It's amazing how much better you feel, emotionally and physically, when you eat well. I know this. You know this. And yet, for some reason, there's such a resistance to doing so. Why wouldn't we want to feel better?
The answer has become more and more clear to me with each passing year. For me, I don't eat well because, deep down, I don't want to feel better because I don't think I deserve to feel better. That, I believe, is the underlying reason. There is, of course, also addiction.
Having to battle both of these demons is hard. It's exhausting. It's painful. And because it's hard, exhausting and painful, I've reverted back to my old habits time and time again. Apparently, it's so much easier to hate myself than love myself.
It's been a good week so far. Not good in terms of work and relationships and such. But good in terms of ... peace. I'm eating well. I'm walking every other day with bouts of jogging. I'm doing Lenten devotions each morning. I'm working hard at work and sleeping well at night. And I'm making myself think about where this self-hatred, self-sabotage comes from.
I even wore a new dress yesterday that I would never have worn without this feeling of peace inside me. (Horizontal stripes around the hips...that says it all.) It was cute but definitely accentuated my wideness. My thought was, "I am what I am. This dress is cute. I'm going to wear it with confidence." And I did (ish. There were still moments of feeling self-conscious but I tried to nip the internal criticism).
I don't know what tomorrow brings. I don't know if something will happen that will make me snap and revert back to the depressed state that squashes the peace. But I am so grateful for these few days that give me hope.