy.

After much deep thought about whether to pull it or continue, I decided that if this was indeed a real process, then I am going to have to be real and not hide from the truth about myself, my feelings or my physical appearance. This includes writing about where I am... where I really am on my journey.

Remember before I said that you can take your journey along side mine? I think this is part of the reason I hesitated to share my feelings, and why I have struggled to really put anything out there for over 2 months. I don't want to be a disappointment.  But the reality is, I'm scared. I have always been this way. I might appear brave, and fearless to others because I have become very good at masking my insecurity. I can fake it really well. But as a result, I have to sooth myself with rewards for good behavior. Usually some form of chocolate or a big bowl of ice cream does the trick. Then I feel guilty for making a poor choice, get down on myself and say "I'm hopeless." It's a downward spiraling vicious cycle that keeps me from being who I truly feel I am.

It feels very suffocating. Inside and out I'm trapped. Both by my emotions internally and  by my outward physical appearance. The catalyst to feeling in control is to eat. It's a full range of emotions. I have recently discovered in therapy, that I learned as a baby to equate food with happiness. As a child, I learned to hate exercise and see it as work and found no pleasure in it. These two things, coupled with abuse I endured from age 4 through adulthood, has brought me to where I am today. Not a very healthy or stable place.

It would be easy to say, I have a valid excuse for the behaviors I have created for myself. Just as easy as it is for others to tell me what I need to do to change. I know exactly what I need to do. It's about finding both internal and external motivation to keep going forward. To keep trying, even when I feel like a miserable failure. To not worry about what other people "must be thinking" of me. But most of all: To cast a side the judgment of myself for knowing better, but not acting accordingly. This is what I know,self-destruction is what I do best, it's comfortable, it's what I grown a custom to. Sabotage provides safety on many levels. What is not safe is uncharted territory. What feels out of control, is doing something I don't fully understand. Like... running. Like eating healthy. Not for pleasure or enjoyment, or because I think it will make me happy; but because my body needs the right food to function properly.

Food; a physical need, is not meant to fuel or replace an emotional need. This is equivalent to expecting a fish to live out of water. It needs water, not air. Keep forcing air, the fish dies. Keep forcing food to replace emotions, and you die too. Perhaps not immediately, but eventually something in you gives up. Emotionally, I need to fuel with happiness, love and satisfaction. Food has been my replacement for that which was severely lacking. Because I learned as a child to find happiness wherever I could.

The more progress I seem to be making, the more progress I find I need to make. But in so doing, I realize it took me 38 years to get to this point today and it might take me a long time to permanently change. That isn't a reason to give up, it's the main reason to keep going.