Brace Myself, Face Myself

All last night, I was sick with anxiety and the growing expectation that I was about to lose my job today.

It didn’t happen, but I felt myself brace up like I was facing a rising tsunami of yet another obstacle in my ever-changing life.

Already formulating a plan financially and loading my resume like a gun.

But the day came and went. No disaster. No need for relief.

Not yet.

I’m still not at ease. I came home and restlessly let hunger overtake me before the wave of guilt. That wave of guilt brought my finger to my throat and the cycle starts over.

I decide to do 100 squats. Yes, that will fix it. That will dissuade the guilt.

It didn’t.

On top of aching leg muscles, I have stabbing cramps thanks to this monthly reminder that I’m not pregnant. A blessing and a curse.

Today made me realize that the storm is always so much greater in my head, making me respond to the imaginary treat of further trauma with self-fulfilling defenses.

What it’s blinding me to is the reality that I have much more control and power over my life than I really feel I do. Not every red flag is real.

And yet, that hasn’t stopped me from acting recklessly at times, allowing my impulses to test the waters of danger with almost oblivious abandon meanwhile I am completely aware of the risks.

So while I am being severely hard on myself and defining my value through the half-shut eyes of others, I have been so desensitized by fear that I crave the intensity of living without boundaries.

I am trying to keep my hormonal imbalances in check. I am trying to address every negative thought, every mood change, every idea of perpetual doom while letting it consume me. I am trying to box my cravings and list every calorie while berating myself for lacking the energy to make it to the gym during a drearily grey week.

I am trying.

Still, after exploring much of my grotesque behavior from just last year in the midst of my addiction, I have come to the conclusion that I could be much worse than I realize. I sometimes have flashbacks to people I’ve crossed paths with that I could have followed and taken a deadly turn.

I need to be thankful to myself, that as much as I enjoyed fanning the flame of temptation, I sometimes had the wherewithal to know real danger where it was present.

I need to be gracious with myself, after such a brutal winter I cannot simply bounce back to my drug-addled physique.

I need to be realistic with myself and know that my mind is a reverse mirror of sorts, monster may appear larger than they really are.

And I need to stop bullying myself for not being the one they wanted.

Maybe they weren’t what I wanted, after all.

Maybe they wouldn’t have filled that void the same way my array of snacks never did mid-way through my gorging.

Maybe I’m just too tired to keep wrestling with the pain and let it sink in finally: I am depressed. I am sad. I am upside down most of the times, and doing my best but it never feels like enough.

I don’t want to live my life like this, volatile and insatiable. A Phoenix can only die so many times.