When I gave up the fight with the scale, I lost the weight. It seemed the more I weighed myself, the more the scale had its way. I saw it mocking me every morning and even more every evening. I made it worthy of my torment for hours and days after by allowing it to show me what bothered me. Not only I allowed it, I sought it. And because I gave it so much attention, what I saw defined who I was at the time. And who I was, was an unhappy person depending on the results of the scale.
I was slaved to it.
Obsessions are slaving.
There are many kinds of obsessions and they all seem to creep on the emotional.
And when the obsessions are of an emotional nature the trip is even tougher.
Pursuing a lost love that mocks your feelings like the scale did mine. Playing the mind games, “if I lose this much weight then …” “If I behave this way then…” Games to be loved.
There is no rationalizing an obsession. The emotional toll is simply overpowering. The anguish felt after is painful.
How stupid and obsessive.
Easy for me to say now that I don’t depend on the scale or…a lost love.I don’t know what the magic key to the door of freedom is. Is it progressive or a BANG that wakes you up? At some point we reach a healthy state where obsessions are not welcome or allowed and they get purged out of our systems.
I still have a scale and occasionally I step on it, but its result does not determine my happiness.