I hit the wall, or so I thought.
I’ve been feeling caged. Claustrophobic. Deprived. And not content.
Feeling like I’m caught in a routine gone stale. A routine that moves on spinning gears but no passion.
My instinct is to say that these feelings were bound to surface eventually. For a year and a half I’ve been living a different life than the one I’ve known. All that effort put toward creating a new self was due to one day bring me to this point. The point where I wanted to…give up. Stop everything and return to a place with more cushions.
It’s the wall. The metaphorical wall. Where I find myself at the bottom of, too tired to climb.
Too worn out to even look for a foothold.
Not caring to lift my head and see if there’s a rope to grab.
A wall, that in all reality, was likely one I built at some point with my own brick and mortar of issues.
But, as I write this, I’m actually feeling uplifted.
Because, for the first time, I don’t believe this wall to be about my weight.
For my entire life I thought I was blocked by a number. The word “fat” stood between me and happiness when really the walls were feelings that, for years, contributed to my disordered eating and weight gain.
Those are the battles I’m fighting. The walls I’m working to break down.
Not my weight. Not a scale. Not waning motivation.
Unfortunately, losing weight doesn’t make those parts of me magically disappear.
My weight did a great deal in helping me avoid facing those things, however.
I believed that anything negative in my life was because of my weight. Because of my appearance. I believed good things were off limits. Out of reach.
I live in a different world now.
One where I’m holding an all-access pass to my life.
Good things come my way because I believe life to be good.
I set and accomplish goals. I work toward things.
Life opened itself up to me when I showed the Universe I was open to it.
Breaking through a wall, or breaking down a wall, doesn’t happen like you see in the movies. With a running start, an angled shoulder, crashing bricks and a perfect somersault landing.
Really I think it’s a process in where you chip away slowly, consistently, and find joy in the pinholes of light that shine through the cracks.
I thought I hit the wall. This weekend I was ready to write a post that said something more like, “I need a break.”
Instead, I’m going to do the easy thing. Reframe the wall.
Take the journey inward and stop saying that I’ve hit a wall.
I’ve been feeling antsy, like I’m just ready to be done. To say, “this was great” but I’m out here treading water and need a life raft.
It’s a scary place to be when you put yourself out there each and every day. Each day going a little further into completely unknown territory.
But whatever it is that’s signaling me to stop – whether it’s doubt, fear or insecurity – are actually probably signals of change if I approach each of the feelings from a different perspective.
I’ve done it before.
I lost weight by believing I was in a place where I was already more than a number and more than the word fat.
That’s how you bring down the wall. If I had let my weight stand in my way, believed it to be a challenge instead of just something that was part of my life, I think I would have given up a long time ago. By the time I was ready to lose weight, the word “fat” didn’t hold any power.
This is what I come back to time and time again when I’m up against a challenge. A roadblock. A wall.
If I could do it once – change a belief about myself that ran so deep, that I clung to – than there is nothing stopping me from believing that I could break through and break down anything I perceive to be in my way.
There are a lot of things that I could tell you weight loss has taught me.
But first among them is that change is possible. From wherever you are and whatever you are up against.
“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” – Rumi