I told my therapist this week that I was praying to be willing to be willing to take the next step in my relationship with food. She thought a moment and then wondered aloud whether it was necessary to be willing or whether one could just jump? She went on to say that neither was better, just different ways of going about it.
I had thought that when I wrote the last couple of blogs that I was ready to let my current addiction focus go. But I have continued to buy and eat FrutStix although at a reduced pace. So I've been waiting to be ready.
Anna and I talked at length about what I'm waiting for. Out of the discussion and my thinking about since then have come these ideas: I'm waiting for it to be easy. I'm waiting for it to not hurt. I'm waiting to know exactly how to do something I don't know how to do. None of these things have much to do with willingness. They have to do with fear. Or conversely, they have to do with courage.
I'm not talking about a diet or abstaining from some other particular foods. I'm talking about giving up going numb. Not using food or work or Netflix or novels to save me from myself.
What I feel lies ahead is an abyss, a sort of black hole, a midnight-inky desert of monsters and pain. The overeating and overworking and over-watching and over-reading keep me in the borderlands. Anna is encouraging me to find the courage and the resolve to set out on the journey into and through this part of myself. So that I can come out the other side.
I'm finding it hard to do that without knowing in advance what lies on that other side.