Commitment

I fear commitment. Not to dh, not to my family, only to myself. The only thing I can figure is that my self esteem is really that crappy that I think I'm just not worth the effort. School, for example. I usually do great for a semester and second semester just seems to be so much more effort I figure screw it. Maybe it's the perfectionist attitude coming out--I go overboard one semester and just don't have anything left to give the second semester.

I wouldn't treat anyone else I love the way I commonly treat myself. So the logical conclusion must be that I don't love myself, right? But if I know that's the case why don't I just do something about it? I enjoy life, my family, pets, school, BSF, all that my life entails. Still, there seems to be a demon inside of me that insists on self punishment.

Take today, for example. I'm sitting in BSF trying to quiet my mind so I can listen to the lecture and my stomach starts growling. I didn't have a lot for breakfast, granted, and it was now creeping up on 11am. Immediately I get a craving for greasy french fries and a cheeseburger. I can see Wendy's pop into my head. I know that is probably the worst choice I can make but it's still there. I had to pray for the craving to go away, and for the hunger to subside enough so I could make a decent meal choice. I had already decided to buy my lunch and make a decent choice. As soon as the hunger feeling struck I wanted to just say "screw it" like I have so many times in the past.

So "screw it" means??? My health? My willpower? Taking good care of myself? Chuck it all out the window for a moment of satisfaction that'll leave me with a stomach ache, feeling bloated, greasy-faced, and later tonight the runs? Why wouldn't I throw that out the window? It seems to make more sense to choose health.

Healthy living seems boring, filled with alfalfa sprouts and other hay-bale type foods. It seems like it's often about appearances. Maybe that's because for me it has been about appearances. Sneaky eating, something I'm an expert at, always involved those stress-relieving cheeseburgers. Public eating was about keeping up my defenses: "See the fat chick can't help she's fat. She's eating good nutritious foods in reasonable portions. It must be her genetics or metabolism." Oh the lies I've told myself. Heaven forbid if someone saw me, that fat chick, eating all the nasty food I craved for comfort.

Today I won the battle in my head. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but I'll pray for the strength to fight the battle if it happens. I want to believe I'm worth taking good care of. I want to believe there is value inside of me. I'm just not sure how to get there. I don't know how to make that commitment