So Much to Say, So Little . . . er . . . Space?

Ok, I might be back to posting daily over the next few days here because there has been a LOT percolating in my brain, but I’m starting with this:

Who do you want to be?

I’m a big believer that as a general rule, we become what we identify ourselves as – not the other way around.  Now, that’s not always the case – if you’re gay, I think you were born that way, and the identification came later.  But if you identify as cynical, you become MORE cynical.  If you identify as an optimist, you become MORE optimistic.  If you identify as lucky you become luckier.  You get what you expect – what you attract, even.

At least, I’ve noticed that *I* work that way.  (And hey, if *I* do, doesn’t everyone?  Isn’t everyone in the world exactly like me?  No?  Well, let’s pretend for this post, ok?  ;D)

I’ve reformatted the blogrolls over on the side.   The Eating Disorders feed is gone, as is the Fatosphere feed.  The blogs I read from those feeds have been added to the general blogroll, and I won’t miss the others.  I don’t want to ID as “Eating Disordered” or “Fat and Staying That Way, so Fuck Off” anymore.  I want to be done with that, and hanging on to those labels doesn’t do me any good. 

I hereby declare myself Recovered and Healthy (at whatever weight my body settles at WHEN I TREAT IT WELL).

Now, I KNOW that there is work ahead of me.  I know I will want to binge and starve and exercise like crazy and rationalize that “IT’S ALL OK, BECAUSE I’M FAT!”  I KNOW.  But see, I can work through all of that, but I CAN’T WORK THROUGH IT IF I’M STILL LETTING IT DEFINE WHO I AM. 

I once heard someone say that recovery from ANY addiction should be like a boat that gets you from one shore (addiction) to the other (healthy/recovered).  But a lot of people are comfortable in the boat, so they never get out on the opposite shore.  They drift forever in that boat called “RecoverING,” without ever getting out on the “RecoverED” shore, because Recovering is familiar and safe. 

I don’t want to drift in that boat forever.  I flat-out refuse to accept that sentence.  And it IS a sentence, just like a prison sentence.  I want to be RecoverED.  I want to eat normally, neither starving nor bingeing nor counting every damn thing that goes into my mouth.  I don’t want to have to explain to every person who gets close to me WHY my eating habits are odd.  I don’t want those habits to be odd AT ALL.

Does that make sense? 

So I got rid of the things – the LABELS – that I’ve been hiding behind.  I booted some stuff, I re-named some stuff.  I’ve got a special category for those who are special to me in some way.  It’s a better reflection of who I am now, good, bad and indifferent.  The labels are mine, not someone else’s that I’m trying to identify with.

It’s a scary thing, out here in the dark without a flashlight.  But I think the monsters are all in my head.

One way or another.