I have been thinking a lot about 2012. Maybe it’s because I feel like I finally FINALLY have a year all to myself.
No uni. No house mom. A new town. An amazing partner. A garden.
But there’s still this underlying nagging sentiment that I am not too sure how to deal with.
Food, weight, dieting, body.
I was watching a show today and a lady said to a bulimic girl “binging has been your language for a long time.”
For the longest time I think, know, that my language has been to give. To give past points of exhaustion. To do past points of self-care. To achieve beyond points to make others happy. To worry, obsess, track, think, restrict, binge, exercise regarding food beyond points that I wanted to.
I’m afriad…to let my language..the launguage/words/phrases/anecdotes which I speak to myself about food and everything else go.
What if I stopped it all?
What if I learned a new language?
I don’t know why the woman’s comment to someone who I don’t know hit me so hard. What is the emotion that I felt after that comment mean to me? Does it mean that I/you/we relate to the idea that often times we want to learn another language, but are too afraid to try/don’t wanna put in the effort/don’t think it’s possible?