There is something very painful about KNOWING this work is emotional and then putting hope into yet another physical “plan”. Call it whatever you want… it’s always another fucking diet. After several very obsessed days, I finally came to this: I have a choice to either buy into my struggle as Purely Physical, meaning I invest all of my time and energy into proper diet and exercise with no slips — OR — I go within, to where the struggle began, where the emotional architecture was erected in my childhood, and I fix it THERE. When I feel the craving to fill an emptiness that food will NEVER satiate, I must, at that moment, get still and feel the very pain that created the need for that physical mask.

I used to be a drug addict. Now that I no longer have that crutch, I’ve cycled through sex, alcohol, compulsive exercising, and the old stand-by of food, all to help me through when I don’t want to feel my feelings. I think I’ve even used an obsession with fairness as a crutch, as I still go back and choreograph a fight that will show the world all of the injustices I’ve faced, rather than just letting go.

So, just as I felt an amazing amount of fear recently, and made myself, “Just shut up,” every time I tried to obsess about it; I must now do the same when I want to use anything other than REALLY FEELING THE FEELINGS when I’m in pain. Damn it, it was HUGE for me to come off of pain killers, and I really didn’t think that I had substituted something else in their place. To realize that I have — this is a very painful thing. But it makes so much sense as I to why I’ve attracted people in my life this past year who will lead me to addictive behavior. They’ve been protecting me from doing the real work.

As hard as it is to be truly AWARE and as easy as it is to choose NOT to deal with my pain (God, I know sooo many ways to avoid it), I now know that I MUST “go there”. If I do not, I am no better than the junkie I was 19 months ago. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to stay an addict for ten years. It’s “the devil you know” syndrome.

Point is, I REFUSE to let the terror of being AWARE consume my spirit. I WANT to deal with my shit. I really do. And that means, as hard as it is to say, that I cannot bargain my way out of an emotion. Not with a drug, not with food, not with anything. I chose this path. And damn it, I am going to walk upon it. I am going to face the very fears that caused me to pop the first non-pain-killing pain pill. I am going to face what caused me to stop eating in 1985. I am going to face the lies that created my childhood reality. And, for the love of God, I am going to scream out loud that BEING FAT DOES NOT PREVENT ME FROM BEING RAPED. It’s time to let go of this protective armor. Because it’s really not protecting me at all. It’s only giving me the illusion that I am safe. (Because if I hate myself, then men who would rape me will hate me too… and never try to take me.) The TRUTH is, if I hate myself, then I attract negativity — since, “why would some slob like me ever deserve anything good?”

I could use a zillion clichés to describe this feeling. But the best thing I can say right now is this: I am committed to doing the hard work that goes with being present every moment of my life. I will no longer medicate away my pain with ANYTHING. This doesn’t mean I cannot drink or have sex or zone out with the television or eat ice cream. What it means is, I will visit the feeling FIRST. Then, after doing the work, if I still desire the DRUG, it’ll be a reward for a job well done — not a way to escape the work in the first place. What’ll you bet I end up needing “it” next to never?

Thank you, God, for your infinite wisdom, and for giving me peace and the clearest signals that I am on the right path EVERY DAY… as long as I stop to look.