Incredible

There are tons of thoughts running through my head tonight.

The other day, I had one of those happy swellings fill my entire being and I felt the thought, "I choose to be incredible."

And then I started to think about what "incredible" would look like, for me. And what it would feel like. How would being incredible change my life?

Like an Extreme Makeover on crack, let me tell you. Because I know that I have been living far beneath my privileges. I have been battling demons, some external and some internal, but all of them stealing from me what is my rightful due, and what could make me incredible.

One of the ways--one of the unhealthy ways--that I've been battling my demons is with food. But really, I'm not giving much of a battle at all. Rather, I'm feeding them! I know it. My brain chemistry is off, I can feel (I imagine) systemic inflammation, I'm not sleeping well, and I'm tired all the time.

(Yes, I know I'm busy, but I'm not that kind of tired.)

I know how to feed myself. I feed my children that way. And then, I wait to do damage to me that I wouldn't dare do to them. Not so much in quantity, but in quality. Sugar is a drug, plain and simple. I buy my stashes and I hide them. Every day I tell myself it's there "just in case." And "in case" happens every single day.

The messages from my past.

The fears about my present and my future.

My regrets. My failings.

The never-ending barrage of hateful words he screams at me.

And I tell myself, "Don't believe it. Don't listen. They are lies, all of them." But then I find my drug and I self-medicate. Trying to ease the pain and soothe my soul, all with promises of Tomorrow.

But I've been incredible before, and it's alluring. I think I could get there again. I think I'm to the point where I don't need to shrink so much, or fear so much. And I think I could get to the point where I could forgive myself more, and I definitely need to learn to love myself better.

Tonight I watched a documentary called Hungry for Change. The first hour and fifteen minutes were all things I already know about biochemistry and food additives and sugar and diet and juicing and more vegetables! I love that kind of information, because it makes me more committed to feeding my children well, and to maybe, possibly someday treating myself better. But the last part of the documentary was actually the most powerful to me. The part about how taking care of ourselves begins with loving ourselves.

I definitely don't love myself like I should. But I want to. I know God wants me to.

There are just so many voices.

But Dr. Christiane Northrup, an OB/GYN that I've long admired was one of the guests on the documentary, and she suggested Louise Hay's affirmation of "I accept myself unconditionally right now." She said that for years she actually wrote that on a prescription pad and gave it to her patients with instructions to tape it to their bathroom mirror with instructions to look deeply into their eyes and say it aloud twice a day. She said to do it for 30 days. She said, after saying it, all of those false beliefs will come creeping back into your mind: "You're a piece of crap. You're totally worthless. Look at how fat you are, what a loser and a failure you are." She said, that's okay. Say it anyway, and somewhere around Day 28, a shift occurs. The new affirmation will replace the old ones and it will become powerful in your subconscious.

(And that's without the addition of fervent prayer, so just imagine!)

I'm doing it. Because I don't accept myself unconditionally right now, but I would love to. I'm tired of the way I feel inside, and it is extremely difficult to do all of the things that I have to do in my life right now feeling the way that I feel. Like trudging through chest-high tar.

So, I have a sticky note on my bathroom mirror. I do know the power of words and the power of thoughts. I'm going to add the power of my faith and see what happens.

I might end up to be incredible.