If you ask anyone around here, they’d most likely declare me “a tough cookie”. Not your soft, chewy chocolate chip cookie; I’d be the mocha double chocolate, over baked to closely resemble a hockey puck that cracks your front teeth upon first bite. Aaah but then you realize that I’m not supposed to be bitten anyway, so taking the necessary time to come to terms and forgive yourself for mucking things up, we can from here on out become civil with the possibility of a beautiful friendship hanging in the atmosphere. I’m not one to try and blend in or hide away at a gathering, yet neither would I strive to be noticed. I’m perfectly comfortable doing my own thing and enjoying myself. I wouldn’t think twice to state my mind, often with mildly unfortunate consequences and to the embarrassment of others. That said, I like to believe that this “tough chick” hides a whimsically delicate interior – both literally and figuratively; a pondering mind, a deeply emotional soul, an artistic wild streak. And this is just me – without the ED. The me I love being…the me I embrace. I find my level of contemplation slowly and steadily evolving with my own growth. Starting off recovery the train of thoughts available for my brain to snatch at felt stifled and limited, but I’ve felt the progression of my mind broadening and deepening; observing it has brought a sparkle to my eye, a lightness to my heart. There’s always been an intense particular fear that has continually changed, along with myself. As anorexia would have it back then it was baseless, pointless anxieties over… well, food. Somewhere in there – the fear of change. The fear of failure. The fear of being a let-down. So for someone who is brave (the dark – nada, wild animals – nada, alone – nada, in a crowd – nada, on a ride – nada) there was always an inner fear concealed from people. Grateful indeed am I in having these fears dissolved as I’ve healed.
The other day I was taking some quiet morning time, and upon introspecting I encountered a new fear. I am afraid that in the growing noise of the world, I will cease hearing myself. In forming such a trusty bond between mind and body, I am afraid that amidst the probing, yells, and tidal waves of advice my inner voice and intuition will forever be at the risk of drowned into silence. Pressing my palms against the cool rock I was crouching on – the damp dewiness a comforting familiarity – I found consolation in reminiscing on the strong personality I am blessed to have grown into. I need not a guarantee to determine that I will not fall back…because the unbending faith is right there, even if sometimes I have to reach inside for it. There is so much noise I swear, but we’ve got to look within and use that momentum to see the world as it is out there. In that way we are able to make the best choices for ourselves. Always.
What cookie are you?