The Three C's

While at the gym on Sunday, I was talking to a friend.

Last week, she wrote a social media post about addiction.

It was raw and real and so articulate. 

She spoke about her addiction, the way it effected her relationships, her children, her entire life.

She talked about the difficulties of recovery and how it is an everyday thing.

I told her how much I admired that.

It made me cry, in fact.

To be brutally honest about your addiction to an audience of people who believe, a) they are not addicts and, b) addicts are something other than what they actually are, is SO hard.

It's like talking to a wall.

A wall that spews ugliness back at you.

We talked about our addictions.

We talked about the daily challenge to work through them.

We talked about what addictions we have swapped our addictions for.

Remember, that's a thing.

She has swapped her addictions for the gym.

She is a body builder and works extremely hard at it.

Her husband is with her every single day and, together, they do this thing.

We talked about that, too...

How fortunate we are to have spouses who love us, support us, understand us, and root for our rise every single day.

We also talked about what it is like to be an addict.

To have an addictive personality.

I told her that I have gained 15 pounds since COVID.

I told her that I want to be healthy and fit again for my wedding.

I told her that my mind has gone back to the "power and control" I feel when I am in the depths of an eating disorder.

She nodded.

She got it.

She's an addict, too, afterall.

I told her that I haven't gone there yet.

And I told her that I feel that I am fighting everyday not to.

She told me about an app she uses, and how she uses it.

Without judgement.

Without arrogance.

Just with grace.

And understanding.

And support.

We talked about how, for those reasons, we love addicts.

We love 12-step programs.

We love groups full of addicts because there is only love and support and a complete lack of judgement.

This morning, I was at the gym alone...

Meaning without Mike.

He was out the door before I even got out of bed to go to the gym.

It was the first time that I have been to the gym at the butt crack of dawn in over a year.

There is a group of girls who goes in the mornings.

They are moms, I would assume.

Younger than I...

I used to compare myself to them every single morning.

I would crush myself.

Daily.

This morning, they walked in.

I smiled.

Then I went on with my workout.

Courage.

Clarity.

Confidence.

As treatment continues, the three c's become more a part of who I am.

And I like who I am.