Day 191: What If…

Hi everyone,

From the beginnong  of my day, I wasn’t having a good body day. I don’t need to explain anymore at this point what that means. I was hating the way I look today, simple as that.

So, later I was browsing for some inspirational quotes like I do alot, and I came across this poem called If by Rudyard Kipling.

I must have read it at least fifteen times by now, and each time I discover that it makes me think about another aspect of my life. I will post the poem at the end of this post so everyone can read it.

But for me, the part  of the poem that stood out to me the most, considering the place I am in with my body at the moment is this part right here:

“If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools.”
 
“If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools”–this sentence is symbolic of Ed in my life right now.
 
I’ve spoken my truth about him, what he’s done to my body, to my mind, and to my life, very publicly on this blog.
 
I’ve exposed him. I’ve fought him. I’ve taken what were once my biggest fears about recovery, which is freedom from Ed, and turned them into my truths.
 
Ed is the knave who twisted this truth to make it a trap for fools.
 
Some days, I become Ed’s fool again. I don’t let him make me restrict, but I become his fool. I let him tell me my body is not good enough-and therefore, I am not good enough.
 
But like the poem says-even when the truth I’ve spoken is twisted, I can still bear to hear it.
 
I can still look in that mirror and say to myself that I am not stopping recovery now, just because Ed is telling me to.
 
“Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools.” This is where I am at today, and really, in my recovery as a whole.
 
I gave my life to Ed. Every second of it-every meal of it-every fun experience of it-every accomplishment in the past three years of it-I gave it all to Ed.
 
And now that life is broken.
 
It’s broken because I chose to break it. I chose to break free from Ed and start living in a world free of him.
 
But now that my life with Ed has been broken, I’ve been building it back up without him; a new life for myself.
 
As the poem says “Stoop and build em up with worn-out tools.”
 
No one is going to give me a new beautiful magic wand to build my life back up again. No one can give me a replacement body that will suddenly be good enough for Ed and I.
 
No one can do recovery for me, but me.
 
I am not a new soul. I am not a new person.
 
Essentially, I myself, am the worn-out tool that needs to find the strength within me to build my new life up.
 
And not only do I have to build my new life up, but particularly in this moment, I need to build my new self esteem up about this new healthier body of mine.
 
I’ve been building with these worn-out tools since day one-none of my recovery has ever been polished or easy.
 
But now, I need to find the balance between building up myself and my new life without Ed, and learning where to sit back and accept it for what it is.
 
Maybe right now, I need to stop building and start accepting?
 
Building has become so second nature to me, that I am scared I will never know how to simply accept.
 
I will not be a worn out tool forever.
 
Ed wore me down . But the more free of him I become, the more rejuvenated I will be.
 
The title of the poem is called If.
 
What if I really will be successful  with re-building my new life  and new self esteem without Ed?
 
What if I am already doing that, but I’m too busy building to take a step back and see it?
 
What if the time has come for this worn out tool to stop building, and start accepting?
 
Hello life.
 
 

If—

By Rudyard Kipling

(‘Brother Square-Toes’—Rewards and Fairies)

If you can keep your head when all about you
    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
    But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
    And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
    And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
    To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
    Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
    If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
 
 
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One thought on “Day 191: What If…

  1. I am so impressed with how deep you are. It takes a lot of insight to apply those lines to yourself. Keep up the good work. It’s hard work to change a person’s idea of themselves and you are doing good work.

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