I have disappeared. That's evident to anyone who has checked the date on my most recent blog post, a whiny, self-indulgent complaint fest dedicated to Valentine's induced self-pity. But I've disappeared in more ways than that. I've dropped out of my life, fallen away from my goals and my interests and stepped outside of myself and into a shadowy apathy.
I have begun to understand why. I have allowed anguish to wash over me and to pull me out of the world. I have struggled with a desperation and longing that made anything else in my life seem banal. I couldn't begin to remember why I had ever cared about weight loss, my education or anything outside of my all encompassing obsession with an imperfect idol. I am only guilty of wanting something I could never have and being unable to let go of that desire. I feel like a ghost today. I have become so different from the woman who went for what she wanted and believed in her power to better her circumstances. She has dissolved in the useless tears she has shed.
Now that those tears have dried, I believe that they have left behind some trace of her that I can gradually gather and reform. I'm so tired of crying. I'm not that person or at least I never used to be. I'm ashamed that I seem to have been waiting to be fixed with the magical belief that if my one supreme prayer should be answered, everything else would fall into place. Nonsense.
I needed a wake up call. And I got it from an unexpected source...my bank. Or at least my former bank. I recently changed banks. I switched my direct deposit but never closed the old account. Apparently, my Paypal was still attached and Weight Watchers was still deducting because they didn't get the memo that I was too full of self pity to follow the program. Naturally, I received a notification when the charge bounced back and suddenly remembered who I used to be and who I still hope to become. It's true that there are things in my life that will never be the way I want them to be, people who will just never be there and things I can't have. There isn't much of which I am actually in control. However, I am in control of the decisions that I make about my body. I am ready to reclaim that power.
Thank you to everyone who has checked in with me. It means a lot that people have cared even when I found it hard to myself. You people rock my socks. Truly.