Sniffles

I have had a lingering cold for a week. Or thereabouts. Sore scratchy throat, snotty nose, headache. It hasn't been terrible, just annoying.

Yesterday was the worst of it. Also, I was just weepy. Weepy and mad over being a smoker who is a non-smoker again, disappointed in "it's not enough" weight loss, sad that I have to spent my time thinking about what nutrition to put in my mouth. I thought that was all done with, but no, it's like having about a year off from thinking about food. It was a glorious year.

And then James. I'm walking down the street going into work, not smoking, but furiously chomping nicorette (yay me) and I realize something. I am afraid to love him anymore than I already do, because when he's not there anymore, it will kill me. I will be devastated. This is after reading about the woman who lost her finance the day before the wedding to a car accident and other such stories. For the first time, I thought, what if that happened to me, or to him?

It was like a light turned on. You love him so much and are so happy that you are afraid that you are going to lose him, so you don't want to love him expotentially anymore, because right now it would hurt, but anymore love poured into each other it would kill, torture and maime you. You would never get over it. The loss would be so severe that it is better to stop now and not get hurt.

It was like a record scratched against the needle. I heard my own thoughts and that little voice in my head that said Get Out Now.

Ummmm.

Stop-- Kimmie time.

WTF? Give up a day with him, give up an hour with him, give up a lifetime to be safe and not feel the highs and lows together? Stop loving him so much to get the security of never having to feel something tragic or beautiful or lovely? Hurt him now to save my own potential hurt later?

I realized something so beautiful. That voice in my head wants to protect me. She tells me to stop loving so much, like she tells me chips are okay, have another drink, try this piece of chocolate, carrot cake is good for you, you can survive without the raise, one cigarette won't hurt, maybe you aren't good enough, etc. She wants to keep me safe from all those things that are too scary, too harmful, too vulnerable, and she never wants me to feel anything but secure. She's a mother to that little girl in me who is scared and looking for guidence. She only wants to protect. She wants me to survive-- that voice created to keep myself out of trouble and tucked away so that I don't make too much of a big deal.

It's too bad that voice clamoring around in my head just got found out. Now I am on the hunt. I'm looking out for her opinions on my life, habits and journey that would have me be safe and secure. It's not that I don't want to be safe, but when I am going through life out of fear of something, and making decisions based on that, I am not living and thriving-- only surviving.

After I realized that, my heart was just filled with love, for me, for James. For the world. For everyone that is scared, everyone that gets in their own way. For survivors. For everyone with and without that voice.

Sniffles.

So it's the cold, a little bit. It's also the pride. I am so damn proud of me and what I have done and what I am doing and what I will accomplish in the future. Identifying the voice, a very good step along the way.

Happy Wednesday.