Epiphany

Holy Cow. I just had a huge epiphany. I mean life changing awakening.
Here's what happened: A friend and I were talking about finishing unfinished projects. I rarely finish projects. I have THOUSANDS (I'm not even exaggerating)of unfinished projects. THOUSANDS.
As we were chatting I heard myself saying out loud (so even I could hear it): "Unfinished projects make you feel needed. Like you matter. If you always have a project to go back to, you'll never be lonely or bored. You have an existence."
As I heard the words spill out of my mouth my heart took a leap. It was like the rope that had been strangling it was suddenly cut free and the blood to my soul could pump again. Do you suppose that's the road block to all the goals I've been trying to meet without success for oh-so-long?!
What I know now is that those unfinished goals and projects are not really keeping me alive, they're drowning me. Slow suicide.
One of the issues I've been dealing with again is my self esteem and weight loss. (Yes, AGAIN. I am so sick of it too!) One of my friends asked me what purpose being heavy served. It's been asked again and again and I've never really been able to come to a clear answer.
Yes, it is the isolation and insulation that I crave in a world that often seems too cruel in which to exist. It is the excuse to fail. It is the armor to protect my heart against the expectations no human could ever meet. And now, it's clear to me that the 150 pounds of bricks I carry around makes me feel substantial. It makes me feel like I can always play the victim and that if people can't see the real me, they can at least take pity upon me. I guess there is a part of me that feels like only my true friends like me at 300 pounds. Those that only want to be my friend because of what I do or how I look won't bother. They assume I'm stupid. The weight allows me to fit in instead of stand out. The more my heart has been broken over this lifetime, I've added more and more weight in hopes of being big enough to withstand the unbearable pain.
Food has offered me that comfort of unconditional love and warmth when it felt like the world was crashing down upon me. I had to be externally heavy to withstand the internal pressure.
As I uttered those words today I felt the pressure start to lift. As if acknowledging the falsehood was the sledgehammer I needed to break the pressure --the knife I had been seeking to cut the rope that has been squeezing the air from my soul.
There is this fear in me that if I shed the pounds, if I take care of myself like I should that I might somehow be more lonely than I already am. I understand that is the addiction talking and not the real me. I'm no longer the little girl bounced around to the next safe haven. I am not the teenager that was just "too much". I am not the conquest. I am an adult in control of my own destiny. My own choices. I can set my own boundaries when I choose, rather than letting someone else draw the lines for me. I don't have to be anything I don't want to be.
I'm not saying that this is the miracle that will suddenly make everything alright. Nor am I saying my journey ahead will be smooth and well paved. I am saying that as I walk the road ahead of me I can so with a lighter load.
Those unfinished projects are simply potholes I can choose to fall in -- or I can finish the project and repair.
I have never not had an eating disorder. It's attached to me like an umbilical cord. In some cases it has allowed me to survive when I didn't think I could. Looking at it at this moment it's a cord that is filling my heart with toxic beliefs and my mind with poison.
It's time to cut the cord.