I have only been awake for three hours, but in those 180 minutes I have gone from feeling shame and regret to feeling hopeful and proud. And then shame and then hope and then regret and then pride. Back and forth. Overall I'm in a good spot right now, at this moment, but I can't help but remember how grumpy I was yesterday afternoon and evening. I was very irritable and very bitchy and very unpleasant towards myself and others. Almost in an out-of-control way. I was quick to place the blame on the time change and on the weather, but there comes a point when I have to stop blaming outside influences and take personal responsibility. So I will. And I am. And I am sorry.
Now I can move on and not dwell on my crumminess, yes? Yes, as long as I have not ignored my past behavior and can, you know, learn from it or whatevs. Whatevs! I think the swig of caffeine just kicked in. It's not like I needed the caffeine at all. I truly didn't. Today I felt like I could run forever. It was effortless and it was done without the help of caffeine. What's the deal? Why can I sometimes run to the moon and back and then the next day be struggling just to get out of bed? Anyway, my energy levels have been fairly consistent lately, my fingers have been kinda sorta not so painful, and my attitude towards food/eating is positive. Positive-ish. Depends on the day. Everything depends on the day. The day depends on the day. I'm not sure what I meant by that last sentence, but let's just pretend that it was profound.
I can't do this whole eating disorder thing anymore. I couldn't do it to begin with. Right? Or maybe ED was what I "needed" at one point in my life when I did not know how to take care of certain stressors in a healthy, wholesome way. Eating disorders are a defense mechanism. Eating disorders are a way to regain control, to have some say over one's life, to disappear from discomforts (only to, ironically, bring about many more discomforts). Eating disorders are effective, but highly destructive. Eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any mental illness. That is a fact and that is a terrifying fact. Or rather, it should be. I've ignored the seriousness of this disorder for far, far too long. I have always placed myself somewhere in the middle of eating disorder seriousness. Like, "I'm not 50 pounds, but I'm also afraid that merely the smell of bacon will make me gain weight. So... Things could be better, but things could be worse!" There has always been a "but" when I discuss my issues with ED. There shouldn't be that but. There should be a this-has-to-stop-you-are-worth-it-Meg. There should be a lot more of that.
Today I will eat. What I will eat, I am not sure. I will eat tomorrow as well. I will eat what I want when I want, but not eating is not an option. I will run when I want and how far I want, but not to the point of exhaustion, not to "make up" for calories, not as punishment. I will begin to sit and just... sit. Just sit and take in whatever there is around me to take in. I will try my damnedest to curb my restlessness by refocusing my mind and my intentions. I will remind myself over and over (and over and over) again to be kind kind kind. To be compassionate. To listen. Listen to others, listen to myself, listen to my body, listen to the wisdom that is forever available and waiting in the trees, in the clouds, in the birds perched on the wires above my head. I will stop looking down and I will start looking up. There is a world out there. There is a life ready to be claimed. My life, my power, my chance. Let me embrace it all.