How To Break A Habit

How does one break a habit?
An automated response?
Those things you don’t even think about, they just play out as so…
Because it’s what you recognise.
It’s familiar.
Comfortable.
Known.
Often destructive.
Because for some reason,
You feel you deserve it.
I deserve it…

Something happens.
A broken expectation.
Thwarted intention.
Misaligned action.
Occurence.
Not truth.
But something.

This happened tonight.
In fact, a number of times over the past few weeks.
Or week rather.

Someone says something.
Or does something.
Behaves in a certain way and it get’s under your skin.
Pushes a button.
A trigger.
A response goes off in your head, it’s a pattern.
Familiar.
In my head.

It tells me — 
You’re not enough.
Of course this happened.
What did you expect?

Perhaps your picking up on the situation.
Perhaps it is triggering the familiarity in your situations.

And this response…
Here’s the way it goes —

An event.
Said.
Done.
Heard.
There’s upset.
Fury perhaps.
Let down.
Rejection.

And then a desperate search for where to put that energy.
That event.
How to cope.
It’s a pattern.
You’ve seen this before.
And you know how it goes.
How you go.
The autopilot.

Alcohol.
Food.
Exercise.
A bet.
A purchase.
Sex.
Perhaps yours is something else.
Once upon a time mine was inflicted harm.
Starvation.
Abuse.

And tonight, searching for how to cope,
My mind immediately searches for food.
To fill a hole.
Obviously not physical.
Emotional.

It searches for movement.
Not in the nurturing way,
It’s a punishment.
Deserved.

It searches for men.
It’s familiar.
Validating.
For some reason, a leftover of what I still feel I’m worth.

Fuck.

But here’s the thing.
Tonight I’ve caught it.

This response.
This autopilot.
This desperate search to escape.
I’ve caught it.
And I’m observing the way my brain is ticking over.
Searching for the pattern.
The learned behaviours.
The comfort.
The justification.
Release.
Escape.
To this trigger.

And instead I find myself here.
I didn’t intend for this to be about me, but how can it not?
A fly on the wall.
Fingers across the keyboard.
Mind in a fluster.
Desperate for an out.

Breathe.

It’s a challenge.
A chance for me to choose.
To grow.
To learn.
Move forward.
In every moment.
Forward.

Without reaching for sugar.
The gym.
Sex.

Without spiralling into conversation of how I deserve this.
Or don’t deserve.
Or will always attract.
Misalign.
Trust.

But rather.
Breathe.

This too shall pass.
And this win.
Is a win.

A pass.
I get to win.
And though small, it’s realignment.
A moment where I get to choose.
To press reset.
Reframe.
Rewire.
I get to choose.

These familiar patterns.
These habits.
Ways I cope…

In every moment.
I get to choose.

Exhale.

Perhaps this is the point where something that previously a habit,
A mechanism to cope.
To breathe…
Becomes a choice.

Perhaps in this space, it’s up to you.

At what point do these behaviours,
Habits,
Perhaps at once, addiction,
Do they become safe?
Ok.
Is it never?
These familiarities.
Better to be left alone.
Safer.
Or is it in this space to choose,
That actually,
It’s up to me.

Not a familiar behaviour.
Not a desperate throw at survival.
To cope.

But perhaps,
In this choice,
Food,
Exercise,
Sex…
Is ok in and of itself.
Without the guilt.
Abuse.

And maybe this is justification…

I don’t have an answer.

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