Me, Myself and I…

There is a part of me that will always want to jump cannonball style off the diving board, earplugs in, nose pinched and eyes tightly closed landing into a giant pool of what I have always known to be my salvation. Food. I am a food addict and I am not above relapse, I am not above bad choices and the past 14 days have been the hardest ones for me so far in the last 13 months. I could lie, I could pretend and I could just go on and write about John Wayne getting adopted, about falls arrival, or how Tristan is struggling. Here is the truth, I am struggling. ME. I want to be normal, I want to not think about it, have it not saturate every decision of my day. What am I going to eat, when am I going to eat it, and how many damn calories does it have? Do I say no to going out for dinner with friends, a polite no thank you to drinks, pizza and a movie.  I am sick, I have a sickness and when it gets to much will the remedy be what sets me free or what sits me down.

When I look to Lindsey for redemption, or beg Lauren to pull me from the drive-thru wreckage, my body riddled from the scars of what it has done to me already. If I shout it to the world as loud as I can will the pain stop or will it spin madly on in my head so full of doubt , seemingly only a flicker of hope remains at times. Is it enough?  How much farther do I have to travel to not have another fist fight with myself on this dirt road paved of candy bar wrappers and styrofoam containers. In the end the answers are so very blurry as I try to see what comes next, Crisco wiped lenses of vivid nothingness. I should learn to keep my eyes closed when I am under water. In the end I only have myself to blame, only myself to lean on and only myself to propel me forward to take just one step more, one day more, one meal more where I find hope in something, someone around me.

I will not go back. Not one second more will I think about the darkness, think about the pain,  about the two years since my life has never been the same. How much time must pass before the echo of goodbye does not ring in my head every minute of every day. I do not know, but I must move forward from this place, with all my might I drag myself forward, just a bit, just an inch, just enough to look back and see the two footprints behind me.

Coming back from lunch I saw myself as I walked past a mirrored window of a shoe repair store. The only person who can stop the amazing  journey I am on is me.

I struggle to move forward, no matter what it takes.


1 Comment

  1. Naomi says:

    As usually, an incredibly brave, honest, and insightful post. We are all the sum total of our experiences, bad, good, failures, and successes. Will the “old”Lori be gone forever? Would you really want her gone forever? She is a beautiful person who has changed her life and so many livea around her. The “new” Lori is the old Lori who has changed. Changed in so many ways. And don’t we always have to remember history to learn from it, to not repeat it? Yes, we change, but we have to always remember, no matter how painful, who we were before that change. And the change is the strength that you have now to fight the good fight, to treat yourself with the respect and love you deserve. Every day, from now on. You are strong, and you will continue to be strong. Addiction is such an immense pull on our desires, the “bad voice” on our shoulder. But YOU have the strength to continue to face the addiction and punch it right in the face. You’ve got this!

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