I teared up no less than four times today when I thought about the goodbye I'm planning for the (very near) future. It's something I'm pretty sure none of the three people I teared up in front of could really understand. Not REALLY understand.
I decided some time ago that when I reached 150lbs lost, I was going to go skydiving. The assumption most people make is that I'm using it as a reward. Not at all. I'm not an adrenaline junkie. I'm not looking for the next big thrill. In fact, the thought of it scares me silly. But that's exactly why I'm doing it. Facing down my fears is all part of my process.
It's not a reward. It's a ritual. The deal is, the girl who gets on that plane is the girl who doesn't believe in herself and usually assumes nobody else does either. It's the girl who doesn't want anything to do with being "powerful" or an "inspiration". It's the girl who listens to all the negative messages in her head over and over and over. THAT girl has to go away. She was a nice girl, for all her flaws, but she can't live here anymore. Jumping will be my re-birth. A figurative scattering of the ashes.
And that's a little bit scary. It's hard to think about letting go of the person I have been most of my life. I want to hate her. It would be easier to let her go if I did. But I don't. She wasn't a bad person. She was good to everybody. Well, everybody but herself. She was pretty ruthless with herself. But still, she was always there. But she can't live here anymore.
I know it's not going to be so simple as jumping from a plane and expunging my demons. I know that girl will try to make contact with me. Probably quite a bit at first, but she'll eventually get the picture. I just know that in order to move forward, that girl can't live here anymore.
And that's a little bit scary.