Beautiful

I've become far more transparent as I get older. Those close to me know that I have struggled a bit more than normal the last few months. Summer was definitely quite rough. I experienced bouts of sadness coupled with anxiety. I remember one particularly bad morning, I started crying and literally couldn't stop. My mister came home from work early to find me curled up in a fetal position, sobbing, and I didn't even know why.

Then, towards the end of July, what I have feared since losing over one hundred pounds happened: An extremely stressful situation occurred, and I reverted back to all of those unhealthy habits that accompanies emotional eating. I started to eat to fill a void, instead of eating to fuel my body. I would eat when I wasn't hungry and I would eat all of the high fat, high sugar foods. I would overeat, too. Sad = eat. Bored = eat. Anxious = eat. Stressed or overwhelmed? Eat. Eat. Eat. And, the weight has crept back up. And I fell so defeated.

Last week was a long week; it was a long, stressful week. I ate my way through it. The temporary gratification is always replaced with disgust and self-loathing, yet the cycle continued.

Tonight, I went to one of those smiling feet places to hopefully work out some knots out as a fresh week begins. As I was trying to relax, listening to the instrumental music with the ocean sounds, I asked God to help me not become so consumed with my negative feelings. And when those feelings arise, because they inevitable will, I prayed that I can respond in a healthy way, not eat ten pieces of candy.

As I continued to pour my heart out to God, telling Him all the ways I have fallen short and how I really don't know what I am doing, the man with his elbow in my shoulder blade spoke. It jolted me back to the room. He said, "Měilì....beautiful." He was referring to the tattoo in the middle of my back. I got it many years ago, and, at the time, I wanted it to be a reminder of a beautiful life, a life that gleaned beauty from the ashes. Hearing it spoken in that moment, and having that reminder was a balm to my hurting heart.

Tomorrow is a new day, and the start of a new month. One thing I do know is this: His mercies are new each day. It's true. And it remains true, even if I don't have my shit together. Especially when I don't have it all together.

So, that's where I am...In a place of striving. And falling. And getting back up again. A place where I am attempting to discern what to do with my future. And most importantly, a place of attempting to live life well, which means loving those around me {and loving myself, too.}