People have been asking me, Where is Chrysalisbreak?
I am wondering the same thing. In conversation I keep telling people, I can't WAIT for summer!
I am doing something I am not technically supposed to do. I am living in wait of a future time when things will be better, when I'll have more time, when I get to do what I want.
This is a set-up. My life will most likely not slow down, ever. Rather it will gain in momentum as my kids gain in size, age, and angst.
The thing about mindfulness, about spirituality, is that it doesn't work in my future life. It only works now. If I wait, and starve my soul, I wither very quickly. I become a barking beast who hulks around the kitchen with eyelids slumping low, seeing nothing, and waiting to pounce on the next kid to spill their macaroni and cheese.
When I look in the mirror, I see the places exercise will not touch. They become thick unnecessary growths. I wish I could cut them off in the shower. My solution to this is to stop eating. My mind still reaches for relief in this way. If I stop eating so much these growths would not exist, and I would feel free, unburdened.
I imagine how I would look if I had time for myself. I would be like those moms who have matching work-out clothes. I see them at my job. I work in the daycare at the rec center. They come in wearing colors like cantaloupe, mint and hot-pink. Their shoes always look new, and their hair is clean even though they're about to get all sweaty. They go to Zumba or Pilates or cycle for 90 minutes.
When I am quiet. When I am centered. When I am awake. I don't want to be one of those moms. I want to be exactly what, who where I am. I take my kids climbing and we get dirty. I look in the mirror and see a familiar woman. I see someone who is doing her best. I see someone strong. My kids can spill their cereal, and I can say, It's alright, let's clean it up together.
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| Woman Before a Mirror - 1897 Henri deToulouse-Lautrec |
Another thought which keeps passing across my forehead is,
Have I stopped writing because I think I'm "all better?" Do I imagine that because I've written this eating disorder blog for a year, I am somehow done?
This is certainly not true. I still carry the clipboard everywhere I go. I check off the boxes each time I see a woman. This sucks. Plainly sucks. I wish I didn't do it.
- skinnier than me
- bigger than me
- thicker waist then me
- eating less than me
- wearing the right shorts for her legs
- it's 3 pm - how many calories have you consumed today?
- is she bigger than the last time I saw her?
Really, this is just my brain trying to figure out whether or not it can get away with going back to old ways. It is constantly rebooting and looking for a person who is successfully undereating and overexercising. But every time it tries, it is now confronted with the truth. The truth is: no one gets away with disordered eating.
I don't have to look for very long anymore. Now the reboot happens in seconds, and I can see the actual person very quickly. I can also find myself after a few deep breaths.
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