Old habits die hard…
Fat talk today is a lot louder than yesterday, even with yesterday’s sitting game (for which I needed Day 61’s reminders) played with candles and movies and pajama pants = gaining weight, need to weigh myself to make sure that I haven’t gained weight, less defined abdominals, flap of skin between my belly-button and underpants waistband, sitting down typing or marking, being on the computer for too long…
Name it: Is it boredom or fatigue or not wanting to be at school or? It is tough to name the shame when you can’t name the shame-er. Is this one of the things I have to accept that I cannot change? That my mind is always going to play tricks on me or make me veer left when I want to go right?
Here is how I will look at it: every habit can be broken, just as every habit can be made. Fat shaming is not a habit per say, but there are things I can do now to decrease my stress level so that the voice isn’t so loud tomorrow: not drinking tonight, getting enough sleep, candle-burning, distracting myself.
“Any man who reads too much and uses his own brain too little falls into lazy habits of thinking.” – Albert Einstein
In the paragraph before this, I wanted to write that “I think” or “I wonder” or ask another fucking question. But the time for that is not now. The time now is for thinking and not gathering evidence, as the safety of wondering, of dreaming, of waiting for tomorrow, that safety has been traded for the uncertainty (and consequential beauty) of actions, of using my own brain.
The worst of the detox is only complete if I don’t fall into bad habits again. The last of the poison is coursing through my veins and drip by drip I can bleed it out, but only if I don’t seal up the wounds too early and only if I don’t inject more habitually figurative rage into me. Getting the poison out over the last three days took courage, it will take strength to hang on tight. It will take serenity to understand how much of this will remain, how much of it there was to begin with and therefore how long it will take to drip out, and it will take love to keep me sane through the process. It will take respect for myself to feel like I am worthy enough for this endeavour and wisdom to know that I don’t know everything, but I know enough for me, for right now.