Ditch the Armor

 

Not terribly long ago, a dear friend kindly explained to me how brightly I shine, but pointed out the caveat that I'm prone to projecting this sort of tough-girl façade, which only takes away from my natural light and likeability.  Feeling incredibly exposed and caught off guard, I reflected on my friend's statements for some time; both touched and bewildered. 

You see, this front of mine, this virtual armor, if you will, is something I've been building and wearing for years, and it used to be voluntary and intermittent, only applied when necessary.  But I suppose after a while it became second nature, a permanent part of me, like a skin graft so undetectable that it was barely worth pointing out.  Little did I know I was wearing it around like an obnoxious fur coat or bright red leather pants; this huge chip on my shoulder had become so obtuse and bulky that I was the only one I was fooling.  I should have known that a true friend can always see through the armor. 

Let's not rewind through time and get into why and how this persona I'd developed over the years came to be.  Instead, let's focus on the fact that it was brought to light, it has been nurtured and fed entirely too long, and I don't want to enable it anymore.  I don't want to keep adding chunks of metal onto this shield, becoming more and more hardened, increasingly impervious to whatever it is I'm attempting to protect myself from.  No more "tough girl" for me.  Not that it was ever intentional, not that it's how I wanted to be perceived, but there are times when people create characters, extensions of themselves, to distract from what's truly there, to defend against the elements and the harsh possibilities presented by a reality that they're scared to be a part of.

Metaphorically speaking, maybe I subconsciously thought that my shiny armor made me more captivating, attractive, or intriguing in some way.  Maybe I gleaned some false sense of security from it, thinking that I had an advantage over anyone I encountered because I could see them in their natural state but I - I was a mystery.  Maybe I didn't realize that my armor was only partial and that it didn't extend like chain mail down my arms and legs, so that people could still see the beating heart I wore on my sleeve.  Truth is, I'm sick of carrying the shield around. It's heavy, it's dragging me down, and it's dulling my shine. 

I don't want to live behind this wall anymore.  I want to extend the same grace and kindness to everyone I meet.  I want to allow myself to be open to the world and all the experiences it has to offer, even if that means allowing myself to be vulnerable, to accept the possibility of being hurt (as opposed to pretending that absolutely nothing can hurt me because I won't let anyone get that close), and throwing caution to the wind, leaping with my eyes closed.  I want to give and to love freely, I want to remember what it feels like to be the kind of beautiful that only comes when you are truly and unapologetically yourself, without being tainted by the concern of others' perceptions or opinions.  I want to love and give without assuming that someone is incapable of doing the same for me.  I don't want to feed into preconceived notions based on fear and insecurity and past hurt.  I want to forgive, let go, trust. 

The following words and ideas aren't mine, and I'm sure they've been spoken many times throughout history, but I thought they were fitting for what I'm feeling:

• Change is a prerequisite to growth
• Change hurts
• Change humbles
• Change requires coming clean
• Change is illuminating
• Change can be facilitated by loss, grief, suffering, desperation
• Change is purifying

Small Victories

Sometimes losing means winning. Many blessings are often disguised as hardships, such as loss. Loss of a job, which forces you to take control of your life and make decisions that push you outside of your comfort zone, perhaps landing you a job doing something you love and thereby greatly improving the quality of your life.

Loss of a loved one, which is always tragic, can sometimes shed new light on a dream or a purpose. You always see people who defend noble causes in honor of a loved one, and what starts as paying homage to the memory of their life ends up helping thousands of people in similar situations and realizing a higher calling.

Loss of a relationship, loss of a home, loss of health. All losses can have silver linings if we choose to see them. They can forge unity and strength, community and triumph. They can be the wake-up calls we need to promote change within our own lives, showing us we've been taking things for granted, "doing it wrong."

Today though I'm talking about something much smaller. However, my recent loss still represents an issue with great challenges. Sometimes we try something and fail over and over, perceiving instability or fearing one result or another. I'm talking about weight loss.

For many people weight loss signifies a huge life change. Most people, especially those who have never struggled with weight, view weight loss as a simple choice and a superficial change to one's physical appearance. But the changes are not purely physical. They are as psychological as they are bodily. Metaphorically speaking, weight loss represents for many people the purging of some sort of emotional baggage. Replacing it with strength and resolve. Filling the void with confidence instead of seeking comfort through the pursuit of harmful habits.

No, I wouldn't consider myself someone with a weight problem. Nor am I unhealthy. But I can empathize with those in these categories, whether they have a medical condition, disease, food addiction, or just basic bad habits. Most people with weight problems (either obesity or being underweight) suffer from body image issues. Whether they've had those issues from the beginning or developed them as a result of their worsening condition, it's a legitimate psychological mountain with varying degrees of severity and impact.

Overcoming body image issues is extremely difficult. Even if there's absolutely nothing wrong with a child, teenager or young adult who is simply thin as a result of active metabolism and genetics, that person can develop body image issues or turn to overeating because of the taunting from others. "Skinny" kids get labeled anorexic, bulimic, skeletal, and disgusting by classmates and peers. Adults tease and prod, tactlessly expressing their concerns.

Girls are tormented by the fact that they don't look mature and feminine like some of their more "normal" friends. They feel ugly. The theme affects boys too, who don't feel as masculine or tough as some of their counterparts, who may be athletic, more popular, and more liked by the opposite sex. There is almost just as big a stigma associated with being underweight as with being overweight.

Along with the development of overeating and unhealthy habits, kids who are bullied for being too skinny also often turn to dangerous ways of seeking attention and redeeming likeability. In girls this may mean becoming promiscuous, dressing proactively or inappropriately, or overcompensating in some other way. In boys it could lead to retaliation and violence, turning to substance abuse in order to "fit in," or maybe even criminal activity in hopes of being seen as brave and daring in order to gain popularity. Kids can act out in all kinds of ways as they start to feel alienated and distanced from what they view as social norms.

I probably don't have to delve into the psychology of overweight kids. I'm making the assumption that it's safe to say they get teased worse than anybody else. Many of them grow up feeling worthless, unliked, even disgusting. If it's genetic and their parents are overweight, they may feel angry and helpless. If it's self-inflicted as a means of seeking comfort from an unstable home environment, they may feel confused and experience self-loathing.

The pressures of society and the media telling girls they have to be thin and curvy and telling boys they have to be tall and muscular, or whatever comparative "norm" is promoted as desirable at the time, forces adolescents to want to "keep up" with each other and try to mold themselves to be more like somebody else. As if adolescence weren't awkward enough, trying to shape and define your physical appearance before you're even finished growing is like torture to most kids.

Whether girls are throwing up in bathrooms or stuffing their bras and putting on lipstick because they think it's going to make people stop making fun of them, the common denominator is that they don't like themselves. Even without a medical diagnosis or evident disorder, the psychological harm exists. Whether teenage boys are tempted to use steroids or try to "bulk up" in some other unsafe way, it's rare that they find and embrace their identity in their uniqueness.

The kids we knew as "misfits," "nerds," and "punks" were rarely happy to be labeled that way. And the ones who did it for the attention or because they liked the culture were most likely seeking some other form of comfort and unity, whether in the lyrics of songs by bands that they identified with or in the compassion of close friends who might've been among the chosen few made privy to family or emotional problems.

For most, body image issues are not just some "phase" (and are not always indicated by weight). They don't change with ebb and flow of new fads and trends, and they don't usually just go away on their own. It's typically a lifelong struggle with insecurity and self-doubt, the compulsion to always compare oneself to others, forcing feelings of inadequacy and inferiority, and the cyclical never-good-enough complex that spins you in circles until you forget you're only competing with yourself.

Therefore, weight loss (or healthy weight gain) and bodily change, regardless of how small or dramatic, signify something huge for most people: a change in mentality, an altered perception of self, and the triumph over an internal conflict. For most, holding oneself accountable is the biggest struggle of all. Having to answer to yourself at the end of the day is so much harder than having to respond to a trainer or a program. Completing tasks and meeting goals are not necessarily equivalent to actually feeling differently about yourself. Learning to love oneself unconditionally is something that many people never accomplish. Being happy when you look at your reflection in the mirror, beyond just what you see, is the hard part for many.

I've struggled with body image issues my whole life and have always had an inferiority complex. I compare myself to others obsessively. I was one of the kids who got teased for being skinny and a late bloomer, and I got labeled with eating disorders as if they were nicknames, even though I had no existing medical conditions. I was just a healthy kid with a rapid metabolism. I was tall and awkward and it took me a lot longer to grow into my features than other girls my age, and I always resented them for that.

As I got older I started to fill out and my metabolism started to slow down. I've never considered myself "fat" but I've put on some weight over the years and it's gotten to a point I'm uncomfortable with. A lot of people might read this and think, "oh please, that's everyone. You're no different than anybody else." And that's their prerogative, but I know that some people are affected by things that others just aren't, and I'm addressing those things within myself. See, I tend to seek food for comfort, for amusement, for satisfaction. If I'm bored, I eat. If I'm sad, I eat. Angry, lonely, nervous, you name it. It's become sort of a hobby.

When I was younger I could literally eat whatever I wanted because I never put on weight and I continued those habits into adulthood, until I realized it was unhealthy and I was no longer immune to the effects of overindulgence. I started to get mad at myself for lacking the willpower and discipline to make healthier choices, or to maintain them for longer than two weeks before reverting to my old ways. I'd see nothing wrong with eating a whole pizza or devouring a half gallon of ice cream, and then I'd wonder why I was gaining weight and I'd hate myself for it.

My clothes stopped fitting and I'd buy new ones, I'd make excuses not to go somewhere when I was disgusted with how I looked after trying on everything in my closet that was now at least two sizes too small. I would get stomach pains from continually "sucking it in" and then I'd tell myself that no one could notice and I still looked the same. I'd try gimmick after gimmick, thinking I'd find a magic pill that would allow me to keep pigging out and gorging myself without changing my lifestyle or working harder at being healthy.

Finally I decided I've had enough. I'm a couple years shy of thirty and I want those years to be some of the best of my life. I'm done with hating myself, pitying myself, and envying others. I decided to join Weight Watchers. For those of you who have heard of the program but are unfamiliar with what it's all about, first let me tell you that diet programs are not restricted to any kind of stereotype or number. You don't have to weigh a certain amount or be declared obese to join one of these programs. It's for anyone who needs education and assistance with their goals, and it gives you guidance and control.

Number one, I chose Weight Watchers because it doesn't restrict your food choices (it's not proprietary. With NutriSystem I think they send you their own brand of food that you commit to eating. Some other companies make you buy cookbooks or smoothie-making equipment, or tell you to commit to a liquid diet and buy all their supplements). Weight Watchers does have their own brand of food that you can buy in the supermarket, but that's not a key component to joining their program, which gives you the freedom to make choices and learn as you go.

I also got a good deal. I signed up for three months (which is really the minimum amount of time you should commit to something before expecting to see real results) for under $60. At the end of my 3 months, my rate will renew monthly at under $20/month. This is less than I pay for my gym membership and I use it every day, so it's worth it to me. For the money you get the full version of the app (the free version is limited), the full support of the website with your own private, personalized identity, the tools and resources of the website and mobile app, and the ability to go to any meeting in the area.

What I value most about it is the education. For me, the problem wasn't what I was eating, but how much. I knew enough to understand that cheesesteaks and fries weren't healthy choices and I tried my hardest to practice moderation with my weaknesses, sweets and carbs. I kind of had a grasp on the science and makeup of foods. What was totally over my head was quantity and portion size. I've always had a hearty appetite, and I sort of became known for how much I could eat. I loved the attention and bragging rights, and pigging out made me feel good.

My body became accustomed to the amount of food I'd consume and I started needing larger quantities on a regular basis, just to satiate myself. I eventually lost that "full" signal your brain sends to your stomach to tell you to stop eating, which indicates a hormonal imbalance of leptin and ghrelin (look it up). I'd just keep going until whatever was in front of me was gone. Oh, and there was always room for dessert or another drink. For some reason I'd make excuses for those things, telling myself they didn't count as food.

So when I learned that a single 5-oz. glass of my beloved red wine was worth 4 points, I nearly cried. How could the universe be so unfair? What have I done to myself? I mean, I'd been drinking two to three glasses almost every night! That's almost half my daily food allowance. I started to understand that the way I'd been living and treating my body was not only gluttonous but unhealthy, and I was in denial. It was time to stop kidding myself and finally take action. That was three weeks ago, and I've lost about 5 pounds. That may not sound like much to you, but I haven't seen the number on the scale this low in almost 3 years.

Weight Watchers calculates a points value for all foods and beverages based on their fat, carbs, fiber, and protein. You don't have to count calories, it's all factored in. I have been so surprised at the points values of some of the things I thought were harmless or "healthy." And some of those things may in fact be healthy, but not in the amounts I was consuming. Weight Watchers forces you to account for your portion sizes and meal choices. It encourages you to plan ahead, it gives you advice on situations where you might not have healthy options, and it has guidelines for "cheat" foods and scenarios. They assign you a points-plus value per day that is calculated by your height, weight, age, and weight loss goal. You stick to that amount of points per day, you lose weight. It's that simple. Put less food into your body, lose weight. It may sound mindless, but some people really need help with that, and I'm one of them.

The cool thing is that you also get an allowance - a weekly budget of "bonus" points - for situations where you're forced to cheat (happy hours, office parties, special occasions, or just drinks/dessert). Obviously you can't use all the allowance points every week or use them as excuses to eat bacon and fries every day, but they're there because we're human and things happen. Just to give you an idea, I'm currently on a 26-points-per-day diet with a weekly allowance of 49 bonus points. My first goal weight was set at 8 pounds below my starting weight and after I reach that, in a few more weeks, they'll reset my goal weight based on my progress and maybe even give me a higher points allowance.

Healthy weight loss is not rapid. Anywhere from a half pound to two pounds per week is healthy, depending on the individual. And they say that the slower you lose it, the longer you keep it off. In three weeks I've lost just shy of five pounds and I couldn't be more excited. You're only supposed to weigh yourself once a week, and every time I'm about to weigh in I get excited to see the surprise on the scale. I almost can't believe it's working because nothing else has - but I haven't actually changed my diet in a real way before.

Weight Watchers works even if you can't increase your physical activity. They don't set guidelines for how much you should work out, but they do encourage and reward exercise. You can enter points values for physical activity and if you're ever in a deficit of your points allowance, it'll take from your activity points to balance what you ate. Like I said, put less food in your body and you will lose weight. Weight Watchers re-teaches you how to eat. With 26 points per day I try to stick to 6 or 7 points per meal and leave room for snacks throughout the day. The first week was hard because I'm used to eating double or triple what I'm eating now, but it's surprisingly doable and manageable if you plan your choices accordingly.

For example, a vegetarian chicken patty is 4 points and string cheese is one point. Then I can have a yogurt or some cracker chips, or a brownie bar. When I went food shopping, it was actually fun to use the barcode scanner and Weight Watchers database to look for the brands and foods that I was used to eating and see how many points they were worth per serving. Some things I was pleasantly surprised with, others I put right back on the shelf. I bought foods that specifically lend themselves to eating fairly healthy but that are also filling enough to be satisfying in smaller portions. I even bought snacks and desserts that aren't too bad. Some of the Weight Watchers desserts are downright delicious :-)

Another thing is that you're allowed to eat all the fruits and veggies you want, as long as they're fresh or frozen and not cooked in oil, butter or fattening sauce. That definitely encourages you to eat fruits and vegetables with every meal, which are actually filling substitutes for chips or junk (albeit somewhat less satisfying, but there's always a degree of sacrifice). I snack on baby carrots or apple slices, I have a banana with breakfast, and I make lots of fresh vegetables with dinner now. Just by trying to stay within your points allowance you eat healthier automatically.

For foods that aren't in the database they have a calculator so that you can type in the information off the nutrition label. Common mistakes, such as serving sizes (2 servings in a can of soup), are easier to avoid using the Weight Watchers app. And it's so handy to be able to pull it up on your phone anytime. It forces me to be honest and accountable for everything I eat, which ensures an accurate measurement and result. And then every week when I weigh in and track my weight loss, I get an email patting me on the back and encouraging me to keep up the good work. You become your own coach and Weight Watchers becomes your cheerleader.

Maybe it's not for everybody, but it's something that I needed. I lack the discipline and knowledge to make the changes without help and this is the perfect amount of guidance for me because it teaches me and allows me to still be in control. It's amazing what you can do when you actually stick to a plan, and sometimes it's as simple as monitoring what you're eating. It's a lifelong change in habits and something I'm sure I'll use for a long time. It's not a gimmick, it's not hard to stick to, it's proven and it just takes some adjusting.

I'm still going to the gym as much as possible, which isn't always as often as I'd like, and I know that will only help me further along in my progress. I'm turning a new leaf and every small loss is a big win for me. I'm squashing that little voice inside that tells me I'm inadequate and that I'm not going to be able to change it. This is one way that I'm learning to love myself, and I am confident for the first time that I'm in control of my body and my body image issues. Losing the weight and the baggage along with it!

Oh, and dark chocolate is low in points, fyi ;-)

We All Need a Little Help Sometimes...

...and there's nothing wrong with that. 

Whether you get by with a little help from your friends, whether you turn to God/your faith, whether you seek the help of a professional or a support group, we all need a little help sometimes.  I think one of the most grown-up things I've done recently (besides actually dry cleaning clothes for the first time) is acknowledge that I need help, admit the things I need help with, and actually take the steps necessary towards asking for the help. 

Those of you who know me and/or read this regularly ("regularly" is kind of ironic considering how sporadically I actually write anymore) know that I'm Christian and believe in God.  Whether you believe in God or another religion, or maybe you just believe in a higher spiritual power, then surely you must know how it feels to pray.  And not just those prayers that you were taught to say every night before you go to sleep that kind of sound the same each time (the ones you actually doze off while praying and don't really finish).  I mean the deep, sincere prayers, the kind that come from going through hardships and needing something to cling to. 

I can't believe I never thought of this before, but I finally started a prayer journal.  It's strange to me that the idea never occurred to me, considering how much I love to write and use writing as my preferred means of communication.  My mind is so busy that it's hard to concentrate on prayer, even during the day, without getting sidetracked and interrupted by other thoughts.  Writing (typing) my prayers really helps me focus and hear the things I want to say.  Plus it's a good way to keep track of things that are going on in your life and to look back and remember what you were going through at any given point in time. 

The act of prayer is different for everyone, and it's personal, but I'm sure of one commonality upon which most would agree: that prayer is comforting.  So, thankfully, we can pray anytime.  And when we pray, we are kind of soliciting God's ear and his guidance.  We are usually directly asking Him for something (and hopefully always thanking Him for something).  But what about the times when unsolicited help just crosses your path in the most unexpected of ways? What about the times when God seems to literally answer your prayers before you've even prayed them and sends you a message of some sort to wake you up and tell you just what you need to hear?

That happened to me the other day.  I was leaving my office and was on my way somewhere, driving.  Out the passenger-side window I recognized someone on a street corner, someone I went to college with and hadn't seen in several years.  I was going too fast to stop and say anything, but I thought it was bizarre because he isn't from around here, and if even two more seconds had gone by I would've never known he was in town.  So later on that night I contacted him via Facebook and confirmed that it was him, and suggested that we have lunch while he's in town visiting.  We scheduled lunch for this past Thursday. 

In the meantime, a few things happened that were extremely tough.  I was dealing with my grandfather's sudden passing and the pain of not being able to travel to Louisiana to be with my family for the funeral, a couple of close friends experienced tragic losses (to protect their privacy I won't elaborate), and I also went through a very difficult couple of days emotionally, which included some relationship pitfalls and some personal struggles.  The week just felt so confusing and heavy, like I was being knocked backwards and held down. 

The night before lunch with my friend, I'd had one of the worst nights I've had in a long time.  The kind that are so ugly it hurts to even look back and reflect on them, but so prickly that they attach to your brain and won't let you forget.  I barely slept, and I was exhausted.  I thought about canceling lunch since I hadn't gotten much done early in the day, due to being tired and distracted, but I decided to go - I felt compelled to - it was too weird how we crossed paths in that moment after all these years with so many other factors pointing to us never seeing each other again. 

Now let me clarify: we weren't close friends or anything.  We weren't even in the same class.  As a matter of fact, our familiarity with each other could be considered inconsequential.  If I hadn't passed him on the street corner after work the other day, I might've never given thought to never seeing him again.  But running into each other despite the odds was just too uncanny to ignore.  So we met for lunch.  And what I anticipated would be small talk about what we've been doing for the past several years quickly turned into one of the most amazing, enlightening, miraculous conversations I've ever had.  It felt so surreal.  When he started telling me about things going on in his life and about his journey to overcome personal struggles, all of his words sounded like they were meant for me.  I felt like I was looking in the mirror.  I felt like someone had spied on me and sent him to deliver this message.  I felt like asking, "How did you know?"

The honesty and humility with which he told his story was absolutely refreshing, especially considering we're virtually strangers.  But it felt like we were meant to be in that moment.  I praised his maturity and growth and told him I admired his self-awareness.  So many people go through life, lost, in denial, not even knowing they're downward spiraling and making excuses for their own existence.  Here was someone who faced a series of trials and struggles, realized he had problems that he needed to fix before he lost everything or became seriously ill or hurt, sought the help necessary to start repairing what was broken, distanced himself from things that triggered problematic behavior, and began to heal, forgive, and be grateful for each day.  Talk about strength.  Think of all the people that blame the world for their issues, or who never even consider that they're part of the problem themselves?

I realize how vague this all sounds, I do.  But since I'm talking about a real person I can't in good conscience air his dirty laundry for the sake of my story.  I can tell you, however, that while I didn't identify directly with his specific set of problems, I very much related to the thinking behind them. It was like a light bulb went on, illuminating some mystery that really shouldn't have been a mystery at all. It was like wiping the dust off an old book and feeling like I was seeing it for the first time, except someone else was reading me the pages.  And I was stunned at how easily these words of hurt, progress, and recovery flowed from his mouth, as if he was grateful to be saying them.  I was left speechless at several moments in our conversation because, as I said previously, I felt like he was sent to deliver this message to me at exactly the time I needed it most.  Talk about a wakeup call.  And in the span of an hour, we parted ways.  I went back to my office and he went about his day.  He won't be staying in the area much longer and when he leaves, it's very unlikely that I'll ever see him again. My life was changed, I mean the fabric of it, from what I was feeling before we met to what I was feeling after, in just an hour.  And it came out of nowhere.  What if I had never recognized him or reached out to him?  It was like God and the universe wanted me to have that experience right then.

Everyone takes their own time responding to crisis.  Everyone takes their own time recognizing it even exists.  The journey is different for everyone, and for some, it never happens.  But for many, even in times when we catch a glimpse of a problem, we deny it, push it to the back of our minds, rationalize our way out of our own spotlight until we can think of another cause or something more significant to occupy that space, and we keep going.  We let the same problems (or detrimental thoughts or behaviors) recur again and again, confused as to why, as if we're walking through dense fog.  It can't be us, we think; blaming it on any number of outside factors and influences.  But yet, when we really stop and take a look around, when we're truly alone with ourselves and open to our thoughts, the answers appear, too bright to ignore.

For me, it's not a substance abuse problem or some dark secret I'm hiding.  I guess you could say I'm addicted to control. I try to control everything in my life, down to every word and interaction. But learning that you can't control everyone and everything, learning to relinquish control and surrender to what will be, that's hard. I like to think of it as a character flaw, or bad code. I realize that in so many situations I have forced my own agenda where it might not have been appropriate, where it might've caused damage. And it wasn't with ill intentions, I always meant well. But good intentions are wasted when the actions don't match, and usually they're mismatched because of lack of control. Which, of course, makes me crazy and compels me to fight even harder. That's a good word for it; a compulsion, compulsive behavior. 

Being able to own a situation that didn't turn out how you wanted it to and look at what you did to put yourself there, to open yourself up to that possibility. To think about why you couldn't carry out your intentions, without finding fault or placing blame solely on others and pointing the finger instead of turning inward. And then, forgiving yourself and moving on, with the will and knowledge to do better next time. That's hard. Maybe not for you, maybe not for a lot of people. But my friend taught me something else that felt like I was being pinpointed somehow - that responding and reacting are different. Sometimes when we think we're responding, we're reacting. Stopping yourself and verifying the way you feel, why, and the necessity of what you're about to say or do is essential to not over reacting and causing further damage. You always play a part in the problems you face. Small or large, it's not about blame, but you're part of the equation. And the second you realize you can't control or influence someone else to do or say what you think they should, you're better off. As my friend put it, all you can do is show up, do your best, and let the rest unfold. 

I'll openly tell you that my biggest problem is cyclical negative thinking, carried to an extreme where my thoughts, feelings, emotions, reactions, and behaviors are all controlled by something that isn't even real.  A manifestation of what I imagine to be any combination of worst-case scenarios, all projected farther into the future than anyone can predict.  This mindset stems from a deep-seated fear of not being loved, not being good enough for anyone.  (Go ahead, laugh and mock me).  But really - somewhere along the line, unbeknownst to myself, I developed this fear and harbored it inside me, nurtured it, until it became this monster that consumes me and every last shred of self-esteem and positivity I've ever mustered.  It voids my redeeming qualities and can make me too miserable to even stomach myself. And while "negative thinking" may sound silly and inconsequential to those of you who have "real" problems, let me assure you that this is an affliction by which I could suffer many wounds if not for the insight and resolve I'm trying to gather. 

They say that fear and anger are two of the most toxic emotions.  They can destroy a person from the inside out, like a poison.  It wasn't until the other day that I realized, I mean wind-knocked-out-of-me realized, that my whole life is governed and controlled by my fears, which spawn worries and anxiety, which breed negative thinking, which dictates my behavior, and all of this creates so many problems that have been bewildering me for so many years.  I don't expect anyone to understand; I'm not going into a whole lot of detail, but it won't be until I seek help for this thought process that I can finally be happy and feel the weight be lifted.  Not to say that I think my wiring and circuitry will change, we're built the way we're built, but I can at least learn to understand myself, my triggers, and my patterns of behavior so that I can change my outlook and start to cope.  Start to forgive myself, start to forgive others, start to heal, start to lose the guilt and the pain I've been carrying around.  And most importantly, not lose myself or reach for other toxic things to use for filling that void. 

I feel like I've been shouldering the weight of the world for so long, and the other day when my friend was talking to me, it was like he was lifting it, word by word.  I realized it's ok to feel the way I do and that I'm enough.  I'm allowed to forgive myself.  I don't have to beat myself up and force myself to live in the wreckage of the past.  (Yes, more ambiguity - sorry.  I don't mean to keep dancing around the real meat of the story while only giving you the bones.  It's more detail than I'm comfortable with providing to an obscure audience.)  But that day, I was immediately grateful for everything - my problems, my awareness, the fact that I was open to receive the message I was handed.  Signed, sealed, delivered.  I came home and started my prayer journal, and just today I actually took another step towards my recovery by talking to someone, a professional.  Laugh if you wish; I'm grown-up. 

God works in mysterious ways.  He definitely hand-delivered a message to me through the vessel that is my friend, and from the story of my friend's struggles I was able to begin to recognize and feel my own pain that I'd been numb to.  There is an ongoing conflict happening inside of me - waging war on my mind and my heart, suffocating me and turning me ugly from the inside out.  I will now embark upon conquering that fire - and truly healing myself so that I may radiate positivity and happiness from this moment forward.  It starts with being grateful, being humble, and forgiving.  Life is too short to be anything but.

I am getting help. I am getting help letting go.  I am letting go.