I should be skinny by now. It’s been six years four whole 30s and a post fat Oprah Dr. Oz is on to you world. So why my fat do pants look like maternity pants? It would be nice to enter a room as the same time as my stomach. So after this last whole 30 I realized I missed an important aspect (I read the book It Starts with Food) but I must have glazed passed the chapter where it empathized that this is to analyze your relationship to food not be a permeant fix so going through my whole 30 journal I realized that I finally got why I had such a I hate you I love you don’t leave me relationship with dairy and gluten. It was the emotional factor. See while I had gone on and on about how food was my emotional crutch I never took a step back to analyze when I removed the food out of my system how I felt, how my sleep was, and most importantly how those craving died. When I stopped following the Whole 30 principles all the sudden I was back on my corner begging for one more hit of Jamocha Almond fudge, one more sip of a Coco-Cola and a big box of movie popcorn. Yet every time I’ve finished a whole 30 and embraced these foods they never make me happy and they are never as fabulous or wonderful as I’ve made them out to be in my head. So I asked my Buddhist Nun/ therapist why my relationship was so screwed up. In her calm way she simply said “I don’t know but why don’t you write it out for you seem to find the answers in your writings more than talking about it.” So I started looking back at the writings and I realized there was a common theme of loneliness, boredom, and deprivation. Nowhere did I state that I was in desperate need of ice cream but rather there was this nasty emotion of depression, this veil that was all hey what’s up let’s tie up your happy feelings and sink you down to the bottom of the lake of sad feelings. When I started going back through all the journals, the blog post, and even some of the conversations with others I realized that my internal dialogue was really not nice. In fact it was really rude. If my brain was a street you would not want to walk on it with your purse out but rather you would have your Taser out and look around quickly and leave fast.
So I had all this information but now what was I going to do it?
I ignored it.
Yet when you spirit is in such a deep need of healing it will use any means necessary to get your attention. There was no magical moment, no heavenly light, no Morgan Freeman to come down and say look genius this is what’s missing from your life add these and all your problems will be healed. However during a free write (basically a moment where I let my hand wander across with a pen) I wrote down a simple sentence. I have the power to set me free. When I went back to the Buddhist nun/ therapist she told me simply it sounded like my soul was in torment and it was waiting for the conscious mind to set it free. Oh don’t worry there wasn’t a magic answer. Just hard work. As I sit here with my St. Jude candle lit (St. Jude is the patron Saint of lost causes) I wrote a simple contract. 146 days of adding all the various elements together. Fitness. Food. Freedom.
With this I felt a chain being loosened. Not a huge one. Yet slowly and hopefully surely I can loosen the binds that I put around myself all I can say and all I can feel is that I feel the binds are loosening and I’m opening myself slowly one stitch at a time finally it’s a yes, it’s now and I’m ready to cut through all of the darkness and goop that coats my insides. I’ve been waiting for this moment.
So there’s that.