That Damn Folder

There's a packet on my kitchen table. This one has nothing to do with the kids. This packet almost feels like it decides my future. Like all the possibilities live within those twenty papers. That is just the start. Twenty papers isn't a big deal right? 

What if in those twenty papers held the key to your success for a healthy future? What in those twenty pages was everything you have tried and failed? What if in those twenty papers is a commitment unlike any ( not even marriage) you have made before? What if it's the hardest thing you have ever tried to do?

In that folder sits my bariatric paperwork. In that folder sits forms I will have to fill out and then appointments I will have to make. In that folder sits my best opurtunity to keep all my limbs. In the folder sits my best opportunity to stop my knee pain. 

It would be AMAZING not to hurt every day. Yes I could get a shot in my knee, but it's easier to grow numb to the pain. I get used to it it's normal pain range and go about life, until I push too hard. Or I fall, and the knee pops out of place. This means I can't walk well for a days to a few weeks. Somehow this is just what I thought life would be like. 

I thought I could do this on my own. I though I could change and get healthy. Yeah, while I did loose some, and went down a couple sizes, I can't seem to loose enough fast enough to get my knee better. 

I struggle with varying ends of eating disorders. I have for a long time. It has tanked my metabolism. Other things came into play to, before I was in therapy food was not fuel, food was feelings. Food kept me unattractive so I wouldn't get attention from anyone else besides my husband. Food was the only thing I thought I could control and by control, I mean blissfully ignore the fact that I was spiraling. 

In that folder, in those papers, is a commitment I make to myself. By doing this, I am telling myself I am worthy of living, actually living. I am telling myself that I believe I can do this. I am telling myself that I am going to break the damn cycle and teach my kids better then I did. I am making a promise to MYSELF that from this point out, I will take care of me. I promise to myself for the rest of my life, that I will care for me. 

This is scary. Food, feelings, and mental health all live in the same house in my brain. They are all very much connected. Every step forward brings me one step closer. 

Is it a cop out? Is it an easy way out? Will people understand? Can I do this? I never promised myself anything this important before. The only other time I was dedicated to losing weight was when I wanted to get pregnant with the youngest. I lost thirty pounds to gain thirty pounds while pregnant. That was the last time I really lost weight for me, but even then, the reason wasn't to be healthy, I wanted a baby. 

In that folder sits twenty pages of a promise to myself to put myself first. I am scared. So freaking scared to just try.