motivation (and inspiration)

I know, another picture of shoes.  But there's a reason, I swear.  And it's not the shoes (although I do love them to death) -- it's the socks.  Yes, the somewhat wacky lime and pink argyle socks that peek out from under my otherwise staid jeans and black top.

They were a Christmas present last year from my youngest sister, who is in high school.  Everyone in my family knows of my insane love for socks, but these are a little more...colorful...than I usually go.  While I probably wouldn't have bought them myself, I love them because they came from my sister.

I'm the oldest of five girls, two of whom are still in high school.  There's a 10-year gap between me and the youngest, which means I don't have the history of screaming matches with the youngest two that I have with the older two.  The relationship is simply different, and I have a huge sense of responsibility toward the two little (or now not so little) ones.

I think they know bits and pieces of what I've been through, but my parents have for the most part managed to shield them from the whole story.  But they had to say something when I spent Christmas break in inpatient (and then outpatient, after I decided inpatient could kiss my ass) eating disorder treatment, so they know I've had problems with food.  They still look up to me, though, and so far seem to have escaped the family genetic predisposition toward depression and anxiety.

I'm terrified, though, that they won't escape, especially as they approach the age when my problems with depression and eating started in earnest.  I feel powerless, and I figure the best thing I can do for them is to be there as much as possible (while living in another state) and to model a healthy, balanced life.  I don't want them to look to me and see me having a tortured relationship with food and exercise.  I want them to look to their big sister and see someone they can emulate, someone who can show them there's life beyond the scale and the enormous pressure society places on young women.

Wearing the loud socks they give me helps me remember that.