by aphotoshooter/flickr
I’ve been very silent for the past week or so, both online and off. I don’t know what it’s about, really. I simply get hit by a wave of exhaustion when I think about… thinking, much less talking or writing. I’d love to blame it on the June Gloom that descends upon Los Angeles at this time of year, or an incredibly busy schedule, or an epic natural disaster but, alas, none of those hold up to scrutiny, or even a side glance. And since I have no idea what’s causing this current phase of misanthropy, I’m not sure what to do to get out of it. Which is why I’m now purging on the page.
Not that I’m expecting you to sift through my bile or trudge along as I write myself out of the vagueness– or actually, that’s exactly what I’m asking of you.
If you’ve been around here a bit, you know that I spent most of 2009 in tears. The tears stopped in 2010 and I thought:
WHOOPPEE!
I’m done.
I never have to feel sad again.
Everything will now fall magically into place.
I deserve a fairytale ending, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!
Oh, and look, there’s some chocolate.
Let me eat THAT for breakfast, lunch AND dinner…
And down the rabbit hole I went…
Have I ever mentioned that I use food like others use alcohol or heroine? Not in the recreational use kind of way, no. That wouldn’t be so bad. In fact, there’s a twisted sexiness to that use of addictive substances. Or at least I’d be skinnier.
But no.
Instead I (choose?) to use food because I frequently feel like my head screams a version of the following:
CHECK ME OUT OF THIS EMOTION THING NOW – I DON’T LIKE IT - I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING – WHAT AM I DOING – MY LIFE IS UNMANAGEABLE – OH MY GOD THE DISHES ARE DIRTY AGAIN – WHERE IS THE GODDAMN KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOUR – THERE’S MOLD IN MY BATHROOM – HOW DOES EVERYONE ELSE KNOW HOW TO NAVIGATE EXISTENCE – WHY AM I NOT FAMOUS AND BEING FED SEEDLESS GREEN GRAPES – I WILL BE A SINGLE, CAT LADY FOREVER – I AM MORE PATHETIC THAN THE ROTTING TURD ON A DEAD CORPSE IN THE RAIN – THE WORLD IS FULL OF IDIOTS – EVERYTHING WOULD BE BETTER IF I CONTROLLED THE WORLD – PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME MAKE A DECISION – MY BRAIN IS A HAMSTER WHEEL SPINNING SPINNING SPINNING – PLEASE STOP AND SHUT THE FUCK UP NOW
Consistent consumption of food has worked better than any Bose silencing headphones to reduce the chatter. Of course, it also silences everything else. Not so good.
There’s a saying in 12 Step rooms that you know if someone is an addict when she calls 9-1-1 after breaking a nail. I wish I could say that was an exaggeration.
Laundry piles defeat me. Dirty tubs defeat me. Wardrobe decisions defeat me. People defeat me.
I’ve been known to binge on snap peas, for crap-sake.
About seven years ago, I got help. I was tired of avoiding birthday parties because of an overwhelming sense that I would ruin the event by showing up and being fat. I hated the shame of broken promises to myself about things I would or wouldn’t eat, activities I would or wouldn’t do. I’d started hiding food even when no one was around from whom I needed to hide anything. I was done with feeling entirely hopeless and helpless.
Then, things got better. So very, very much better.
But now, I find myself once again looking at invitations with dread, breaking promises to myself, not showing up for others in the ways I wish. I am a turtle shrinking into my shell.
by littleREDelf / flickr
This is familiar terrain on which I tread, but I have NO INTEREST in taking routes already walked.
My heart is that of an explorer.
So I’m lifting up my machete, with this purge of words, and stepping into the wilderness once again. I’m scared and uncomfortable and already doubting the sense of leaving behind the comfort of isolation and silence.
BREATHE DEEP. Off I go…
