Trust

I think the only way to live life is to take chances and say yes to new experiences and challenges. Rather than focusing on what could potentially go wrong, maybe it’s better to focus on what you’re missing out on. By saying no to opportunities, you’re staying safe. You’re staying with what you’ve always done and always known, meaning that will always be.
‘If you do what you’ve always done, you’ll only get where you’ve always got’
I am trying to apply this to myself right now. I was recently provoked into thinking about what this illness still prevents me from doing and eating, and honestly, that list is far too long for my liking. But how do I go about reducing that list? My taking chances.
The thing is, I don’t trust myself to face the challenge. The get me through it safely without too much pain or harm. I know that when facing a fear for the first time, it is stressful but with each exposure, it can only become easier.
What if I eat too much? What if I gain weight? What if I lose weight? Will I manage the guilt?
The list of possible ‘what if’s?’ is endless. But I am beginning to ask why exactly it is that I don’t trust myself. I’ve come this far with only one source of (unprofessional) support, so there is no valid reason as to why I cannot continue. I don’t have to stop here and I certainly don’t want to stop here.
What if I actually enjoy it? What if there is no anxiety? You might actually be OK?
The answers to any of those questions can’t be answered unless I actually attempt the challenge. I won’t know unless I try and if the outcome is negative then at least I can say that I tried and I now know. I believe the odds are actually stacked in my favour. I have proof that 11 months on, from rock bottom, I am actually in much better and happier place. I just have to trust myself that bit more.