sixteen hours alone

by zoe

last week shook me off the tight rope.

(source)
the weirdness started on wednesday. i woke up thinly veiled in sadness. i spent the majority of the day working my mind around the reasons why. nothing really came up. i got frustrated and panicky and desperate.

soo i up and drove eight some odd hours to san diego to stay the weekend with my best friend. it was a much needed get away. much.

unfortunately, i’m still sad. but. now i know why.

eight hours there and eight hours back gave me a lot of time to think and sing really loudly and really obnoxiously. something like sixteen or so hours. i thought some funny thoughts. some sorrowful thoughts. weird thoughts. insightful thoughts.

the insightful thoughts are what i want to share. i spent a lot of time working over my emotions. the full moon fucked with some energy. PMS too (you guys. i cycled up with the moon cycle. wtf?) also, recently, the urge to binge has returned. the effortlessness of the past month and a half stalled, easy happiness right along with with it. i understand happiness cannot be constant (in fact, i don’t think it should be. that’s a thought for later.). however, the lack of enthusiasm and the sinking sadness are way too familiar and kind of scare me. troublesome thoughts that kind of scare me float into my consciousness sometimes now. that tightness is back, the one where it feel like i am a step away from the edge of some terrible uncontrollable, unknown. it’s like i’m hunkering down for the next storm.

the truth is this: i did not treat myself well last week. at all. far too little movement despite my body’s asking for it. far too many indulgences. far too many “steps back”. as a result, i am jumpy, unsettled, confused, and totally scared (on top of scared and deeply frustrated).

on the ride home today, i kept thinking about my body. some days i don’t feel it, but today i felt it. i still feel it. all the extra weight. all the emotion i am holding onto. often when i think about my body, i get angry. i get sad. i get weepy reminiscent. thinking about my body always triggers the urge to binge. i am so caught up in body-hatred sometimes. it stresses me out. i am tired of thinking about my body. i am tired of keeping tabs on it. i am tired of not trusting my intuition. i am tired of being angry, of continually fighting an impossible war.

then, a follow up thought:

I AM NOT MAD AT MY BODY: I AM MAD AT WHAT I DID TO IT. WHAT I DID TO IT. I AM MAD AT MY SELF.

you guys.

this is big. (for me anyway).

my therapist likes to tell me the body is neutral, that it reacts to your actions. it didn’t do anything but listen to you. you guys, why am i fighting myself? why am i continually choosing to hurt my body and my self? quite clearly, i am holding onto my past and punishing myself. i am sad i allowed myself to gain so much weight. i’m angry i lost all any sort of control. i’m frustrated and keep taking it out on myself.

i think that, in order to move forward, i need to truly forgive myself. i need to accept that what happened, happened, that every thing i am mad at already happened and i can’t change it. not a single thing. i need to meet myself where i am, now, and not where i dream to be (i don’t know that woman’s needs because i am not that woman. i only know the woman i am, right now). really though, i need to forgive me, just like i might forgive a friend who unintentionally hurt me. i need to stop being so hard on myself and be instead unbelievably kind. it’s time i relax. release. and move on.

this is going to be hard.

namaste

zoe

(p.s: always feel free to weigh in. i am a fan of honest feedback. it’s like a different perspective i can’t see, you know?)

About these ads