madermouse's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 5/10/02 You know, this past week has been a living hell. Actually, its been more like a dreary, grey wasteland in which I am a marionette puppet going through the motions of my life. I wished I could run away, but instead I find myself staring into a still pool of standing water at my reflection, wondering who the hell I am. This girl I thought I new - this strong, powerful, intense woman - is not the person I see staring back at me. No, this little girl looks puffed, tormented, and utterly filled with sadness. The dark circles remind me of a charcoal pencil drawing - smudged. I search inside the weary eyes of this person for traces of her former self...only to find a wall. This wall is built, brick by brick with numbers. Its dizzying, to see all these numbers...the numbers of calories, numbers of pounds, numbers of days gone by without a sound, numbers of minutes until the next meal, numbers of times she�s thought about pills, powders, starvation, shakes, ANYTHING that will make a difference, numbers of times she�s cried that day (at her office in the bathroom, staring at her computer, in bed before falling asleep), numbers of fat grams in last nights dinner, numbers of things she�s tried to be perfect at, numbers of times she�s failed, numbers of times she�s thought about going crazy, numbers of times she obsessed about what she was wearing, the size of her stomach, her thick ankles, numbers of times she�s decided she wasn�t going to quit no matter what, the numbers of times she wanted to quit. And between all these numbers, are the thick, pasty words cementing it all together....plateau. Obsession. I�m learning the depths of this word by the nature of practice. Defined in the dictionary as �to think about something unceasingly, the domination of one�s thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea or desire.� I believe I�ve joined the ranks of the obsessed. Example: A friend purchased lunch for the office, which resulted in a single, leftover chicken burrito. I had eaten a full lunch with burrito, rice, beans and salad, an apple, so I wasn�t feeling hungry in the least. Yet my thoughts turned to that burrito no less than 400 times that day. You think I�m exaggerating, but I�m not. I even found myself wandering to the fridge, opening it, spying that burrito, then slamming the door and saying �NO!� in my head. An hour later, I was back, holding it in my hand, contemplating popping it the microwave or simply devouring it whole and cold in all its glory. A co-worker entered the kitchen and I immediately replaced it, embarrassed at being caught. It went on this way until I wearily went home. I managed to go the whole day without eating it. But the next day, it was still there....calling my name. But the more I thought about that damn burrito, the more I was determined NOT to eat it - just out of sheer principle. It was torturing me. So, needless to say, relief washed over me when a co-worker came out of the kitchen with that damn thing on her plate and said, �I�m so glad this was left over....I didn�t have a lunch today!� I let out a huge sigh, wiped the sweat from my brow, and replied, �Oh - there were leftovers? I didn�t know that or I would�ve snagged it myself.� chuckle chuckle.... liar, liar, pants on fire. I don�t know what to say other than I�ve spent a lot of time thinking this week about my life, about my diet. I e-mailed those on my notify list with a pathetic, vulnerable cry for help a few days ago, and it was probably the best thing I could�ve ever done. You responded with everything back from, �Wake up and smell the coffee!� to �Its okay, I�ve been there too.� to �You need counseling.� to �Don�t feel ashamed to use some pills...we all need help from time to time.� to �You aren�t thankful enough for what you�ve already accomplished, how far you�ve come.� to �Get real - you�re awesome!�. In this myriad of responses, the one thing I heard the most was a resounding �You haven�t failed, and you�re not going to. I believe in you.� And I guess that�s what really spoke to me. How can so many people believe in me, MORE than I believe in myself? There can only be two answers to this question. One is, that they don�t know me very well. (Which, nobody can REALLY know a person through a website that is focused on a single subject, right? I mean, what kind of music do I listen to?? Hmmmm?) And the other is, that perhaps I have a skewed vision of who I really am and what I�m capable of because I�m in the depths of it. You know, not seeing the forest for the trees kind of thing? So I choose to believe it�s the latter of the too. Because I think you all know me well enough when it comes to my determination, my strengths and weaknesses, and my feelings about weight loss. And it wouldn�t be a far stone to throw to say that I have a f*cked up vision of who I am.....been there, done that my whole life. Faith. I did that whole Christian thing when I was in my youth. I just had this blind all-encompassing faith that there was a God and Jesus was his son, and that we should all live by the Bible and those who didn�t believe were going to burn in hell and so was I if I didn�t go to church! I look back and wonder, how did I just opened myself up like that and follow this belief blindly, without question. Was it just the innocence of childhood? As you can guess, I�m no longer a Christian. I started asking questions that couldn�t be answered and it was as if I woke up one day and I didn�t belong there, and I didn�t believe any of those things anymore, and I felt like I was in a rehearsed scene in a movie. So I turned my cheek and never looked back. I�ve studied other religions in the meantime, trying to find the faith that others have....Buddhists, Wiccans, our American Indians. I tell you that I�ve only found one thing that has brought faith back into my life. Its this journey. This �weight loss religion� I�ve built for myself has turned me back into a believer of something, and at times I find myself possessing that all-encompassing faith that I remember as a child. Its that �knowing� inside of you, that no matter how bad things get that you�ll come out alright. Its that feeling of being cradled by cosmic hands, when you�re so sad you can�t even breathe. Its taking scary first steps into unknown territories without question, because you know you have to go there. That�s what faith is to me now. An undying, un-extinguishable flame that refuses to go out even in the deepest of storms. As these days have turned into a long week, I�ve come to an end and approached a beginning again. That never-ending circle which is life, has presented me with hope. My obsession has faded into the black, like a hideous creature backing away from sunlight. And with it goes my need to experience that intense sadness, that pain, that anguish I�d been trapped with for days and days. Then faith appears, like a gentle rain which washes away anger and frustration, leaving behind cool, clean renewal. Then I pick myself up, and I go on because its all I know how to do now. I can�t ever quit, because quitting just isn�t an option anymore. I have to cross this plateaued wasteland and trust that soothing green pastures lie somewhere off in the distance. I have to trust in my faith that I will make it to the end - no matter what. 2:12 p.m. - 5/10/02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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