The sap must be rising, because my eyes keep leaking. On the verge of tears these days, a commercial can set me off about some non-crying thing and away I go, boohooing again, with streaks on my cheeks. Also, I was so anxious yesterday as I performed tasks that I am competent at, although it involved dealing with strangers. I am always leery of random people, I have good reason, but that’s another story. But this is out of character for me. Its not like me to be timid, to trip over my tongue when talking to strangers or to feel so fragile.
I realize that in reading about how to cope with my issues, in the book that my boss, Michelle Morand wrote (Food is not the problem- Deal with What is!) I am learning things that are making my internal censor incensed. He’s kicked it up a notch and the infernal belabouring has increased to fever pitch. I notice that I over-analyze, read too much into things, second guess myself, talk myself out of things that I need like to go for a walk, before I’ve even solidified the thought. I seem to have a black cloud over me that makes me be a negative nelly about anything. And don’t let me hear that the bears are skinny in the Great Bear Rainforest. I carried THAT bit of grief around all week when I found out about it.
Normally I would note the ecological travesty and then get on with my life, but for some reason, these days, as I process the things from my misbegotten past that have given me enough grief to pad my self with this much excess, I am noticing that I not only have to deal with loose cannons in my physical world, but that I have a loose cannon in my own mind, as the Drill Sergeant has amplified his messages, deepened his nosiness and is acting like he’s on steroids.
What I’m thinking, is that this stuff is working. All the work I’m doing internally as I process the CEDRIC philosophy, is making the creature that drives that negating commentary and judgment in my mind nervous enough to feel he needs to step up his game because he’s LOSING me!!! That means, although my clothes are still stretched to their limit with the ebb and flow of my bloating and puffiness and discordant chub, I see a light wayyyyyyyyy off in the distance. The light of the promises that I have taken from doing CEDRIC work, that promise me (with the proof of seeing how Michelle and others have used the philosophies and succeeded) I will stop relying on old patterns of nutritional intake and activity and that the weight will fall away in its own time, just as it packed on, until I become a weight that is efficient for my body frame. And in the meantime, the promise of self acceptance even now, as I am at the extreme of my body weight.
So give it what fer, Drill Sergeant. There’s organic juice sending enzymes into me that are turning my body from a slow and sodden wasteland to a vital and vibrant vista, my eating habits have changed, my metabolism is adjusting and I know that things are starting to be different in my life as a result of all these newfound skills.
Mr. Drill Sergeant, its over. The love affair (she says sarcastically) you tried to interest me with, trying to be all authoritative and bossy like my Mother… Well, I want you to be nervous because you are OUT and in your place, I am accepting a kind, gentle internal voice that comes from my heart, not from the dark recesses behind my packed and purging colon where one would surmise you must lurk.
You had your chance to see the error of your hurtful and diminishing ways, but I no longer accept that kind of behaviour. I have learned about healthy boundaries and my rights, and you cross the line of both of those. I know that I can put up a barrier to keep myself safe from being exposed to the caustic comments that you interject to blindside and make me feel inadequate. And the disrespectful, both in my real world and in my mind, are not invited. I know too, that I have the basic human right of dignity, and anything that contributes to the erosion of that can kiss the part of my anatomy the colon leads to.
So take a bit of your own medicine, you hurtful, unhappy Drill Sergeant in my mind. Its no different than when I was raising children who were disrespectful. You don’t know how to act, you don’t get to be a part of the action.
Maybe this ranting purge will quell that dismissive dialogue and I can get on with the business of entering my future with new ideas, new tools and a brighter, new outlook that has the Drill Sergeant banished, and the complimentary, sincere and loving internal dialogue I desire, in its place so that I can get past the skinny bears, my tendency to be over critical and stop this urge to cry.
If it takes a few tears as my hormones adjust, so be it.
Tina Budeweit-Weeks is a member of the CEDRIC Success Team in the role of staff writer and executive assistant for Michelle Morand. Her philosophy has always been one of self-nurturance and dignity. In support of the complex difficulties clients may experience around regaining a healthy balance, Tina’s writing is designed to sympathize, support, encourage and inform. Although there are many similarities in Tina’s process, she is not a client, but a hard working, behind-the-scenes member of the team, dedicated to helping the CEDRIC Centre stay current and effective.