I just cried because I couldn’t find parking.

Ok, so, those of you who’ve been following along the last few days know I’ve been working intensely through some emotions.

I had an appointment with my psychologist last night and we delved even further into my physical manifestation of emotions through the third eye, throat, heart and naval spaces.

We practiced mobilising techniques of speaking with ownership the feelings that stem from these sites.

This session climaxed with my realisation that as a child, when I was in my fathers care, I was blamed for many things I never did, I felt utterly invisible throughout most of my childhood and was silenced on almost every subject. This has resulted in my aversion to conflict, my need to surrogate feelings for others because I believe I can take the pain for them, the importance I place on my own voice and being heard, and an assortment of other behaviours/trauma.

I woke up this morning, feeling very groggy and a little ‘off’, shall we say.

I had a final round interview with a top tier bank today that I was excited about, but unsure as to whether or not I should go.

I decided it would be best to get ready, and go.

Half an hour of driving later, I arrive at the location. It’s a little off where I thought it would be and I immediately started to feel a tightening in my forehead.

I drive around.

2hr parking signs are everywhere – perfect! this is all I need!

No free spaces.

I keep driving.

I see a space, but its a fair walk away and my shoes will grate on feet if I have to walk that far.

I decide to give it another go looking closer to the site, or to look at the paid parking.

Forehead getting tighter. Emotions stirring.

Around and around in circles I go for 20 minutes.

Paid parking is $30-40 for 2 hours. No.

I keep missing the street parking.

Session starts at 12:00pm, it’s 11:48am.

The email asks us to arrive 15 minutes early so I already feel like I’m letting them down.

More driving before I head back to that other spot and risk the walk, space taken.

Tears start rolling down my cheeks.

I decide it’s best to drive home and email them when I’m home to explain what happened – totally unsure what kind of email that was going to be, because how do you tell a future employer that you’re in the middle of a fairly intense emotional workshop on yourself and you’re still getting to know your triggers?

As I’m driving home, the feeling of being overwhelmed and exhausted takes centre stage. My awareness that I’m emotionally drained is clear as day, and my incessant feelings of overwhelm refuse to be ignored. So here I am, driving, feeling every second of them.

The bank calls.

Where am I? Is everything ok?

I explain briefly that I’ve had a rough few days and I attempted to make it but struggled to find parking and would need to unfortunately not attend today.

They said it was fine and they’d rebook me for the next available session.

Shocked, relieved and grateful. I’m so grateful that woman made that call and made my day that little bit easier.

Now, as I type this in bed – head thumping, eyes puffy, totally wiped out – I’m still trying to honour every feeling I have today. Tiredness. Overwhelm. Needy.

This is going to be a wild month or two while I process all these pent up feelings. It’ll only get better from here.

It’s my weight problem…

I just tried to write an article that felt utterly unauthentic. Very irritating.

Here we are, attempting to allow my feelings to lead me with this – having the best time ever. Not.

The goal of this exercise is to allow myself to feel – really feel.

Because apparently I don’t do enough of that.

Well I don’t really. I never feel. I prefer not to. I prefer to feel through the filter of logic. If I can understand it, I will allow myself to feel it.

Alas, here we are, left only with the persistent emotions that cannot be filtered by logic.

Can you tell I’m attempting to delay the process of feeling for as long as possible?

I have an area of my life that is directly effected by my reluctancy in this area, it’s something I’ve tried to think my way out of for years, to no avail.

My weight.

I’ve genuinely research damn near everything I can to attempt to find a logical solution as to why I find myself uncontrollable around food at times.

I know all the logical solutions; more calories out than in, less refined foods, more whole foods, exercise releases endorphins, etc, etc.

I even know the CBT solutions; mindful eating, fork down between bites, small portions, no distractions, etc.

I’ve even gone as far as being involved in a 12 step program around Food Addiction; which I left after disagreeing with the entire absence of a reintegration program.

These have all had very temporary effects on my predicament. Some worked for a little while, but none had longevity.

Here I am – post my PhD in weight loss from a lifetime of being overweight – and I feel no closer to a solution than I did 12 years ago.

Until three days ago.

Three days ago a very close girlfriend of mine insisted it will never be something I can logically think my way out of. She suggested that perhaps this was only ever going to be resolved through a deep process of feeling and healing. Not in a hindsight, lets-look-at-your-history way, but in an everyday feeling kind of way.

I could have packed up shop then and there.

There is a very distinct part of me – perhaps my ego – that REALLY doesn’t want to feel. Couldn’t think of anything worse; equal parts annoying, weakness and exhausting.

I do however think this could be a good thing to trial – and here we are. Giving it a go.

The argument can be made that by writing down my feels I am processing logically, but we’ll bench that for now as something is better than nothing, amiright?

Ok, how do I feel?

I just did laundry and am contemplating starting a painting to avoid this. Ha!

  • I feel overwhelmed
    • by this task
    • by having to see my close girlfriends today
    • by my new relationship
  • I feel enriched
    • by my new relationship
    • by the fact that I have the girls in my life that I have – I’m truly so lucky to know these women. Amazes me that they want to spend time with me too.
  • I feel scared
    • that I’ll lose the above people
    • that I’ll never get on top of this issue
    • that I’ll be overweight forever, and thus limited. For me, being overweight gets in the way of me doing a lot of things I want to do. I don’t dress that way I’d like to because none of the clothes fit my body the right way. I don’t get out and do things I want to do because I’m scared that my weight will get in the way of the activity. It sounds like I’m hiding behind my weight as a reason to not live my life fully – and maybe that’s true. Maybe I’m afraid that if I lose the weight, I’m on my own. Full exposure. No excuses now.

That is terrifying. The idea that my weight is my protection from liability.

“Oh, it’s not my fault, it’s because I’m fat” – potentially my excuse for not having/acheving things in my life.

Good gracious.

  • Why did your previous boyfriends discard you?
  • Why do all your friends eventually leave?
  • Why are you still under playing in your life?
  • Why aren’t you chasing your hobbies to see if they could be dreams?
  • Why are you settling in comfort and predictability?

Concerned in an understatement.

I have never thought of myself as someone who felt served by being overweight – ever. Seems I was just kidding myself. Despite ALL the shit that comes with carrying excess weight, none of it hurt more than being labelled a failure. “Instead you can plaster that label on my weight problem, because that’s why I don’t have a complete life I love. It’s not me as a person, it’s my weight problem”.

Please hold. Digesting.