Beginnings

I finally went to a meeting today. They apparently hold them online. People just like me, who can never get enough of a good thing. I felt tired of reading the screens, so I shut it off, but it felt wonderful to share, to tell the good, solid truth to a group of strangers when I feel so out of control.

I know that there is another life beyond all this, I'm just lost as curious as to how to find it. I'm not sure if it would just be a physical act, such as moving out or being entirely, utterly alone as I sometimes crave.

I came to the realization last night that my eating has never been about me, but about everyone around me. This endless need to please everyone and everything, even people that aren't there in the real sense of the word, the reverberations I can listen to so clearly all and every day, is what I've been working working for. All these faceless disappointed people, waiting, asking, demanding my pleasure be delayed for their own. When is it that we work our ways up to expectations? When is it that we stop hearing our own voices, crying out in our genuine nature? I blame Catholic nonsense, a bad mother, and a few absent decisions for myself but I know I'm not alone. Perhaps thats why meeting work so well, you're not alone. I was able to feel more inspiration when it wasn't my own, I was able to cry then, when it wasn't myself getting the help and support. Now I just feel nothing, empty, and undeserving. But maybe feeling nothing is better than feeling guilt, remorse, and pressure, as if I'm disappointing someone or something. Maybe for now, nothing is the reality. You can only develop from a starting point of nothing. You can only build up from empty ground, up and beyond. Beyond into something better.

I once accused my brother of having no opinion for himself. It is clear I have no real opinion myself, either, just a compilation of words and hearsay from here and there. The most daunting piece of this experience is really finding what I've been hiding behind so long, my real, true gratified self. For myself, not for the entertainment and pleasure of others. For me, only me.

In looking at wedding pictures and new babies to girls I knew in school, a hundred years ago and a different person I was, I recently admitted the sad truth to myself that I do not want these things yet. That was a strong step in the right direction, it had meaning, significance. It was freeing, I never needing these things.

And more to come. More to come.