Fight, Flight (or Freeze). Moving is dangerous.

Six months or so ago I took on project of sorts, maybe more of an assignment that I accepted, to whittle down to the 'one thing' i wanted to commit my energy to. It started with taking the time to jot down every single thing I wanted to accomplish, from the craziest, big thing to the tiniest little detail. Then sort through them, narrow, narrow, narrow over the course of several days until I got to "the one thing."

It was surprising to me what I whittled down to. It truly never would have occurred to me that it was something I was longing for. I surveyed the list of crossed out things, it held really dear desires like finishing the production of Positano, and becoming a good writer, but what rose to the top was ‘being supple’.

I wasn't sure what I meant by that, but it felt like a root-level need. I could feel a power of longing that was overwhelming. I wanted to be able to move. 

So I set about exploring it. What would it take to be supple? What did I mean by supple? 

I went to the dictionary, I love understanding my instinctual attraction to certain words. Here's what I found:  bending and moving easily and gracefully. Grace is one of my words, that felt good. Agile, that felt good. Nimble, ok. Pliant. hmmm. Yielding. Ugh oh. No.

I decided to go with moving easily and gracefully.

I do not move easily or gracefully. In fact I have trouble moving. I weigh more than my body was designed for. My back is wiley, slipping in and out of functional, I have a long neck that can be lovely but is prone to nerve pinches, my legs ache and cramp, my left foot sometimes screams at me. I fall easily and often.

I long to be active, mentally I feel fantastic after a long walk even though there are pains that howl. I love to swim but don't because I can't bear how I look in a swimsuit. 

I have stretches where it feels like I'm making progress, daily walks for weeks at a time with no fall, gardening and house chores with no back pain that stops me cold.

I have extreme guilt about this, I hear the voice in my head saying that really I'm just lazy. If I were to get my fat ass moving more often it would all resolve itself. 

So supple is a herculean challenge.

I started with a simple commitment to explore it. The dictionary and a plan. 

I love to garden, so summer is the perfect time to give myself physical assignments. I found a masseuse that was open to the idea that I was exploring 'supple', we agreed a schedule of massages over the course of the summer and she has had powerful suggestions like yin yoga. A wonderful practice. 

And I've had so many set backs through the summer, neck pain that stalls me, back spasms that have literally made me scream. What? I have not taken on any aggressive activities, I'm being wildly gentle with my body.

I have been working on promoting Positano during this time.
And doing research for Hudson:  during this time.
I have made myself vulnerable in ways that I knew would be difficult, but had no idea how difficult. Like black night of the soul difficult. 

In the midst of this I read Roxane Gay's book Hunger. The book is about her body. The book is blunt, truthful, so painful to read. So worth it. She was raped at 12-years old and created a cage around her body (her words) to protect herself. I understand that. She talked about dieting, about how she would find a way to get into a groove and feel great, but then something would trigger her and all bets were off.

And that sparked a very frightening, dark knowing in me.

Moving is dangerous.

In other research I came across the idea that "freeze" is part of our panic system. Fight or flight, we all know. There's also freeze. Freeze is particularly prevalent in children who are being abused. That was news to me. Liberating news.

When I was raped I was pinned down, my mouth and nose covered to the point that I could not breath. I have been aware of being claustrophobic for most of my life, I have been prone to hyperventilation and have developed good coping skills, but this summer I came to be conscious of this idea that moving feels dangerous to me.

If I move my body I will experience pain, or humiliation.

I don't know if it feels more liberating or more Sisyphean to have this sense. But I do know that I'm going to do the work of undoing it, or using it.

I don't know how I'm going to do it. I need help. I'm asking around for a psychotherapist to help, a physical therapist to help. I'd like to unplug this reaction that moving my body is dangerous.

I understand my "ugh oh" reaction to 'pliant' a bit more for having had the dark night of the soul, and I'd still like to be supple.

I'd still very much like to move my body with ease and grace. My body. 

Hunger

Research for the novel Hudson:
A New Novel from Roxane Gay, Hunger
 

from The New Yorker:
Gay also used the platform (Tumblr) to discuss the culture’s punishing relationship with aspects of her own identity: fatness, bisexuality, and blackness. She wrote about the murder of Jordan Davis and, powerfully, about her rape at the age of twelve.

 It is curious to be reminded, in Gay’s new memoir, “Hunger,” that she was first drawn to online forums by the promise of anonymity. The memoir deals with her rape, her overeating, and her struggles with her public and private identities. Before the dawn of avatars, she lived on IRC, “an old-school chat program with thousands of channels populated by thousands of lonely people who were mostly interested in talking dirty to one another.” The memory contrasts with the tone of the book, in which Gay is constantly defining and defending herself against others’ expectations. Increasingly, she has become not just a writer but a spokesperson. Gay, who rejects the ideal of “(th)inner woman” while also wishing that she could herself be smaller, has drawn the ire of fat-acceptance advocates, who presumably wish that Gay were a less equivocal role model. In “Hunger,” she writes candidly of her position, returning to the theme of contradictions: “I have been accused of being full of self-loathing and being fat-phobic. There is truth to the former accusation and I reject the latter. I do, however, live in a world where the open hatred of fat people is vigorously tolerated and encouraged. I am a product of my environment.”