Friday, June 21, 2013

Addicted

There's a blog post from The Practice that I referenced the other day in my writing. It's called "Sabotage," and it reads like the story of my life. Here's the link if you're interested => http://gopractice.biz/2013/05/sabotage/

I've talked about my issues with food countless times; it makes me feel like a drug addict. The unfortunate thing about food is that you can't just give it up like cigarettes, pills or drugs--those things can't be "used responsibly" under any circumstances. Food is inevitable. And it is, without a doubt, my drug of choice. I stress about it, think about it, fight off the urge to eat like shit. Food shouldn't have to be a constant battle, but it is for me. I can go days, weeks, sometimes months and maintain good habits. I can take the boys out for ice cream and just sit there and watch them eat it without even flinching. On those days it feels like will-power is my middle name; I can flex it like a muscle and show it off to the world. But it only takes one moment of weakness, one lick of a Snickers bar is enough to send me careening headfirst over the edge where I wake up in a pile of wrappers with no recollection of how I got there or why the fuck I did that. And every time I get mad, and my clothes don't fit right, and I'm puffy, and I feel ashamed, and I hate myself, and I have to start all over again.

I just get so tired of the internal battle. I work so hard, and even though things may be changing on the outside I still feel the same on the inside so I start thinking "what the hell is the point." For once in my life I want to wake up, look in the mirror, and feel good about what I see for more than just a moment before I start judging. I want to be proud of myself for how far I've come instead of comparing my journey to someone else's. I want to see the positive changes instead of overanalyzing every flaw. I want a healthy mental image instead of continuing to see myself as my former fat self, and I wonder after almost 3 years now if that will ever happen. I want to be comfortable in my own skin. I want to stop being so self-conscious that I critique myself 12 times every time I see a mirror and gauge every single fucking outfit based on "how fat I look." I want to believe the things I tell Brittany about having a positive self image. I want to stop having days where I wonder why my fiancé is even with me. I want to see myself the way so many other people seem to, but to be quite frank I just don't know how anyone can like me when I'm not even happy with myself about 95% of the time. I have deemed myself unworthy far more times than anyone else has counted me out. How can you even begin to succeed when your own worst enemy is yourself?

At this point the only solution I can come up with is as simple as just keep trying. Again, I defer to the post about self-sabotage, and how at the root it is all about the identity we are most comfortable with. Once I stripped away over 100 lbs I lost my shield; somehow (without gaining the weight back) I've managed to continue to use food as my comfort and my crutch, and that addiction is still the reason why I am not yet who I want to be. It gives me something else to blame besides myself for my imperfections. I don't know if any amount of weight lost would necessarily make me happier. In reality I don't think it has anything to do with the number on the scale. I think the issue is mental and emotional, and maybe I'm just afraid that no matter what I do it isn't going to be enough. It's like JB says,
"Familiar discomfort is better than the possibility of unknown pain. Even though that pain may never come."

But nothing changes if nothing changes.

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