All my life, I thought something would happen to me that would finally motivate me to get healthy. I thought I would wake up one day like my sister did and decide to become a vegetarian marathon runner. While I never envisioned myself becoming this skinny person, I thought one day I would simply have enough of morbid obesity and do the work to become a little closer to an average size. When I realized I wanted a baby, I thought this was the moment I was waiting for. Finally, there was a reason important enough to do the work. I tried. It's difficult for me to say that I tried hard because "trying hard" for me always means accomplishment. I try hard and I succeed. But this time, I did try. I tried harder than I ever had before. And I failed. If I can't get healthy for my baby, how can I do it at all?
Last week out of nowhere, I had an epiphany. This whole thing, I always thought it was about losing weight or feeling healthier. It's not about that at all. It's about control. I don't have it. I am powerless when it comes to food.
Alas, step one in OA--realizing your powerlessness. I believe I am finally ready to do that and to find the strength and control that I need in the program and the support system it provides.
Fuck, typical of me. The perfect way for me to finally lose weight is to talk and talk and talk until my throat hurts. And goddamn, you know I love me some therapy. I've been in and out of it since I was 12. Talking to strangers has always been easy for me. Strangers can't hurt you. In addition to OA meetings, I will also be starting group therapy for eating disorders. Monday has officially become my spa day. 10 am is my meeting, 6:30 pm is group. While spas don't normally drain you emotionally and give you homework, you gotta put a positive spin on it and not let yourself think of the lifetime of work you have ahead of you to just be a normal goddamn eater. One day at a time. This journal is officially my OA story.