Recovery
I think I have actually, and finally dipped my feet into the shallow waters of recovery. I know that I have to wade out there, over my head to finally be free from this. I will struggle and at times I will just want to swim back to "safety."
The act of letting go is not easy. It is something completely new to me. It is unlike "giving my life to Christ" or "laying my fears down." It is much harder than those things, which I have done in my past. There is something that draws me back to darkness again and again. Sadly to say, there is something very beautiful about despair. Something beautiful about emptiness. Something tempting and secretive, mysterious and radiant.
It is my perception of "beauty" that is greatly skewed. I see thin, malnourished, depressed women as "beautiful." It is not just me. I work with several women, all very thin themselves, some more preoccupied with their weight than others. Undoubtedly, their perceptions of themselves are also skewed. I put in an effort to never say, "I'm so fat. I'm disgusting. I'm such a pig. I can't believe I just ate that. Etc. etc. etc. (all those familiar phrases)" in front of other women. It is catchy. One woman starts talking negatively about her body and all others respond with "Oh I know. I feel so nasty today too."
Yet, I still think those things in my head. It is not until I tell myself, "I am beautiful! I am strong! I am compassionate! I am talented!" on a daily basis that I will be able to help other women recover from their own horribly skewed perceptions. I know that hating myself is wrong. Self-hate keeps me at the shore, it keeps me from swimming out, it keeps me far from danger, risk, and discovery. It keeps me from reaching the lost on the other side. This island that I must reach. These women who are starving, lost, alone and just praying for someone to come and save them. To give them purpose and meaning. To give them hope. To help them feel beautiful and feel loved.
The act of letting go is not easy. It is something completely new to me. It is unlike "giving my life to Christ" or "laying my fears down." It is much harder than those things, which I have done in my past. There is something that draws me back to darkness again and again. Sadly to say, there is something very beautiful about despair. Something beautiful about emptiness. Something tempting and secretive, mysterious and radiant.
It is my perception of "beauty" that is greatly skewed. I see thin, malnourished, depressed women as "beautiful." It is not just me. I work with several women, all very thin themselves, some more preoccupied with their weight than others. Undoubtedly, their perceptions of themselves are also skewed. I put in an effort to never say, "I'm so fat. I'm disgusting. I'm such a pig. I can't believe I just ate that. Etc. etc. etc. (all those familiar phrases)" in front of other women. It is catchy. One woman starts talking negatively about her body and all others respond with "Oh I know. I feel so nasty today too."
Yet, I still think those things in my head. It is not until I tell myself, "I am beautiful! I am strong! I am compassionate! I am talented!" on a daily basis that I will be able to help other women recover from their own horribly skewed perceptions. I know that hating myself is wrong. Self-hate keeps me at the shore, it keeps me from swimming out, it keeps me far from danger, risk, and discovery. It keeps me from reaching the lost on the other side. This island that I must reach. These women who are starving, lost, alone and just praying for someone to come and save them. To give them purpose and meaning. To give them hope. To help them feel beautiful and feel loved.
posted by Sara at 7:37 PM
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