Shame V Pride

So.
Anyone notice how I start a lot of my posts with "so," SO annoying.
But for serious.

So, I haven't been ok, but really good at pretending I am.
At least I'm falling for it.

I'm in a glass case of emotion.

And it fucking sucks a fatty.

One minute I'm Frosted Flakes grrreat and the next I'm literally on the floor trying to physically get rid of the shame I feel.

 He Did This Just For You by Max Lucado is a  bit of literature I cannot get enough of. I reread his words and learn something new from them, like it's the first time I'm reading it.

Pride and Shame is a portion of the writing that comes to my mind tonight. "Pride boasts. Shame hides. Pride seeks to be seen. Shame seeks to be avoided."

These sister emotions have been having a fucking rager in me this past month.

When I thought I had a control on my drinking and my eating, Pride was everywhere. I thought I was "FIXED." Welp, it's safe to say I was wrong.

Shame is who I'm kickin it with right now. She sucks. She can't stand who she is, she can't stand that she can't stop feeling this way, she's embarrassed that she keeps fucking up even though she doesn't want to, she's sick of herself and her excuses...so she wants to punish herself-and she does.

She tortures her mind with negativity, that's all consuming but puts on a smile on the outside.

Today, I was invited to lunch after church with the sweetest, funniest lady and her friend. I went and got the bright idea to get a fatty fried fish sandwich, french fries and key lime cheesecake knowing all the while that I was going to go home and throw it up.

God gave me signs to stop. Both the women I was with talked about how a heavy meal wouldn't sit well with the heat, they got salads and soup. I could have opted for that. The waitress said they didn't have my initial burger choice, therefore trying to deter me from eating something I knew I shouldn't.
The woman I was with offered to drive me to work so I could stay later and enjoy their company but then I couldn't go home and throw up.

I CHOSE TO DO WHAT I DID. I WANTED TO...even though I didn't.

So I proceeded with the ritual of being ok when I'm really fucking not. I asked the right questions, was charming at the table and politely excused myself until I couldn't stand the toxin in my body anymore.

I got home burst through the door and did my best to get rid of the meal she so kindly bought me. Hating myself more and more with every heave.

I looked at the clock, time to go to work, the pretending starts over again.

But it didn't have to stay.

God once again reached out to me and this time I took it. I confided in my coworker, and moreover my friend. She let me vent, she gave me someone else to reach out to.

No sooner did I leave her did I get two texts from two other major support systems...reminding they care about me even if I don't.

I chose to be honest with them with where I'm at. Relief flooded me.

Lastly, my friend who I adore and admire, called me about 15 minutes ago. We talked about some good things and not so good things. The main thing was that we talked. I didn't hide, shame didn't get the best of me.

I may not always, but I'm getting the hang of it, this caring about myself thing.

While I'm powerless over my addictions I am the only one who can chose to get help. If I don't ask for help, if I am not willing to take the steps, however small, towards a better life I cannot expect and will not get one.

Tomorrow I go to the Moore Center in Bellevue. I really don't want to but so far what I've wanted to do hasn't worked out.

XOX