Fighter

Today, someone told me "you never really know a person until you've seen them fight".  I think the basic idea was that people behave civilly and act a certain way so that they appear to be nice good people, but you don't really really know them until you've seen how they react when they've been backed into a corner, and the pressure's on.  It made me wonder...what does my fighting style say about me?  Not that I really fight, but I do spar on occasion, and don't I argue in a similar way?  To be completely honest, I feel inadequate at both.  I feel like my growth has been stunted, and although I have all the tools I need to be exquisite, I'm behind all of my peers.

     When I was a little kid, I had a crazy temper.  I would get sooo mad, like my chest was going to explode, and then I would unleash whatever chaos I was capable of, inflicting pain and punishment on anyone within my reach.  I would be nice as long as i knew I was winning - in control, but if that was threatened, I would be blinded by my fury, and I'd lose all control, just like many people do when they get hit in a fight.  By the time I was 10, I learned how detrimental this was to me and my cause.  Once I lost control, I never got what I wanted, so I began trying different tactics.  

     Arguments with my brother usually took a similar course.  We argued, he refused to understand that I had clearly won; I lost my temper, and attacked him; I got in trouble, and he got the last laugh.  Even after I learned to control my temper, and defeat him with my superior logic and 12 year old comebacks, I got in trouble.  I insulted him too cruely, and he was younger, so it wasn't fair.  He would start an argument, I would respond cooly, and I would get in trouble.  My only defense was to completely ignore him.  There was no acceptable response.  Even clever sarcastic retorts were punished.  Thus, I was conditioned out of my natural defensive instincts.  I now find myself incapable of participating in friendly teasing or trash talk, and when someone throws a kick or punch at me, my instinct is to demonstrate instantly that I have no capacity to attack, am incapable of and unwilling to defend myself, and they are hurting me, thus putting myself in the position of my little brother from younger years, who always got the last laugh.  Wow.  I didn't realize that was why I was doing that.  When I feel like I stand a chance, I stay present, but when the odds seem insurmountable, I stop fighting.  I shut down, and give up.  I don't like that.  I like to think of myself as someone who overcomes everything and works harder than anyone, but it's true.  I will work my butt off to achieve the impossible if I Know I can do it, but once I accept that I can't, I drop everything.  I'm so focused on the destination, that I lose sight of the value of the journey.  I think I give up too easily.  I fight with everything I have as long as i know i stand a chance, but how many times have I cut my losses, and thrown in the towel?  I think there's something so admirable about fighting til the end even when you know you've already lost...like in "300"  but that's not very balanced, is it?  I don't know what's right or wrong, but when i give up and refuse to attack in sparring, that doesn't feel right.  it just feels hopeless.  it further stunts my growth, and when a friend jokingly trash talks, and I ignore them, I'm isolating myself, further ingraining that conditioning.  I have to risk falling on my butt to learn how to attack, and risk looking like a fool so that I can hang with my friends' playful trash talk.  It'll take a long time.  and that's ok.

    

now i got it.  i know what i'm really upset about.  I love hearing how much i've changed since program.  in a way, it's good that i'm learning new ways to love and validate myself besides quantifiable success, but it's not good that so much of my self worth is tied into other people's perception of my progress in recovery.  yes- focusing on recovery is great.  but my attitude right now shows lack of acceptance of myself as who I am.  It say "i'm only ok if i'm better than I used to be, and if that difference is significant enough for you to see it and be impressed."  I asked my brother this afternoon if he could see the difference.  "from what?" he asked.  he had no idea what i was talking about.  it hadn't occurred to him that my whole way of life has been transforming drastically for the past year - that i've uprooted the core of my beliefs about how the world works and how i fit into it.  I swear i'd talked to him about this.  Now, granted, there's no reason that he should be able to see a difference.  I've probably seen him 4 times since i left for college 6 1/2 years ago.  I began my eating disorder about 5 years ago, and right now, he's been here for slightly over 24 hours.  how on earth could i expect him to see a difference?  and then i started behaving ... well ... like a spoiled child, which is probably exactly how he remembers me from when we were really little...before i learned to stuff everything and behave like the perfect child.  So to him, this probably looks like backward progress, or at best, just the same old me.  I hated not having all kinds of enlightened recovery to flaunt, and even though i shouldn't be doing this just for attention and admiration from other people, there's more.  I'm also mad at myself for not being better.  I'm mad at myself for not accepting life on life's terms or for being incapable accepting where I am right now.  I really hated myself a few minutes ago.  I feel a little better now that i've gotten some of this out.  it was really bubbling over.

rage

I am so irrationally angry right now.  I can't stand it.  I was storming around my room screaming silently and trying to clean up because the filth is driving me crazy.  my roommates have piles of crap all over the apartment.  the dogs are everywhere.  my brother reeks of smoke.  my room is a mess.  i can't clean up.  i can't think.  I couldn't cope.  I put on my running shoes.  It's after midnight, and 2 hours ago I was exhausted.  but I had to run.  I HAD TO.   yes this is compulsive.  yes- i'm numbing feelings that are too much to handle.  Yes-it's overtraining because I already worked out for 3 hours this morning and 3 hours this evening, and i don't freakin' care.  I'm so mad i can't stand it.  and i don't know for sure what it's really about.  Here's what happened...

My brother's visiting, and I wanted to do something fun and get out of the apartment, so we got reservations to see a comedy show.  We were running late, and had to get dinner.  I was already an hour late for dinner according to my food plan.  Maybe that's part of why I was craving something kinda iffy.  i kinda wanted chinese food.  we dashed into the grocery store to check out the salad and hot food bar.  We'd grab it to go, shove it in my bag, and sneak it into the club so we could eat during the show.  Is that unusual?  i dunno.  I've never been to a comedy show...or anything really.  but the food there sucked!  it was all crap.  disgusting.  "come on!"  I dragged my brother out, and we ran...yes...ran around the block to panda express.  I used to binge there, and I wouldn't do anything like that now.  we were just getting dinner, but it is kinda ... i dunno... triggering?  a sign that i'm not treating my body with respect and care?  that I'm paying more heed to my cravings than my health and well being?   all of the above, but I was in a bit of a frenzy.  we only had about 8 minutes til the show started.  well we got there with a minute to spare, and they had to check bags at the door.  They wouldn't let us bring the food in.  They require you to order off the menu.  I considered leaving right then - just going straight home, and eating our panda express junk food in front of the tv.  maybe it's because it had been close to 6 hours since my last meal, and I was tired and hungary, but I got into that zone again.  the one where i'm just ... tense, shaky, trembley, nervous, scared, frustrated, confused, trapped... i'm just in a mood where i can't connect with anyone.  i don't want to.  it doesn't matter where i am, who i'm with, or what's going on.  i'm not gonna connect with it or enjoy it.  I HATE when i get like that.  I wanted to punish the guard and the ticket people for doing this to me.  (i know.  it's retarded.)  I wanted to tell them through tear streaked eyes, and sobs that I have an eating disorder, this food is part of my food plan, I NEED to eat it slowly inside during the show, and THEY are responsible for triggering this panic attack, and should feel horrible, and let me do whatever the hell i want...not that that's going to make up for it, because they've already ruined the evening beyond repair.  But I couldn't say, or even believe that, because it's not like I had an organic salad with cage free chicken and no dressing in that bag.  I had freakin' syrup coated, msg ridden fast food that I already felt guilty for buying.  and i didn't want to just leave.  I kinda wish i had, except that then i would have eaten the panda express...now it's sitting in the fridge, and i think it should go to hell for being heinously disgusting, but this is just another frustrating case of " i tried to go out and be fun and social, but i find this shit lame, boring, stupid, and I feel like an outcast because everyone else likes it and gets it, and thinks it's a worthwhile use of time, when i'd rather be at home sleeping."  and my knee hurts!  and i just want to sleep forever, which means i might not even go to a meeting in the morning because i'm sleep deprived because i feel bad taking a nap during the day when my brother's only visiting for a few days, but i'm so tired.  and so angry.  and i had to order this "cali wrap" which sounds healthy, right?  well it wasn't!  it was a freakin burrito with rice and cheese and sour cream and it wasn't even good.  i don't know whether to be mad that it was small, unsatisfying, and as far as a full meal goes, probably counts as restricting, or to be pissed that it was so full of carbs and fat, and disgusting greasiness.  I don't know if i'm hungary or have indigestion from the shit food, or if it's just nerves and pent up emotions churning in my belly.  i just hate things right now.  ugh.  poor brother...confused on the couch in the dark, waiting for me to calm down.