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  • Writer's pictureChef Nii

Addict

Chalé…


Hi my name is Nii and I am an addict! There I said it!!! I said it out loud didn’t I? I did… Why am I even here? I guess today, yes today! I finally will be able to walk out of denial and step into the truth; the truth of what is.


Truth which may come as a surprise to many, for to most “It can’t be a bad thing!” and it wasn’t, it was meant to be good thing. It drowned all the negative comments, it drowned all the judgmental looks and thoughts, it helped, heightened my self confidence which was non existent before, it even improved my walk, my posture changed guys. It gave me something to look forward to, finally I was excited about something! I was motivated!!!


Unti, it began to take precedence over any and every thing. It was until it began jolting me out of bed at night in mid sleep, forcing me to jump around my room in excruciating pain. My body now goes into spasms that only seem to happen at that ungodly hour, where negotiations with sleep were only but an hour or two prior. Yet, at the break of dawn, I would be back doing it all over again, as if the night's previous ordeal was nothing but a dream. 


I am strong willed…well I choose to believe I am. I snap out of it and done! That’s it. But when it comes to this!!! No control whatsoever, like…I am actually weak. Two days without it I begin to lose my mind and my body begins to shut down. I mean on some days I will myself, I actually convince myself I don’t need it, so I get home and safely tuck myself in bed. Well until it’s about midnight and with sleep still very far away, I begin to lose my my mind, and the next thing I know I am changed, and I am back there. All the self will and pep talk…Beans! 


To say I do not know how I got here will be a tale. To say I do not know the root cause will be another spiel, for identifying the root cause to a problem is the first step in the right direction of finding a solution right? Well, False Evidence Appearing Real is my root cause; this is the real reason why we are at this point. The fear of backtracking to a moment in time when self confidence was non existent, the fear of backtracking to a time when my self image was viewed through a broken mirror, the fear of backtracking to a time when self worth was a gift I got tired of waiting for.




The fear of backtracking to a time when comments about my exterior were freely given, wrapped in the casings of apparent concern, the casings of opinions and advice, and the worst of them all, comments wrapped up in the casings of jokes and banter. 


Words…seeds that were planted in the past have grown into oaks and I can’t seem to fell them. An impression of what was acceptable versus what I was bothered me, and the struggle to attain that acceptable preferred image became my life’s mission. Hence I have never been able to love my body, but have consistently beaten it into submission. I have starved it, I have stretched it, I have sculpted it, I have done everything to it except love it. 


Now words of affirmation about the work that I have put in fall flat, I don’t see it! And I don’t know if I ever will, for I will always view myself through that broken mirror, and what I will forever see are imperfections that can also be beaten into formation.


Will it ever end? That I do not know, those words and feelings run deep, and every dumbbell is only but a bucket of sand I keep lifting and pouring; pouring into these ditches that have been created. Every squat or burpee that magical glue that will hopefully one day, seamlessly fix those cracks so I may be able to view myself through the right mirror.


The Son, Sunshine and Sunflowers...


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