There is a magnificent quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson titled, Success. I found it many moons ago, had it printed and laminated, then stuck on the toilet wall for my children to read and absorb. Now the mirror to success is failure. And it is so easy to fear failure.
In April 2012 I was 46 years old. I’d battled weight my entire life and I was tired. All the weight I’d previously lost was back on – again. All the tricks I’d used before were failing. I tried eating less, exercising more, eating more, exercising less. Shakes and weird shit and anything I could think of. I was still fat and getting fatter. So in tears and desperation, I made an appointment to see an obesity surgeon on a Thursday. He had a cancellation the following Monday. I booked in, had a gastric lap band fitted, and changed my life.
As I entered into the big wide world of adulthood, I blossomed as best I could with my strengths and pretended as only I knew how I had no problems. I was blissfully ignorant of the depression, anxiety and eating disorder I was developing.
How often do we say it? How often does someone ask, “How are you?” Barely a day goes past without these social niceties. The attendant at the service station, the telemarketer on the telephone, colleagues at work, friends on Facebook, my kids, husband, father.
At a support group last year, however, one lovely lady mentioned something I’d never been told before. Something I’d never considered. You’re bingeing because you restrict, she said. I thought that was hilarious.
Me? I was born with a chubby foot in my mouth. And it seems I’m a slow learner. The reason I journal and blog, and became increasingly shy, quiet and retiring over the decades, is I really suck at the spoken word. It takes me ages to formulate what to say. I’m not quick off the mark with rapid repartee, then can’t process conversations and respond appropriately in a timely and intelligent fashion.
I believe my bodyguard is Coco. He is a cat. A beautiful, loving, devoted cat who considers himself human. He is intelligent and devoted and loyal. He loves without condition and demonstrates self-care without an ounce of regret or indecision.
It is absolutely true that many people who commence recovery – from anything – progress at a faster rate. They make changes and those changes stick, perhaps with some small relapses, but a fairly linear recovery process. That’s awesome – I wish I was one of those people! But I’m not…
When I’m not going forward in recovery, I’m perfectly happy to accept sideways. Because moving sideways is not going backwards.
Well, ladies and gentlemen – and those who do not confidently or comfortably fit into traditional categories – my thanks and gratitude […]
To eat or not to eat. That is the question.Choose. To write or not to write.Choose. Work. Sleep. Play.Choose. Delivered unscathed from the maternal womb. […]
Everything we do in life, we do because it’s the thing we want to do the most at the time. When I choose to binge or purge, at the moment in time it is preferable to being healthy. I’m getting something out of it – numbing my emotions, punishing myself, weight control. There’s always something that feels like a positive – a backhanded false positive.
I feel like I’m barely holding on at the moment. Clinging on with my fingernails to whatever I can. I am exhausted. […]
If the universe was reasonable, it would allow me to “fully recover” before throwing curve balls in my direction. Unfortunately the universe […]
As soon as I make a little bit of progress – and find a few moments of hope and belief – I seem determined to crash and burn, just to prove to myself recovery is either impossible, or impossibly difficult.
