I believe that, deep within me, there is an athlete. I believe that, if I can somehow figure out how to find what I’m needing and lacking in this world, then I can start truly living. I believe that if I work at it, and figure out how to satisfy the unmet needs deep within me, I can stop using food as a cheap and ineffectual substitute. I believe that I am a different person when I am running regularly. I believe that if I can get the emotional shit to a manageable level, I can connect with my body and find that inner athlete. I believe that I can be a healthy and active adult. I believe that I can be strong and in-shape. I believe that I can be a runner. I believe that I could run a marathon someday, should I choose to do that.
I believe that it’s all in here somewhere, but for some reason I just can’t find it. It’s stuck in there beneath a whole lot of self-loathing, self-sabotage, and inability to find and accept the love that I truly deserve from myself or anybody else. I believe that I am an exceptional person. I am kind and I am smart. I am loving and generous. I am strong and independent.
This body has been through a lot, and I owe it to myself to find a way to connect to it in a healthy and loving way. I owe it to myself to get back to those beautiful sunny mornings running in the arboretum. And I deserve it, too.
And ideally, I’d like to do all this before it comes time for me to settle down and have babies. Ideally I’d like to do it in the next year or so. I know I cannot rush this though.
I just wish I knew where to start. I’m doing the therapy thing, and trying to figure out my relationship. I’m making an effort to reconnect with reality, though I am not always successful there. Should I make more of an effort to start running again? Or maybe just walking at this point?
It’s hard to make a commitment right now because I’m busy and have no energy and am falling apart every other minute.
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