I'm laying in bed thinking about turning points. What it would mean to take the on-ramp back to the road of recovery I was on a month ago. To let go of the security blanket called dieting, the cure-all pill, and the fix-it exercise plan.
I don't know, maybe it was realizing I may actually need a higher level of care, that I wasn't able to get sleep and on schedule by myself, that caused me to start thinking about this. Having other's intervene for me feels so much easier than being an adult about it. I don't want to be a grown up. BUT, if I don't try to put in the work myself, try and get my body on schedule, I can't justify asking for what I need from professionals. It's in this that I'm looking at this turning point.
If I were sitting in a room right now looking at the turning point of my life I would describe it as malleable and firm at the same time. Once I decide to take it, I can't afford to turn back. Besides that, there would be nothing to turn back to. I can see it and I know it has the potential to be a friend. It has the potential to free me. It can change me for the better, if I only let it.
But I'm scared. I don't want to leave behind my childhood security blanket, my cure-alls, and fix its. It's the only way back to the body I had before march 2009. The body I had that was thin and beautiful, when life was going ok. I'm scared to let go of the things that actually hurt me because there's the hope they will still get me to where I wish I had never left. It's so hard to realize, in this bout of illness I let go of a wonderfully beautiful body. and I'm left with this.
I can't let this be the focus of my life. I need a cause that doesn't encompass my disorder. I want to be able to feel the glamorous romance and adventure this journey could be, if only I chose to let go and jump.
"This may be the turning point your grandchildren will tell stories about years from now: the time you leap over the abyss to the other side of the Great Divide and begin to live your life in earnest. On the other hand, this moment of truth may end up being nothing more than a brief awakening when you glimpse what's possible on the other side of the Great Divide, but then tell yourself, "Nah, that's waayyy to far to jump." In that case, your grandchildren will have to be content talking about what delicious cookies you used to bake or what your favorite sports team was. It will all depend on how brave you'll be. Rob Brezsny