Wednesday, March 10

unburying

"What will determine the course of your life, more than any other one thing, is whether or not you are willing to tolerate necessary discomfort." -Barbara Sher

For a compulsive binge eater, which I guess I am, there is a parallel drawn between the feeling of satiation and safety. It follows that any negative feeling or happening in ones life is cause to go running for the safe numb feeling of a delicious meal. Sadly, in a world where one walks around feeling scared and insecure and never good enough, that is pretty much a nonstop cycle.

This is where the hurdle lies, for hunger in of itself is nothing I am incapable of dealing with. It is the sheer and all consuming panic, the shaking empty gasp for air, for the remotest possible chance I may feel or experience a bad thing and the crutch won't be there. That I won't be safe; that someone will hurt my feelings; that I will fail at something; that I will be embarrased, or wrong; that I will be judged. That I will be alone. I can't feel discomfort for even a second, physically or emotionally, or the resonance of that wall of fear sets in.

The irrationality of it all is absurd. Eating better and exercising makes me feel better, I know this from experience. But I think standing up and looking over the wall means the discomfort is inevitable. I just have to accept that I will be ok while enduring it.

Nay, I will be better. Much better.

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