Fearless

I’m not feeling fearless…I’m fearful and uncertain…I’m worried that slips will become slides…I’m scared that I won’t care…I’m very much in an all-or-nothing world…this or that…eat or don’t eat…harm or don’t…choose recovery or don’t…I’m forgetting all the shades of gray…the next.right.step choices..not knowing what I actually need…And, as I battle myself over whether to do breakfast, an old post popped up from my FB page with the same name…I’ve attached the quote I’d shared…and, here’s my response to someone…

 

That little girl was one of the strongest fighters…I owe it to her to thank her for all her hard work and to let her know I am strong enough now to take the healing on myself and follow the treatment plan. I am a survivor…and I am so grateful that little girl fought…and that God didn’t let the adult me remember such horrible trauma until I was in a place to accept healing. (Jan 2014)

 

To get to wise mind, the question is often “What would I tell a friend?” or “What would X say?”…it helps me get out of my head and into a wise, compassionate place…As I read my description recognizing the “me” who was battered and abused, I remember that strength is there…that that little girl fought so hard to survive and who am I to starve her? There’s a wise part of me somewhere…I just need to find it.