BLE: parts work during the holidays

 This morning another Bright Lifer posted a memory from her FB feed that really struck home for me. It was a Drew Carey quote,  "Eating crappy food isn't a reward -- it's a punishment." And while this has been said many ways in slightly different forms by many others, for some reason these particular words were like an arrow to my heart.

Because I do think that part of my eating is punishing myself, keeping myself from being happy. Because I do feel that I have done horrible things, and often at the end of the countless discussions I've had with myself about whether or not to eat something, the bottom line is that it doesn't matter because really I don't care about life anymore.  Or that I don't deserve to be anything other than what I have become. That I am the result of my past actions.

I took a hard look at myself this morning and am proud to say I don't believe that anymore. If I have self inflicted blame for the parts of my life I am ashamed of, haven't I paid enough already? Isn't it about time I let myself out of jail? 

So I will use that question today if faced with a food decision, 'Why do I want to punish myself?" I have known my whole life that I am a 'good' person at heart, at my very core, and that the times I fell short would easily be explained away by others as me just being being human. Or some such rationale. The latest shortcoming revolves around the death of my son. That I didn't model a better example, that I wasn't there for him while he was struggling in school. That I divorced his father. Just writing these things makes me so sad, and tearful, and full of regret. But it will have been 17 years this coming February, and living a small sad life in no way serves his memory. I know that.

The great thing about parts work is that I can now feel these feelings, and let them wash over me, consume me even, and know that it's temporary. And that once they are gone I will still be here, and that I will not be destroyed.  It's sort of like the 'Litany against fear' in the Dune saga, but I can substitute Grief for Fear.  " And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see it's path. Where the grief has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."  But more than that, hopefully I can reach the part of me that has remained moored in the grief, and give her some love and compassion. Maybe even do some healing.

This morning I have hope for a great holiday season. For maybe even some golden sunset years if I can keep doing the work.