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.
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