"What's Your Passion?"

While deep in conversation with a colleague, she turns to me, and inquires, "so what's your passion?"

Taken aback, I paused, thought, and after an awkward minute, responded, "I don't know."  That question has plagued me ever since.

What is that thing from which I derive pleasure, satisfaction, and fulfillment?  For over twenty years, all of my drive and energy was aimed at the eating disorder.  I had no room for silly hobbies, no time to explore my interests.  While my peers explored their budding independence and curiosities, I was on a treadmill, or in the bathroom, or locked away in a room, isolated.  Now that my passion obsession has dissipated, what is next?

For a time, the act of recovery became my passion.  I attended groups, therapy, doctor and nutrition appointments, following my meal plan as prescribed.  I did yoga, journaled, read books on recovery, and went to acupuncture.  Recovery consumed my days and my energy.  And, it was quite honestly a relief.  If I couldn't have the eating disorder, I needed something to fill all that empty space it left behind.

Now, however, I am beyond the need for all of that intervention.  I am stable, eating intuitively, spending time with friends, and generally, just enjoying life.   But, and there's always a but, I feel stuck.  In trying to rediscover "me," I've realized that there is a whole "me" left undiscovered.

The simple answer to this problem would be just to try out some things, but I'm never quite sure how to begin, where to begin, and if I should begin.  I feel like a teenager, and I also feel a tad bit paralyzed.  Instead of risking the possibility that I may actually find a passion, and then consequently, pursue it with the same fervor as the eating disorder, I do nothing.  I may not be moving backward, but I'm definitely not moving forward.

And, maybe, just maybe, I remain in this paralysis intentionally, never allowing myself to truly attach myself to any one thing (or things).  Because, what if I actually discovered something to replace to the eating disorder?  What if I truly became a whole person?

It strikes me as so odd that eating disorders are illnesses in which recovery is so feared.  Eating disorders can and do kill; they rot joy and ravage hope, and yet, we cling white-knuckled, sweating and wincing to hold on for dear life.  Ironic how willingly, yet unconsciously, we relinquish ourselves to them.

So, in the end, what I really need to do is that which I fear the most: move on.  There are no excuses.  I can't be too tired, too overworked, too bored, too busy, too unsure, too ignorant, or too whatever else I could possibly be.  I need to have an answer to that very simple question.  I need to have that answer because I need to be free.

Cheers!