So Full

Full. I am so full.  I know that I know what the feeling of fullness should feel like, yet I’m always at the limit of hitting my capacity.  I’ve had enough – of all of it.  Food, things, people trampling all over me like I’m their doormat. Limits have been met, reached, and I’m no longer here for it.  I’m full! Done.

While the above sentiment relates to so much more than food, I think I should probably limit my rant here to just that.  I could go on for eons how I’m over people telling me what to do, who to be, how to act and what to think.  I’m done with bossy. I’m my own boss. The strength lies within me! I’m done with everyone thinking they know what’s best for me and what I “truly want.” No, I don’t want a baby. No, I don’t need a mate to fulfill me.  I am enough.  I have enough.  I have more than enough.  I’m full.

Yet again, maybe I’m not full with what I truly wish was fulfilling me? Has that been what’s driving me all along?  I consume to fill up something.  The void. That void.  I strove for years to define and understand what that “emptiness” was.  I would shovel in whatever I could so I didn’t feel it.  So I didn’t feel alone. What was it?  Emptiness? Loneliness? Sorrow? After years of working on it I have concluded that, no, it’s not that.  Okay, sometimes it’s that.  Sometimes it’s way less profound. Boredom?  Sometimes it is a mind racing, and a stomach that can’t quite seem to pinpoint what it wanted, because it wanted everything.

Solidly entrenched into adulting hard I have found that consuming absolutely everything truly is sometimes the answer.  Actually, self-soothing is a way of giving myself respect and love.  It’s totally okay to make myself want to feel and be happy – if only for a fleeting moment getting a quick dopamine hit.  For what’s better in life than the little things that light us up and spark our interests that ignite our feelers?  To be lucky enough in life to actually feel full is a blessing, even if it feels like it’s in disguise.

I have a hard time with limits, because when I reach them I’ve had more than enough.  I have a very long fuse of accepting something that angers me “as is.”  However, when that fuse runs out I am done with it for good.  I have had enough!  Maybe that’s how change works?  You have the status quo keep going until you’ve hit your wall, your breaking point.  I know that is where I’m at with hating the state of my body and my relationship with food. I know that’s where I am at with being full.  I’ve crammed enough in.  I have eaten everything I had ever wanted.  I am done being full.