A Mess in Progress
It hit me today. For years I was an emotional mess because I was stuck. Stuck in a stagnant mess of coping mechanisms that I don’t even hate some days because I realize their purpose.
I needed them in order to get through the day. Without my bingeing, restricting, compulsive exercise and OCD I would have broken THE FUCK DOWN. But with them, I got out of a toxic relationship, raised my kids as a single mom with next to zero financial, physical or emotional support from their father. I held down a job and respect from colleagues and friends. I created a life for us. A happy, loving, nurturing little family unit where my kids had security. So for that I say thank you to my binges that kept me up into the night and on the toilet half the day. I say thank you to the exercise that kept me looking good on the outside but crumbling underneath. I say thank you to my food restrictions for helping me to stay in control while everything else was so fantastically out of control. Thank you all for keeping me STUCK in a state of messy survival. I needed you.
But now I’m done. I see you for what you were and I see now where I’m going. I don’t want you. I don’t need you. I can do this without you. But I’ll always understand you.
The thing is I might STILL be a mess sometimes. I might falter, jump ahead, bounce around, sidestep or even take a break from progress. Like a lay the fuck down and take a goddamn break, break. But the difference is I’m a mess in motion and even the breaks have purpose. I can see myself. I can feel the changes in me. The work is messy emotional turmoil and non-linear, exhausting self reflection. Messy SHIT.
Oddly enough though, it feels REALLY GOOD. If a mess in progress is where I need to be for a minute here in this lifetime, I’ll be it and I’ll move with it. I won’t fight it. Fighting it broke me down, got me stuck. But I’m here now. Here in this moving mess of progress is where I’ll happily stay. It feels a lot better than 5000 calories or 5 miles on the treadmill ever did.