I never thought the day would come when I would say this but I've been defeated. I cannot explain the process of what happened and at this point I really don't care. After several years of strength that seemingly came out of nowhere, undaunted courage, and grit that wouldn't quit, I finally tanked. Emotionally I collapsed and found myself so low I had to look up to see bottom.
I went for a long walk last night to try to clear my head. It couldn't have been a better night, temp was perfect, big orange moon, the smell of fall leaves, lots of stars. I wanted to just lay down on the trail and stare at the sky until I fell asleep.
It was there that I remembered a similar situation from WAY back when I was a young Airman. I just changed bases and my personal life was a total train wreck. I was in a strange place, didn't know anyone and felt VERY much alone.
I also just turned 21. Bad mix of personal issues and turning legal drinking age at the same time.
I walked into the Airman's Club and bought as much hooch to go as my meager salary could afford. I was not a social drinker, I drank for one reason. I drank to get hammered. I was going to go back to the barracks and drink myself into a total stupor and for a little while forget about my problems. To make myself numb. When it comes to drinking, being a hermit is a VERY bad sign, but that is my personality, I withdraw from life and wander in an emotional wilderness.
I sat there in my car with my newly acquired "medication" and stared at it. Is this what it has all come down too? I thought. So this is how life will be defined, Robert the drunk? The escape artist? There was nothing to stop me, no one intervening. I was old enough to make my own decisions and I was free to go back to the barracks and lose myself. No one would stop me, no parents and there was certainly no one on base that gave two hoots about me. This was all me and all boiled down to what I would choose.
After several long minutes, I gathered everything else and swallowed my pride and fear of what the reaction would be, and I walked back into the club to the man who sold it all to me and told him what the situation was and that I wanted to return them. Instead of surprise or sarcasm, he looked at me very seriously and said "Son, I'm proud of you, You did the right thing"
I heard the same voice speaking to me in these blogs....
There is no one to stop me from going away and quitting but to what end? I am not quitting the process, I'm giving up on myself just like I did back then and I didn't know where to turn. It is exactly the same cut and run reaction.
Also like back then, the choice is still the same. My problems were still there when I returned the liquor but I chose to feel the pain rather than numb it. I chose to face it.
Today I choose to face it.
That doesn't make the frustration or resulting depression go away, it just means that I choose to feel it and move on because when it comes to issues of weight, there is nowhere to go but up when you have a personality like mine.
Today I am still unmotivated. I look at my racing stuff and the things that brought such pride and a sense of accomplishment and I feel nothing. They are just so many trinkets from a time when I thought I had the answers. However, I am NOT those things, I'm just Robert.
Robert isn't such a bad guy and I am doing this because of him.
Obesity is a ruthless tyrant and I will not bend the knee no matter how tattered my battle flag is.
There really is no other option but pick up the sword and march.
March I will.