It’s taken me a while to think of a title for this post. I feel like, particularly recently, my head space is in up and down, mostly negative states, but also very revealing–So much clarity. This is where I’m at though. I can’t deny that. This is a massive part of my journey. In fact, the most important part, and I’ve been struggling deeply with this pain. I don’t particularly have any friends named George, but I wanted the title to at least present as a little more positive than the rest of the post, so I decided to give my “emotional pain” a name. George is a good name.
This has been a time of serious grief, sadness and overall pain for me; not just for the major events I’ve just faced, but a lifetime of heartache that I haven’t allowed myself the opportunity to really grieve or work through without tearing myself down in the process. I’ve placed so much shame and unworthiness on myself. Instead of knowing how to parent myself through chaotic events, I allowed a side of me, an enabler, to grow stronger. If it felt bad, my enabler would say, “it’s okay, have that piece of pizza or cheesecake, smoke that cigarette or have those 3 or 4 glasses of wine.” How cunning this enabler became.
I’ve had weight issues most of my life. Although I was a thin and athletic as a child, the weight problems started while my mother was in and out of the hospital going through cancer treatments. I guess I was around 10 or 11 when it became noticeable. I was just a little chubbier than the other girls. I was 12 years old when she died. I remember people bringing casserole after casserole to our house. Our fridge overflowed with them. From out of these events my addiction to food was born. I’ve spiraled between thin and fat (mostly fat) ever since. I don’t think I’ve even recognized myself in a mirror, or in pictures (and those are the worst at giving you a reality check), in 10 or 15 years, maybe more.
Throughout that time more life-altering events occurred–hard, heartbreaking events, and George got fed. George grew stronger and gorged himself whenever possible, and my addiction festered. What a lie, a joke I played on myself for so long. As if food was my comforting friend and my fat a wall of protection from everyone around me. What cruel deceivers.
I suffered what I believed to be a fairly major rejection this past week, but one that I needed to happen, and the timing of it was quite perfect. Honestly, I set myself up for it, likely intentionally. I’ve noticed I tend to do that when things in my life are askew, which is all the time. I basically acted like a complete, desperate jackass. I always created an awkward atmosphere around this particular person, which had more to do with everything I’ve been going through; but, it wasn’t something I ever communicated to him. I know my awkwardness made him uneasy. Luckily, the rejection forcefully knocked me back into reality. Though it was a crushing blow to my fragile ego and amplified George’s existence, it ultimately was the exact thing I needed to push me into recovery. I’m not saying I’m cured or have it all figured out, but for me, the past week or so has meant 10 thousand steps in the right direction–extremely painful, yes, but necessary. Adversity truly is our greatest teacher. Everything in life is Teacher, remember that!