I have been reflecting a lot lately. This time of year always does that to me. Most people with family are so busy planning for the holidays they don’t have as much time to think as I do. I have felt very meloncholy the last few days. In fact I have been very weepy, still greiving losses from years ago, wishing some of those losses were filled with new things, and regretting the time I spent feeling sorry for myself. The feelings are there, how I act on them is still my choice. I choose to move on and stop wallowing in my pity. I spent a lot of years wallowing in my own crap. It was my crap, and it was warm, and familiar, but it was still crap and yes, it stunk!
I am still not where I want to be in my head about food. I still find myself stratigizing how I can get more “bang for my buck”. Before you get concerned, I am not falling off, I am just trying to sharpen the saw. I fear failing, because I am dangerously obese, and failing is death to me. I have to be meticulous right now. Honestly, I do not think there is any standing still in this relationship I have with food. There is and never will be an arrival. This is not like shampooing your hair; wet, rinse, repeat. Everyday is a new and different challenge. I have found that as long as I keep my head forward, and take one step at a time, all else falls in place. God puts right what I need in my path at that perfect moment. But it’s important for me to remain open to what is before me and not step over it.
For instance, yesterday I was really struggling with that cloud of sadness over me. I have been weepy for days. I got the kindest message from a former pastor offering support and encouragement, commending me for my success. This was the little nudge I needed to feel hope in the very moment I was questioning myself. It was very gracious of him, since he has seen me at my worst, when I was most bitter and resentful spewing my pain on all those around me. For someone to see hope in you when they have seen you at your worst, it a gift. I was humbled.
So I move on, in spite of my tears. I just let them fall, yet continue the commitment on this path to good health. I keep telling myself feelings are just feelings, but I do not need to act on them, just feel them.
So this comes back to my love affair with food. I believe love is a choice, whether it be food or a lover. I choose life regardless of my affection for food. It is the worst relationship I have ever been in. Food has lied to me, broke promises. Destroyed my future, and is never reliable. It has robbed me and abused me. I can not trust it’s promises. The fantasy I have in my head how it will enhance my life is all fictional. Right when I think food is going to be there to bring relief and joy, it either failed to show up, or disappoints. The short moments of pleasure it has brought have never lasted, always leaving me disappointed. Food is so demanding, it is like a jealous boyfriend everyone can see me in this self destructive relationship, but I am in denial of how critical it is, to the point of isolation and sneaking around to be with my lover, food. It demands all my attention and focus. I am exhausted, the pleasure it brings is no comparison to the destruction it creates. I see the carnage it leave behind me and many of my foodie friends. The lives it has destroyed. How it has paralyzed so many. I’ve seen relationships with food destroying marriages, like a cheating spouse or turning spouses into caretakers, robbing both of the relationship they once had. Or like in my case, isolation that went from weeks, to months, to years of missing out on life.
I will always need food in my life, but it has to take a back seat to the real prize. Life