Saturday, December 5, 2009

Hangover

"Do the next right thing," my dietician often tells me.

The "next right thing" epiphany usually comes about 10 hours after I could've actually changed my destiny, but I guess I'll do the next right thing today.

I'm pretty sure I'm either psychic or predictable. Probably the latter. Because indeed, yesterday, I wrote, and I quote: "On a day like today, I can tell you most assuredly that those things (the list of reasons I'm a loser) are not true. Those are lies. . . I might not be able to tell you that tomorrow."

Alas tomorrow has come and as much as I wanted to say in this blog, "See I am a loser" and go on about how lousy I feel, I thought, "Hmm, self, I think we've been here before." Yes, I have. This exact feeling several other times each month. Read my blogs. A nasty, exhausting cycle, but nonetheless, there it is, written for all the world to see: I'm human.

Yesterday I was feeling whole and confident and happy. It's not that I am not those things now, but those feelings have been hidden and pushed aside under a few thousand extra calories my body didn't need and wasn't hungry for as I consumed them, trying to "control, distract, and numb" (my dietician's other mantra).

I keep a food log/journal to be held accountable for taking care of myself. As I tried to remember this morning, what I ate last night, I couldn't. I had to go up to the kitchen and look around, Oh yeah.

I imagine I'm the equivalent of a food-drunk. Hungover and wondering, What happened last night. Auto-pilot happened. I stopped living presently and existed long enough to try and forget. Instead of just dealing with the feelings, I tried to ignore them. It worked temporarily, it always does. Temporarily.

I sought auto-pilot to pretend that she doesn't hate me.
I sought auto-pilot because life was throwing situations beyond my control.
I sought auto-pilot because that sick, foolish-mind inside of me said, "Throwing up would prove a pretty strong point, don't you think?"

I'm doing the next right thing(s).

I slept in.
I'm writing a blog to let the gremlins out.
I'll talk to a friend.
I'm going to yoga.
I will forgive myself.
This is just about the hardest possible thing I can think to do today: move on with forgiveness. But I will because I have to.

I've been here before. These feelings are not new. Being uncomfortable will not kill me. This too shall pass. It always does (I'm noticing a trend. I know. Brilliant.) I'm not handing today over to the perfection that seeks to ruin me. I'm better than that. It's going to be all right.

1 comments:

Anonymous said...

Heather!

I am trying to catch up on all of your blogs, I am very proud of you. I know we weren't very close in hs, but I am here for you if you need anything at all. Stay the strong person I know you are.

Jessica Heath