First Day Away From Home: Epiphany

Yesterday I borrowed my friend's car, as I normally do on Fridays, for errands, etc. It was the first day since Lent began that I've been away from the house. I didn't feel prepared, partly because my my evening routine isn't solid, yet, and I hadn't set out all the things I'd need for the day.

I had *tried* to plan my food, but got stuck. Didn't know where I'd be at lunch time...decided just to record it as I went and hope for the best.

On the food level, it went just okay. No binges (no weight loss this morrning, either), but I did *not* record everything and I had that old "out of control" feeling that makes me want to go *completely* out of control.

So on a purely logistical level, I learned that I am correct in believing that faithfulness to my routines is the key. No matter what, do the prep work.

On a deeper level, I spent a good part of the day in the car, with lots of time to think and observe my emotions. I was irritable, fearful, anxious, even resentful, by turns. "What is WRONG with me??" was the question of the day.

Here's the best answer I could find, and I think it's important to my recovery. For whatever reason, I do not want seem to want to ENGAGE. I don't want to be deeply involved in other people. I don't want to care...about anything. In everything I do, I seem to maintain an odd *distance* from it.

I've partly done that through food -- eating gives me something else that I'm doing, rather than being completely involved in the people and events I'm in contact with. If I'm always eating...thats what I'm doing. It's a sort of shell, a way that I can show up do the right thing (or the thing I choose, whether right and wrong is even an issue)...but not be completely there. Even when I'm not eating at the moment, overeating and eating junk food has kept me in enough of a haze that I'm never fully engaged.

Maybe that's part of the jittery feeling I experienced the other night. I was a turtle without its shell -- even at home alone, I was in danger of completely engaging in the work I was doing, or the housework. I think that's where the "stuck" feeling comes from, the "need" for "transition time." It takes me forever to become willing to even *do* the next thing, let alone put my heart into it.

I could spend time analyzing *why* I'm this way, and could write pages and pages about where it began, and I could see where that might be valuable in some cases...but I think I've done a lot of that work, and all I'm really interested in right now is where the process has left me. I'm here now, feeling afraid and resentful of engaging in the people, places, activities and events that mean a lot to me. Where do I go from here?

I think the answer is to stay the course. Continue to throw off the shell, let it make me uncomfortable, continue to observe and understand and forgive myself for it all, and see what beautiful things come of the reversal of this weird disorder.

Yesterday, that meant sitting at a laundromat really reading the book in my hands, instead of accompanying it with a candy bar and a soda. It meant kissing my mom and smiling at her, even when I was just running up to her door to get the cell phone I'd left behind earlier.

This morning, it meant setting my timer before I got out of bed, to push myself into the first step in my day. It also meant observing myself and talking out loud to myself when I tumbled back into bed halfway through the morning routine.

And right now it means obeying the alarm that just went off, and going to get myself some breakfast.