on resilience (a stream of conscious thought)
numb.
my fellow chronic over-thinkers and over-feelers, hyper aware of our own thoughts and feelings, every thought thought or sentence said or word spoken to us, tuned into our senses and actions and reactions at a beyond imaginable level. this one is (maybe) for you.
(*please read at your own discretion if you are in a place where this may be detrimental to your own healing. contains depictions of eating disorder thoughts. every piece of your journey has value, even the most difficult ones)
spiraling, spiraling, spiraling in this messy, jumbled, ball of every emotion felt in my eighteen years on this earth resides in my chest, the strings of my heart attached to this intricately intertwined mess of all I have known, loved, lost and found. this makes the pain of strong emotions unbearable, but the feelings associated with the greatest emotions life offers even all the more beautiful.
multiple times in my life, I felt this jumble threatening to consume me whole, recognizing the need to dig deep to uncover its roots is what ultimately brought me to this insight.
i have always had a complicated relationship with pain.
from a young age, I would play mind games to see how long I could perform a task without surrendering to lack of control:
I frequently spent entire days of my summers on the beach in the ocean (no matter the water temperature): refusing to come to shore until my lips were blue, eyes bright-red bloodshot from the sting of the saltwater, hair practically dreadlocked by the sand, feeling as if my body was still swaying in the motion of the waves for hours to come.
this same scenario matches a multitude of mind games I devote myself to at many points in my life:
seeing how long I could withstand laying in a snowbank during a blizzard, lasting two hours and thirty-seven minutes before my snowsuit was entirely soaked through and toes were edging on purple. I was five years old.
seeing how many times I could run up the hill in my childhood backyard, until my legs were screaming out from under me while I repeated my treacherously steep upward climb to go one more. this was seven.
continuing to run 3 cross country races on a fractured hip (counties, states and Nike regionals!) simply vying for all-county and all-state recognition (which-amazingly-I got). what’s up sophomore year of high school.
holding multiple ten minute planks and 10 minute wall-sits with less than 15 seconds rest simply to say I could (then deciding this would become a normal part of my daily routine for approximately six months-please never do this to yourself ever). this was junior year of high school, and so incredibly out-of-pocket it sickens me. (anyone know if this is a world record or something LOLOL)
a recurring life theme of mine has been resilience: powering through, despite all obstacles, to achieve goals and dreams alike.
this is grit in the purest form possible, this passion, drive and determination allowing for great successes. until it begins to trend in the opposite direction. until resilience becomes debilitating.
I use this component of who I am to get me to the places I want to go: in sport, in academics and in life. and most of the time, it works pretty well. the caveat is in taming this fireball residing in my heart, preventing it from attaching itself to things that are meant to bring success with a lighthearted approach, finding the “sweet spot” of balancing my fire with some water waves.
this past year especially has been a period of my life in which I was able to do some immense introspective work, and realized that in order to avoid feeling the complicated cocktail of feelings I hold in my heart, I push myself to physical limits beyond what i believe I am able to withstand.
i used to believe that resilience was continuing to run despite broken bones, studying until I fell asleep on my dining room floor, never sitting down unless absolutely necessary (due to swelling, burning numbness in my legs or required sitting in school,) eating just enough to keep me alive at the lowest level (and never a single bite more,) or doing sit-ups or bicycles into oblivion in darkness on my bedroom floor. knowing deep down that this was far from sustainable but being unable to listen to the rational brain trapped by my eating disorder’s firm grip.
for a short time, I was able to feel nothing. my sick scheme to quieting my mind worked wonders, until it almost took my life.
recovery has been incredibly hard. feeling things I worked so hard to to numb resurfacing needing to implement hard work and heart work to ride these waves out in a healthy manner. (seriously, therapy is a lifesaver.) though this is a daily challenge and a work in progress, I wouldn’t exchange being able to actually live life instead of being consumed by faulty perceptions of what life should be will forever be worth temporary discomfort.
my definition of resilience still stands: pushing forward, fighting on to find success despite all odds. however, the constituents of the actions I take to continue moving in a forward direction are entirely different.
some days, resilience can look like excelling in 3 classes and 3 practices: AM cross train, PM workout, PM lift. it can look like hitting a shiny new PR or getting an 100 on a final exam.
some days, resilience can look like giving my body complete rest to repair the thousands of micro tears that occur in the muscles after withstanding a full week of training or spending a little extra time in bed and having a slow morning to rejuvenate my energy bank.
some days resilience can look like speaking up and telling my support system when I am off my game physically or mentally, eating something outside of my comfort zone simply because it sounds good or not bottling, walling up and ignoring feelings (big, scary feelings and small, fleeting ones alike).
every day, our bodies fight to keep us alive, allowing us to do AMAZING things on top of the miracle that is simply being a living, breathing human being. the greatest thing we can do to give back to our bodies is treat them with the kindness they deserve: despite what our brains may tell us.
resilience is not a rigid formula, it is a continuum of doing the right thing (day in & day out, no matter how different each day may look) to allow us to consistently show up as the best version of ourselves.
love, jor
