The Abyss

Settling in for a cup of freshly brewed coffee, my internal world relaxes. Upon waking my body is revved on guard as if living in a hut with vicious animals that want to devour me. My teeth are still clenched from the nightly demons who visit, and every sinew is taught.

But the heat from the fire begins its magic. Muscles unfurl, like the silly cat next to me who also melts like a wax blob, one half twisted out, the other half curled over the other, looking like a braided pretzel stick.

The onslaught for volumes of food after a week or more of scrupulously counting calories tells a story begun at age 8- I am unlovable, incapable. Love came at the end of a spoon, a form of escape fed by denial.

The sweetness of life drips like honey when staying in my body mastering emotions by being there when they ebb and flow. Because they do flow out eventually. Running into an escape, whether shopping, alcohol, drugs, or my rabbit hole- food, means leaving my body and its cues of physical hunger and satiation.

The craving for emotional satiation is only temporarily satisfied by external things. What can be counted on is emotional maturity fortified with emotional discipline. STAY. Sit, stay, and be there. I’m OK.

 

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