Gosh! This month is almost over! I think it’s been a good one. Full of trials and difficulties, but mostly full of optimism and effort. I love a new year— I’ve said that line so many times before. But… I love a new year. I love the renewed energy that I feel. I love getting a chance to start over. Even if it’s not actually starting over. What I have failed to do, though, year after year is start over without my demons. My… more human… humanness. I know that I can’t shake them. I know I must relearn life with them, in a way that doesn’t provoke them. Doesn’t stir them to action. My most adamant, most fervent, most fuck-with-my-head demon being my eating disorder. It’s strange. In my head an eating disorder was reserved for thin people. I don’t know why I never thought to classify my over-eating in the same shade of green? It’s green to me, of course. I knew that it was a not-so-secret big secret of mine. I knew that it made me feel shameful. Made me feel less than. I knew, without a doubt, all of that. The good news? Isn’t that really what this is about? The good news? I have not slayed the demon, of course, so please hold your fanfare. What I have done though is create a routine — this whole month — that has not been punctuated by over-eating. I have also not deprived myself of… well… anything. And I don’t intend to. I don’t intend to live a life of deprivation, I do intend to live one void of gluttony. It’s been a real mind fuck to learn the balance between the two though I know it shouldn’t be. You know I’ve lost weight this month. Great, right? But I’ve also perfected my very own onion and basil biscuit recipe? It’ll knock your socks off. I don’t think that I’ve ever spoken so openly about this? I don’t think that I’ve ever felt less shame than I do now. I’ll tell ya?
I love a new year.
30-something Mississippi queer. Bleeding heart with a soft spot for honesty and oversharing. Conquering corporate America and my own insecurities– one day at a time.