8th grade science.

i stretched out on the couch - "my" couch - as i half-absently listened to him run down his list of reality checks, raising awareness to what my life has become in the absence of my old, destructive lifestyle.

"i mean," he continued, in his sarcastic, driving-the-point-home tone, "you haven't been using any behaviors, have you?"  i snapped back into real-time.  behaviors, i mulled. i repeated the word in my head a few times, waiting for the definition to register in my brain.  what kind of behav--.

"oh!  i didn't know what you meant at first," i finally responded.  "it's been so long since the word 'behavior' has even been brought to my attention, let alone having one be used."

"then, i make my point."  his point was that i was living life, not - as the saying goes - "just surviving."  i was out, i was working my ass off to pay for my newfound lifestyle, i was nourishing myself to be able to work my ass off for 40 - 50 hour weeks, i was spending time with my friends.  i was taking back what belongs to me.  it felt pretty damn good.  what felt almost as good was knowing the faith and trust that my treatment team had in my stage of recovery.  he knew i was fine and i know what it sounds like when he knows i'm not.  i hadn't heard that tone in his voice since last october.

as i headed out the door of his office building and onto the sidewalk, a feeling in my legs drew my eyes downwards.  i was wearing my favorite running shorts, which seemed to cover more surface area when i first bought them.. approximately 8 years ago.  with each step, the shock of my sole hitting the pavement sent a wave up through my leg, resulting in what is known as "jiggle" to woman-kind.  it's physics, i thought.  action, reaction.  i couldn't help but smile to myself; it was such a simple concept!  i have mass, i have weight, i have a body that properly reacts to physical laws of nature.  how could this have ever upset me?  it's such a beautiful thing.