I met with my therapist yesterday, who I now see once a month. I go to her office and catch her up on my life and what’s happening, and then I see her a month later. I was also discharged from psychiatric care, and I see my dietitian once a month at the most. It still feels a little strange, considering the fact that, at the beginning of last year, I was in a residential facility and seeing multiple treatment-team members every day.
Now, when I see my therapist, I try to cover what is the biggest point of concern in my life. Yesterday, we ended up discussing me and my propensity towards being a passionate person.
For so long, my only passion was self-destruction. I stopped doing everything that I had once loved. I left all sports, I left performing, I left horses; all I focused on was how to ruin this existence as quickly and as effectively as possible. That was where I was at, though. I didn’t want this body because it didn’t “fit.” I didn’t want to deal with the obsessive thoughts and memories. I didn’t want to continue fighting when I didn’t think I had a reason for it. So, I stopped caring about myself. I stopped doing things I loved because I didn’t think I deserved to enjoy anything. I took my passion for activities and life, and I turned it against myself. I have made peace with the me that hated myself. I forgive that me, because I didn’t know any better at the time. That me was doing the best they could.
But today, I am a different version of me. Still the same person, just with a different outlook. Recently, I’ve felt a little lost without something to target with all of the passion I have for life and living.
I have been watching the Olympics all week, and every event I watch leaves me in awe. These people, regardless of their sport, their age, their gender, etc.–they have passion. They are dedicated, through and through, to their sport. The have spent lifetimes training and preparing, and no matter the outcomes of the Olympics, they will likely continue to do so for a very long time; they love what they do. You don’t become good at something because you don’t love it. You become good at something because you have dedicated your time and energy to it, and it makes you feel like a better version of you.
I was recently encouraged by my dietitian and my doctor to step-up my exercise for blood pressure reasons, and directly after that the doctor that has been treating my back for herniated disks and arthritis told me I could do whatever physical activity I wanted to (which is to say that if you are NOT supposed to be exercising, DO NOT EXERCISE).
Taken together, I have decided that it is time to find a new physical passion. I danced aerial styles of dancing for quite some time, and I loved it, but there aren’t many opportunities here. I’m looking into a variety of new activities and sports, trying to set-up a team for intramural soccer this fall, and I started running again about a month ago. I am being cautious to make sure that I am not over-exercising and under-eating, but it hasn’t been a problem so far.
There is something to be said about having an activity that is yours. Something that you can do for yourself. I love being physically active. I have loved it all of my life. I am not a person that enjoys being idle or slowing down. There is so much that I can do with this body, and I am just beginning to learn again what that entails. I am excited to, and hopeful that I will, find a new activity which I am passionate about.