Too Rigid

The disease is so cunning.  It speaks in my own voice, knows my favorite songs and chuckles at my greatest fears.  It is the most patient I have ever known; more patient than I ever envision being.

It grabs onto exactly what it wants and nothing else.  It hears the one insult and not the 10 compliments.  It attaches to the bad lighting and not the freedom of movement and power of strength.

It focuses on your opinion, and your approval.  It focuses on what it thinks it knows, not what you present.

Recently, I was sidelined by a comment that was in no way intentionally side-lining.  Someone courageously reached out to me for help in confidence, and I was appreciative of the opportunity to not only be of service but to be immediately reminded of why I fight so hard for my recovery.  She commented that she was saddened by my continued use of rules around food and rigidity employed around eating.  At first I said, “it’s not sad, it’s me knowing what I need for myself and respecting that need.”  Then, I started thinking about it and wondered: is it sad?  Am I too rigid?  Am I too strict?  Am I not really doing as well as I thought?

I have fear around this.  I know how to do rigid.  I know how to be measured.  I know how to stay safe.  But living in the real world surrounded by people that don’t have what I have, requires some flexibility and relaxation.  Sometimes, it’s fucking hard.  And sometimes, I just can’t.

I woke up for the first time this morning having spent time at my parents’ house without eating anything I didn’t need.  I woke up this morning having spent time around food that doesn’t serve not having remorse, regret, or self-judgement.  For the first time, I didn’t know dinner was ready and someone had to tell me.  For the first time, I didn’t nibble on the edges of every dish while offering to clean and put things away.  For the first time, I didn’t go back for more just because it was there.  The need was gone.

For the first time, I felt free and unencumbered by food in my parents’ house, all because I pre-packed one meal, and knew exactly what I needed in the second.  I didn’t bust out the scale, I didn’t scan any barcodes, and I didn’t guess if I was full or not.  I just knew.

And if that’s sad – then I’ll take it.  All day long.  It may be too rigid for you, and next week it may be too rigid for me, but for today?  It’s exactly what it’s supposed to be.