Flip sides

I am a good person.

I try not to judge or stereotype.  I always consider arguments from both points of view.  I am nice to everyone I meet until given reason not to be.  I listen to people when they talk, I don't just hear them.  I'm not wasteful or frivolous.  I find three good things in a person before I find one bad.  I can get along with almost anyone and make them feel comfortable.

I am a good person.

But I am an awful person.

I lie.  A lot.  I steal and cheat and generally disregard the law.  I can be extremely selfish.  I tend to hold grudges.  I get hurt easily when people mistreat me, even if accidentally.  I can be cruel and two-faced to the people I do not like.  I can destroy a person with my words and I have little patience for those less intelligent than me.  I hate children.

I guess this is humanity.

Corpus

"Your are a soul.  You have a body, but you are a soul.". -CS Lewis

My body is broken, my body's been wronged.  It's beat up and worn down and ought not have lasted this long.

But it has.

It's been endlessly forgiving, it's been more resilient than I deserve.  It's been disregarded but didn't ever desert

Me

Who am I?  What am I?

I am not the bones of my shoulders or the bulk in my middle,  I'm not the scars on thin skin or my hands, cracked and chiseled.  I'm not the flesh or the blood or the fat or the muscle; there's something more that holds me together.

A spirit. A soul.  A heart and a mind.  An opinion, a voice, a strength from inside.  It uses the vehicle my body provides, but it's worth is much greater than the girth of my thighs.

I'll leave this body, I'll leave it behind, I'll rise above it because I realize that I

Matter

Am matter.  But only for a time.  I'll take care of this matter that I used to despise.  Because I need this body, so brave and so true, I need this body so that I can do

Anything

Everything

So I can take on the world.  Conquer my fears and see that there's worth in

Me.

Just me.  Nothing more, nothing less.  I am perfect and worthy and deserving

so rest.

War

"How did you do it?"  They ask me, "how could you stand it?"

I'll tell you. 

It took determination.  It took grit and nerves of steel.  It took the power to transcend the physical and focus on only one goal, on only one ideal, and the willingness to forsake everything else in exchange. 

It took a cold heart and a clamped jaw.  A sacrificed identity and sullied reputation.  Ears that shut out the whispers, eyes that shut out the sight.  A mantra repeated day in and day out:

You are worthless, follow me.  I'll make you perfect, sanctified you'll be.

It took everything.

And it took everything. 

Yet it was nothing compared with trying to stop. 

Which begs me to ask...which battle is really the hardest to bear?  The battle fought of fear and self-loathing?  Or the battle fought of fear and desperation?  Or are they the same?  Both driven by terror at the ends of the other?

One in the body, one in the mind.  We'll fight to the death and I'll pray it's not mine.

Don't delude yourself, you ain't goin' nowhere

"Oh wow!  Caramelized bananas?!  How do you make that?!"

"Tahini and honey on sweet potatoes?!  That sounds so good, I'll add that to my list!"

"Avocado pudding?!  No way?!  I want to try that!"

Yeah, you do.  But you won't.  Because I know you, I know you're all talk, that you never man up and do it.  That you're too afraid to ever take a step.  That you're too scared to live your life.

Don't tell me what you want to do, I don't want to hear it.  You're a portrait of disappointments and a lifetime of fear.  I can't make you change and I know now you won't, so don't talk like you will.

Because that's the difference between me and you.  When I say something I do it, I step up and take the plunge, I take a breath and then leap off the edge.  I dive into the deep end without a flotation device, I walk into the dark without knowing what's ahead.  I take the risk between sink or swim, between life or death.  Sure it could end badly...but at least I fucking tried.

Don't come to me and whine, don't ask for my advice.  If you're unwilling to change then there's nothing I can do.  I'm not a genie and I'm not going to tell you you're okay, cuz you're not.  You're sick and you're stubborn and you're a scared little girl.

So put up or shut up.  It's time to move on.  Move it or lose it and leave me alone.

Racing

Sometimes I get so scared.

I try to run from my problems, I try to distance myself from them, but always I end up like a mouse on a wheel.  I run and I run and I run but they never leave, they never go away.  That darkness, that shapeless nightmare, it's always right on my heels, waiting for me to stop so it can swoop down and overtake me.  The moment I pause to catch my breath it's there, wrapping it's sheathing cloak around me.  I try to fight but it's too strong, I try to move but it's too late.  It suffocates me when I'm screaming for air, it binds me when I'm thrashing to be free.  It's always there, it's always there, never changing, never ceasing.

And so I don't stop.  I can't stop.  I run and I run and I run until my heart gives out, until my mind shuts off, until there's nothing left but oblivion.  I have no destination, I have no grand purpose, I have only the moment, the hour, the day after day.  The ground under my feet that passes so fleetingly away.  Never stop lest I break, never think lest I feel.  Never feel lest I hurt, and the hurt I can't bear.

Where is the end?

Gorge

If I weren't me I would hate me. 

Do you want to know why? 

Because I can EAT.  I can eat 3000 calories a day and not gain a pound.  I follow a meal plan that gives me three meals and three snacks.  600 calories, 300 calories, another 600, then 400 more, 800 for dinner, and another little 300 treat for dessert.  Do you know what that's like? Do you know how much food that is when you're eating healthy foods and not big macs and fries?

Let me tell you.

I start my day with a peanut butter and honey sandwich and a bowl of cottage cheese with diced melon.  And not a small bowl or only a drizzle of honey...I'm talking full servings here, usually more than.  Big bowls and double tablespoons.  None of this namby pamby "moderation" shit.

Then a couple hours later I'll have a bowl of oatmeal with a diced apple and peanut flour.  A big bowl of thick rolled oats and sticky peanutty protein.

Then a couple hours after that I have a chicken and swiss cheese sandwich with a heaping pile of cranberry sauce on the top, enough to soak through the bun and make it a big gooey platter of a sandwich.  With a side of steamed broccoli and cauliflower and a bowl of yogurt with raspberries, this consitutes my lunch. 

Give it a couple more hours and then I'll have a bowl of granola cereal with milk and blueberries.  Nothing fancy, but delicious.

Then for dinner I have a bowl of grilled shrimp with veggies and rice. And a peanut butter and banana milkshake.

A couple more hours and it's snacktime once more.  This time I have a piece of Godiva chocolate and large brownie with Nutella on the top.

It sounds nice doesn't it?  All that food?  Well, it is. And I need to eat even more cuz I'm still not gaining.  So be jealous...be jealous.

Have a nice day!

Don't look at me

I was in New Orleans, leaving a McDonalds on Canal Street.  It was large and busy, located on the border of the business and entertainment districts, and half-filled with clearly poor or homeless people.  My parents had just eaten lunch; an angus wrap for my mom, a Big Mac and fries for my dad.  I ate nothing.  My blood sugar was low, my body felt weak, I hardly had the energy to speak.  But they wanted to go to McDonald's, of all places, a place where there was not one thing on the menu I would eat.  As they threw away their wrappers and we edged around the crowd towards the exit, we passed a table of women eating their lunch.  I instinctually averted my gaze, but I could feel their eyes on me.  When I was a few feet away I heard one comment in a half-whisper, "that girl is so thin!". What her connotation behind this was, I don't know.  She sounded shocked above all else, not necessarily condescending or jealous.  But I turned around nonetheless.  I saw all five of the women at the table looking at me and I fixed my gaze on the one who had spoken.  For two seconds I locked eyes with her, packing as much venom into my nonverbal conveyance as possible, before I turned slowly towards the door and walked out of the restaurant. 

And people can't understand why I hate going out in public.