Support and Hope

I love my husband more than I can understand.  It is such a deep love that there is no end or beginning.  It simply sprang into an unending loop of existence that expands with every second.  And even more amazing is that he loves me even though I have damaged myself for so very long.  I have made many mistakes in my life, mistakes that have scarred me to my bones, mistakes that have painted my very soul with blood.  He looks right at me and he sees the girl with the long brown hair that loved her family and her Lord.  She wanted nothing more than to be kind to others and be liked in return.  He found that person inside of me and he took her hand and he brought her into the light of his love.  By doing so he showed me that loving yourself and others is harder than simply not caring, that it is in fact one of the hardest most rewarding goals a person can pursue.  He has shown me that family is not just people you are related to, but rather people that are as much a part of you as you are a part of them.  He has shown me that love does not come from cookies but rather from listening and feeling what other people are experiencing.  He has taught me to laugh at myself, that mistakes are only mistakes and need not be dwelled on past the learning experience.  He has given that young lady hope that she can someday live the life she dreamed of so very long ago and he has agreed to support me through this transition as I seek to bring those dreams to fruition.  Whether I succeed in fulfilling every dream or not I will be a better person for the rest of my life because of his love and devotion to me, and my love and devotion to him.  

My husband has given me love but he has also given me hope.  Because if he loves me even through all of this then I have hope that I can become the person I want to be.  Tonight my group leader gave the group a quote.  I will include it below.  The quote explored the concept that people are born the way that God designs.  Then because we are free to make choices we try to make choices that will make the world like us better, but all we end up doing is trying to bury that beautiful, essential part of our selves deep inside because for some reason we decide that it is not good enough.  I am determined to find that inner self, the original Lorane God intended me to be, and I am determined to bring as much of her as I can out into the world.

“The original, shimmering self gets buried so deep that most of us end up hardly living out of it at all. Instead we live out all the other selves, which we are constantly putting on and taking off like coats and hats against the world’s weather”  - (Buechner, 1991)

Daily

I don't sleep so well anymore.  My brain it just will not stop thinking.  When I do sleep I sometimes dream of running.  Not running from someone but simply running for the joy of it.  I imagine the feeling of my feet pounding onto the ground and pushing me far ahead while my arms are tucked close to my body.  I hear myself breathing hard as I am running for all I am worth and it feels so wonderful to push my body.  To feel my muscles work to push me faster and faster and the light is all golden and it is just beautiful, wonderful, and it is only a dream.

All of a sudden I am not able to run anymore I have awakened and as I push up through blankets to the light all of my weight slides down on me at one time.  I know that when I get out of bed and I put my feet on the floor to stand that weight will cause pain in my feet.  The pain is only sharp, quick, strong and gone, just like that.  But it's a lie the pain will stay there all day in every step.  Some steps feel like a stab all the way up my legs, some are deep in my bones and joints.  This makes me walk like an old lady.  I am bent over and I can't help but shorten my steps as though I really believe that if I take shorter steps they will hurt less.  Of course they don't, because no matter how short my step is I am still putting all of that weight down on my foot.

I stretch and work my way into the bathroom so I can begin my morning ritual of a shower.  I tend to maintain eye contact with my reflection in the mirror.  I don't want to even accidentally see what shape my body is in.  I don't want to see the pliable rounds and curves of my flesh.  The soft bruises where my clothes dig into me and scar me.  I don't want to see the stretch marks or the varicose veins that cover my legs like the shadows of dead vines in winter time.  So I maintain eye contact and focus on my hair and facial features.  While I bathe I wash every inch of my body top to bottom because I am scared that I will smell.  I don't look at myself while washing myself either, I just simply close my eyes.  Every day, every single day when I get out and I use the towel that I have laid out to dry off with I am hit with guilt because I can no longer wrap the towel all the way around my body.  They don't make towels large enough for me to wrap up in.  That is one the many little things that makes me ashamed of who I am everyday.

Now that I am clean I look to see what I will wear for the day.  I have specific dresses for each day of the week because I no longer take joy in picking out my outfit for the day.  Having an assigned outfit for the day reduces my stress and worry because I don't harbor the hope that maybe this top or that bottom will be more flattering.  I would waste so much time trying on different outfits hoping for a miracle that would make me approve of who I saw in the mirror.

I have certain rituals as I prepare myself for work.  I make my instant iced coffee the same way every morning and every morning it goes in the same to go cup.  If it is not clean I will wash it and then use it even if other glasses are clean.  I also start pretending that I have other things to do.  I will do this and do that to prepare for my day while drinking my coffee then act surprised when I don't have time for breakfast.  This would usually mean a stop on my way to work for a fast food meal.  And since I did not have time for breakfast I would either order two meals, one for now and one for later.  Or I would make plans to have something delivered later.

Then I would arrive at work.  Work makes me nervous and proud.  Nervous because of all of the people that "know" me and want to have a little chit chat; and proud because I still go even though I am nervous, and I have worked really hard to get the promotion to a job I love.  But now is the hardest part of my day, walking the gauntlet.  I smile, gather my purse, lock my door and enter work.  I force myself to make eye contact with everyone walking by and I either nod if they are on the phone or say, "Hey! How are you?"  I try to call everyone I know by their name as I go and sometimes ask about loved ones or interests. I worry over each interaction, "Did I smile big enough?  or too big?  Should I have laughed a little less since my stomach shakes when I laugh? I bothered that person I know, I did I shouldn't have made eye contact with them"

By this time I have already been arguing with myself all morning.  Sometimes it starts as soon as I wake up, other times it hits me in the car.  See I am unhappy with my obesity and hypercritical of any action I take.  I can make decisions, but the repercussions of the decisions literally will echo in my head for awhile.  Something as simple as brushing my teeth can cause me to obsess over whether I did it correctly all the way to work, then I face the gauntlet before I get to my desk. So I have all of that commotion going on in my head. I think the worst part of walking to my desk is that I am exposed.  Everyone can see my body.  Everyone can see that I eat my pain.