Last time I made a 40 day commitment to something I started writing every day. It often sucked. To find time in my jumbled schedule to take on something new. Some days I'd wake up with an idea and boom - I was all set. Other days I'd barely have time to jot down a few thoughts in a rare moment of quiet in the craziness.
This time I'm giving something up. Taking away a source of comfort, of nurturing, of soothing myself when things are hard. Which they so often are. And after years (and years) of denying myself it's makes this even more challenging. Not that this part is particularly difficult. I've trained myself to for this. I've given up sugar before. Anorexic willpower is a powerful force. Denial is familiar. Comfortable. Easy.
But it's bringing up so much. I haven't been this anxious since I was in my last year of design school, juggling a full time job, my portfolio, 6 workouts a week and a lot of therapy. I've fallen into this bleak place as if time's stopped and there's nothing to look forward to. I cry every day. I feel powerless, hopeless, at times on the edge of a breakdown.
And in wondering, is it worth it? To be in this much pain? Or will I come out the other side with my body in a healthier place and my mind catching up?
I don't know yet.