And then there was today: Facing a lapse

I’ve been waking every morning with a stickiness in my joints,

a slowness to my movement that screams in resistance to the pressure of my thoughts.

That pressure has crept back in recently.

My slow, early morning flow replaced with a drill sergeant.

My knees are groaning in their familiar resistance

but you don’t let me listen to them.

The thick mat, blankets and candlelight replaced with bare feet and darkness,

because I’m not here to be comfortable.

Just get it done.

Somehow you have come back into control.

With your empty promises and focus on outcomes

forcing me to be anywhere but here.

You make every moment about moving to the next

and where in that am I allowed to just be.

You always start as if this is temporary,

you lure me in and promise only until…

But every time the until becomes reality you move the mark further.

It is never enough.

What you bring is so alluring.

As long as I listen you take away the anxiety,

there is no pain and there is no fatigue.

You bring a faux clarity of thought and sense of achievement that pollutes and dilutes

every. inch. of. my. world.

Are you ready to take back your world? Join us at the School of Recovery.

You make me look strong. You make me feel numb.

Until you are challenged.

Until we’re in the supermarket paralysed

and you start tearing at my skin from the inside.

And then it doesn’t matter what I want anymore.

You break to the surface and smother me.

You push everyone away.

You berate them and judge them

until they don’t want to get too close.

Because if they get close they will see you and know that you have taken me.

So they must turn away

because you tell me you are all that I need.

And then there was today…

Today I awoke before you.

How could I tell?

The anxiety hit me like a wave and I welcomed it.

Anxiety I can deal with.

You, I cannot.

That’s not to say you didn’t try.

But I held the power,

refused to abide by your rules and rituals.

Instead I rolled out my mat.

I kept my socks on

and I folded into the stickiness,

flowed through your shit,

and I thanked you for reminding me how much I need to just be.

Are you ready to “just be” without your ED? Join us at the School of Recovery.