#iWin

A few days ago I posted the following on Twitter/Facebook:

Me: Three Cups of H2O and made homemade almond butter before 7a.

The woman across from me: hacking her lungs out & smoking before 7a.

#iWin

Not long after that post I received a message from a long time friend: Maybe it’s just me but that status this morning about you drinking water and almond butter and the other woman sounded like a whole lotta smug to me. The work you’ve done in overcoming some serious addictions is awesome, but not everyone is you. And while I’m also a recovering addict, there are no winners and I always feel very lucky I was able to pull myself out of the deep hole of death because frankly, most addicts Never do. I doubt you meant that status as smug or hurtful, but it definitely came off that way to me. 

Now before I go on with the post let me just preface what I am about to write with this – I used to smoke. I used to be a drug addict. I used to be morbidly obese.

I’ve had a few days to sort of “sit” with what she said to me and I wanted to spend a little time in a safe space (my blog) to sort through some thoughts about her reaction to my early morning tweet and my reaction to her reaction.

I never intended this to come off as smug or a “better than thou”, but rather a reminder of who I used to be and who I am typing this blog post today. Not that long ago at 7a I would have been much like the woman that lives across from me. I would have put on some xxl sweat pants and an xxl large hoodie and turned on my computer to boot up World of Warcraft. While my laptop was warming up; I was outside on the porch warming up my lungs with a cigarette.

Go back another 20 or so years and at 7a I wasn’t booting up my computer to play a video game. I was wandering the streets waiting for the bus to take me home after being up for 3 days shoving Meth up my nose and watching my friends literally take the plunge and move on to needles. When they did that, I went outside and shoved a smoke in my mouth and prayed that would never be me.

It could have easily been me.

I am not better than my neighbor who waves when I come back from a long run and watches me stretch on the stairs as she lights up another smoke. I don’t know her well enough to tell her my story. I don’t know her well enough to say “I know I don’t look like it but I used to be right where you are”. The moment she opens the proverbial door even just a crack I’ll be there to let her in on my little 270 pound secret.

But let me be very clear: I do win.

If it comes off as smug then it’s okay with me.

Today and everyday I deserve to say “I win”.

I win because my mother, who died of brain cancer at the age of 52; 7 months after being diagnosed with lung cancer, can’t see me run across the finish line of a race or put her arms around me and tell me how proud she is of her only daughter. I win because my friends who pushed the needle into their arms hoping to find comfort from a life they thought never could get better, will never know that it does indeed get better if you just keep fighting. I win because the big brother I’m supposed to be able to rely on would rather lie to my face reeking of alcohol than admit he needs help.  I win because people I loved and cared for deeply chose food addictions over everything else in their lives, including themselves and died alone from diabetic complications.

I win because at some point in my life I looked in the mirror all I saw was a loser. So much self hate and loathing, physically punching myself in the head because I couldn’t stand the sight of my own face. Forcing myself to eat so that I could force myself to be sick because that was the only time I could find relief in the angst of living in my body.

I win because against the odds, I’ve yet to end up like my mother, my brother or my friends of a past long not forgotten.

Everyday I wake up and there are two paths to take. One that will take me forward. One that will take me backwards. I know both paths very well. I’ve been on them. I’ve seen my mother and brother on them. I’ve seen my friends on them. I know how fragile those paths are and I don’t take it lightly. Everyday is a constant battle both on my emotional stability and my physical strength. All I think about is how to keep myself on the “move forward” path because it wouldn’t take much to be on the other side.

Today I registered for something that I never could have imagined as a drug addict. Never in a million years as a morbidly obese woman on the verge of her own version of diabetes would I have even considered training for what it says I’m going to be doing June of 2013. I push everyday because my mother will never have the chance to change. I push everyday because my friends long gone will never have the chance to change. I push everyday because you can’t come back from the dead after a diabetic coma.

I push everyday because someone somewhere is going to come across this blog and for the first time in their lives that tiny spark of “maybe I deserve to change” will ignite and I want it to burn so fierce that nothing stops them. I want them believe that every time you make the choices and decisions to take you one step away from your old self and closer to your new self you win. I push everyday because one morning maybe the lady across from me will strike up a conversation about why I’m out doing what I’m doing instead of striking up a match. My friend was right in saying that we are lucky we pulled ourselves out of that deep hole of death called addiction because most addicts don’t but she was wrong about the “there are no winners” part…

Do you hear me?

She’s wrong.

I AM a winner.

She IS a winner.

YOU ARE A WINNER!