A Sweet Potato Fight Song

I have absolutely no idea how to start this.  Introductory sentences have always been the bane of my existence. I've spent hours, literally hours, attempting to craft the most spell-binding, catchy, make-me-sound- smart introductory sentences followed by an equally as profound introductory paragraph.  Once I've got the introduction down, everything else seems to flow accordingly, but this process of writing, deleting, and re-writing is unbelievably time consuming and a very blatant symptom of my perfectionistic tendencies.  I can't tell you how many people have urged me to just get my ideas on paper first [word vomit, if you wish], and then go back later to tighten it all up.  As hard as I've tried to adopt this practice, it is unbelievably challenging.  

Let me reiterate, I like to do things right the first time around.  I delay gratification in nearly every aspect of my life.  I was that kid who raced home from school, spread my textbooks across my bedroom floor, and did all of my homework immediately before even contemplating turning on the television, seeing a friend, or *gasp* taking any sort of break.  Now, I'm the 26 year-old who still walks in the door and, on auto-pilot, packs a lunch for the following day, assembles and re-stocks tomorrow's gym bag, files paperwork, responds to emails, and cleans before ever allowing herself to eat a meal, or sprawl out on the couch. This rigidity has served me well in certain situations, namely my beautifully organized closets and cupboards, but it more often than not rears it's head in far uglier ways.  

How I wish I could transition smoothly into my purpose for beginning this blog, yet I have set an intention to embrace honesty, transparency, and some semblance of flexibility (dare I say, spontaneity!?), so I'm going to start from a place that feels right to me.  What follows may be wordy, messy, and ill-sounding, but I finally am ready to get it out. 

I've been keeping secrets, ones that elicit anxiety and carry deep shame...As I dripped in sweat, watching my calorie burn increase on the ARC trainer earlier this week, I thought about starting this blog.  After eating a sweet potato the other night and feeling this incredible sense of fullness, I thought to myself, "That's how I should start my first blog post!  Write about the sensory overload I experienced eating a goddamn sweet potato."  Or, the moment I stepped on the scale this morning and yelled in frustration at the number staring back at me.  But, I didn't even order the ice  cream last night that I so badly wanted!  I watched my portions while eating Mexican food for the first time in months.  Why won't my body cooperate?  I got on and off that scale at least five times in the hopes it would miraculously change.  I moved the scale to different areas of my apartment, wondering if the calibration was off as a result of the slightly uneven flooring.  I hurried into the gym 20 minutes later only to jump on the scale and see a number even higher.  Immediately, I pealed off my socks and the number registered two ounces less.  Off came the spandex pants (mind you, this is a public area, but few women start their Saturday in the health spa at 7:40am), and I felt the tiniest bit of relief.  I start every Saturday morning in this regimented fashion, practically willing the scale not to reflect a gain as I try with every fiber of my being to find a sense of normalcy.  

Following a hard, but so very satisfying yoga session, two coffee dates, a visit to Marshalls, my zen place, I headed home.  It wasn't until I turned on the radio and started belting out Rachel Platten's Fight Song did I know I was ready to start this post: 

All those things I didn't say

Wrecking balls inside my brain

I will scream them loud tonight...Can you hear my voice this time?

This is my fight song

Take back my life song

Prove I'm alright song

Starting right now I'll be strong

Those closest to me know that music does not typically resonate with me.  I did, in fact, have to google the artist of this song and, yes, I have heard it just as many times as you have :). So, here's my confession, one that you were likely able to piece together based on the aforementioned anecdote, one that I have spoken aloud but have never committed to writing: I am struggling to overcome disordered eating and exercise. This blog is one resource I plan to use on my path to recovery.  I've got a lot of hard work, painful work, ahead of me, but I'm tired of living this way,  For those of you reading this, I intend to share my story in a way that I hope will help you to understand what I continue to battle with. And, yes, I've got a lot of fight left in me.