This morning I went back to my very first blog post and reread it. I was so smug then, thinking I had such important things to write about, such a good sense of humor, and a somewhat decent grasp of the English language. This is what I wrote at the end of that post:
I recall some saying out there that explains that giving a voice to or shining a light on a problem that is bothering you ends up diminishing that very same problem. So here's my chance, time to share my messy stuff and by the end it shouldn't look so bad after all.
Or at least that's what I'm telling myself.
Wow, who knew I was going to delve so deep into life with MS and life that doesn't revolve around MS? I had written so much about my journey with multiple sclerosis at the beginning that I never dreamt I would one day be not writing about it. I'm in remission and doing fine on Tysabri, especially now that we have the payment thing supposedly under control.
Who knew I would write about a new diagnosis, diabetes? I never imagined that I would end up diabetic until a few months ago when I began drinking tons of water, peeing my life away during the day, and watching my eyesight grow hazy as I tried to read aloud to my class. It's okay to be dealing with another disease. It really is; 'tis better to be dealt with than to let it run amok with sugar dripping out of me at an alarming rate. Next up on deck: the diabetes nurse educator on Tuesday.
I've written about work and family and mistreating myself. Now I turn the lens inward again to focus on weight and health. I am not healthy. I am obese. It pains me to say it, t0 type it. Some of you knew me when I was thin and fit, but I wasn't healthy then either. It was all a facade while I purged and ran and took diet pills and laxatives. I was a full-on bulimic for many years, starting in high school and carrying me through college.
I remember "beating" bulimia for the first time after I graduated from college. I had put on ten pounds and my mother accosted me and asked me if I was pregnant. Yes, I was rounder but still slender. Her remark cut me to the core. I was devastated and hurt. I left her house and moved in with my soon-to-be-betrothed shortly after. A huge mistake but one that tried to serve as a protective measure at the time.
That was part of what led me to gaining weight, lots of weight. A hundred pounds! I gained a small person; I gained what I should weigh at five feet tall. I gained the weight until I was suffering underneath it. I am now at a place where there is nowhere to go but down or up. My option is down.
Time to rage against the Inner Voice (this comes from Geneen Roth). The Voice that tells me that I am not good enough, not smart enough, not attractive enough, not enough... The Voice that has held me hostage for many years and kept me cuckolded into thinking that I don't deserve health, I don't deserve love, I don't deserve just being the wonderful me that I am.
I vote for health, for love, for appreciation, for satisfaction, for excellence. It's time to tell the Voice that it is wrong, even if it takes me a million times. It's time to eat consciously with pleasure and for a real taste of food. It's time to lift my head up and say, "No more." It's time to gird myself for the battle of my life for this is a war that has to be won.
I hope that you continue to come along as I fight this battle. It could get ugly, but not any uglier than the non-truths I tell myself on the continuous loop in my head.
I AM ENOUGH!
I am fabulous and kind and intelligent.
I am going to become the me that I have been holding back because I have been scared of going up against all the awful labels.
I am ready world so you better watch out!
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