on the woes of warriorhood

My will-power has turned into a never-ending game of championship ping pong.  It flips back and forth so quickly these days that even I have trouble deciding exactly where I'm at.  My determination is a blur of emotions set to waver, and nothing more.

The trouble aspect is that I've done this before.  Well, sure, the wavering part -- whatever, who hasn't?  The term yo-yo dieting didn't coin itself.  No, the trouble is that I have been strong before.  Undeterred.  Set resolutely to warrior mode, unable to be thwarted.

My mother brilliantly has told me, for as many years as I've been able to stomp my feet and wrinkle my nose, that I always accomplish every goal I set my mind to.  Bad or good, healthy or unhealthy, helpful or destructive.  And she's right.  I'm annoyingly strong, frustratingly opinionated, and righteously stubborn.  Once I dig my heels in, you may as well give up.  You've already lost.

Two years ago, when I was at my healthiest, I was able to dig my heels in against myself, of all things, and accomplish goals that had danced mockingly just out of reach for the majority of my life.  Pictures from that time now haunt me -- the tone of my skin, the strength in my muscle, the brilliance of the smile on my face.

I still want the same things, yet seem unable to recapture the same attitude.  Today, while talking with my assistant principal in her office, the tin of chocolates seemed to grow larger and larger while I contemplated how just one piece wouldn't really be all that detrimental in the long run.

In the end, I walked away unsullied by chocolate.

One small accomplishment that feels like offering one single drop of water to the desert.  Yeah.  How overwhelmingly helpful that would be.

But right now, all I can do is begin adding to the drops.  One workout, one more gram of protein, one less bite of pizza.  I feel like I should be carrying AA's Big Book around with me.

This is a battle.  Why don't I feel like a warrior anymore?

No comments:

Post a Comment