The following is a true story, and it starts off
with some pretty awful circumstances. I know because I was there...
10 years ago I tried to kill myself. It wasn't overtly
dramatic, or perhaps even all that obvious to others around me. Or, even to
myself. But, it was a slow-burn; an incessant chipping away at my vitality by
refusing to treat my body with care and respect.
2003-2004 was the culmination of a long sweeping,
gradually intensifying period of treating my body like a garbage can. Among the
worst of the offenses I rendered unto my flesh on a daily basis included:
purging (bulimia) after every meal,
smoking Newport 100 cigarettes, and drinking up to 3 liters of soda -- those
three actions are just the top of a much longer list of bad choices.
Other ways that I did not care for myself seemed
much more benign at the time -- not drinking much water, eating veggies 2 maybe
3 times a week but carb-loading constantly at meals, and exercising very
sporadically (like going to the gym every other day for 2 weeks, and then not
at all for 2 months). In retrospect,
these choices were just as detrimental to my health and well-being as the more
drastic measures of self-harm I was involved in.
While engaged in these behaviors I was constantly
tired, weak, frequently shaky/jittery, experiencing an almost constant
"gut-rot" feeling, frequent heartburn, numbness/tingling in my hands,
shortness of breath, dizziness, and feelings of detachment from the present
moments I was living. I was 19-20 years old, and my body (my life) was a
complete train-wreck.
...
A vision of masculine beauty and tender strength,
with piercing aqua eyes and shining vitality entered my painful, limping
existence in 2005. John helped me remember and experience sheer, unencumbered
joy and wonder. He seemed to move so effortlessly, and live so comfortably in
his skin.
Like all of life's most valuable teachers, he lead
by example. John ate what his body required -- even on a shoestring budget, or
via campus meals, he consistently made balanced food decisions. He drank water,
almost no soda or caffeine. And, he walked, ran, climbed trees, or biked as
often as possible. He didn't insist that I choose healthier options for my own
body, but he made them seem like the more attractive path.
If debate arose during our meal preparations, he frequently answered my questions or contentions or complaints with solid reasoning. And, if I showed hesitation, he was willing to hold my hand. He was patient, loving, and we got through it together. I was emotionally and psychologically worn out from self-imposed withering years that should have been full of the most exquisite sort of bloom, so I began to attempt to thrive.
One brief example I remember: I did not ever eat
peppers or onions until I met him and we started living together. The texture
of those vegetables scared me. It sounds silly now, but I refused to eat them
for over 2 decades. While eating our first cooked meals with these items, I
gagged several times. Initially, the taut but fleshy surface of the pepper, and
the ridged, filmy layers of the onion were difficult to swallow. They felt
awkward in my mouth, but they tasted so good, and offered many different ways
to be eaten! I persevered in my quest to slowly expand my vegetable repertoire,
and those are now two staple items in my fridge; among many other vegetables
and fruits that I had never even tasted before.
...
The road to recovery, to health and wellness, and to
enjoying nourishing foods has been long and rocky and sometimes unpleasant. But,
it has also been some of the most rewarding and pleasurable work that I've
chosen to engage. Some days I cry and whine, make poor choices, and scream
aloud in frustration. But, little by little and bit by bit I am learning how to
truly and deeply love myself; to be at peace with my story.
I sit here typing this as an almost wholly different
person from who I was 10 years ago. Now, I have my own successful business,
just completed 440 consecutive days of dancing and yoga (with no end in sight),
and am making a very promising effort to eat nutritious meals and healthy
drinks every day. But, I know with every fiber of my being, that I MUST CHOOSE
to make my goals, dreams, and desires my reality. And, I must work
every.damn.day. towards those ends.
We are made or broken by what we choose; find
happiness and joy or lack thereof. We decide what and how the journey will be. We
determine our own individual fate through choices, consequences, and changes.
