Maybe someday I’ll lose weight and make a million dollars a day and save all the dogs and help my family and run a marathon (this somehow seems the least likely to me) and watch my own show on TV and save the planet/reverse climate change and travel everywhere on my list.
The least likely one of those is actually lose weight. I don’t know why. I probably don’t care about it all that much. When I’m tired/bored/anxious/sad/annoyed/tired again/any other feeling, food seems like the only thing that makes me feel better at all.
Day 123 – Weighed Down
YOU GUYS. If I’m not having an anxiety attack, I must be asleep. Actually, I have anxiety even when I’m sleeping so never mind. Constant anxiety.
I am missing him so much. I don’t know what to do with myself. WHAT IF HE STOPS LOVING ME WHILE HE’S AWAY? That would be weird, right? Right? I can’t tell. Is this why people take meds?
My parents’ dog is not doing well. My mom will be devastated. Too much tragedy for my family. We do not have the greatest coping mechanisms, but we do have the worst. Like usual, I am dealing with all my feelings by watching TV and eating. What do other people do? When will I have better coping skills? Help.
Day 109 – So many feelings.
We talked it out. Maybe I need to calm myself, but I don’t know how. Other people must be really good at life, because they seem to be succeeded and, even, flourishing.
I don’t get it. I just cycle through panic attacks and in between (and during them), eat a ton of food. So it goes like this: wake up, moan about being awake, start to panic (heart beating fast) so I check my phone to make sure no one has tried to get ahold of me, pee, eat, panic again about the time it took me to pee and eat because I have to get to work, start driving aka constantly panicking (heart beating fast, stomach roiling, sweaty palms, racing thoughts about how everyone is a terrible driver), get to work, panic about everything from parking to the parking attendant to getting inside to sitting down without my stomach popping over my pants to whether or not the coffee creamer I like will still be there, eat second breakfast, panic about work and whether or not I can do it and how much I want to run out the door and get on a plane and fly far away, then snack. It’s now 10 am. This will continue until I attempt to fall asleep.
Day 105 – Anxiety and Coffee
I am ready to move forward on losing this sadness weight. Food tastes really good though, y’all.
But my pants don’t fit. And they only get so stretchy. I’d like to comfortably wear jeans. Are there people who comfortably wear their jeans? Like, they don’t have those markings on their stomach when they get home (actually, starting five seconds after putting them on)?
I have a complete outline of the design of my pants on my stomach. And these ARE the stretchy ones. So I need to fix this, fast. Is there any way I can keep eating pizza and the delicious cookie in my hand and still lose weight? Help.
Day 101 – Still sad-fat.
Well, I suck. What can I say? I keep missing days.
I felt good today. Useful, productive, dare I say – happy?!? I like the people at my job and the work keeps me distracted for the most part. I left work feeling like I’d actually done something with my day, had some fun interactions, and then had the evening free to do whatever I wanted (TV and food, obviously).
Am I forgetting? Am I a bad person? I felt relieved. I could breathe. Now that I realize this, it’s all gone.
Should I be grieving? Is this part of grieving?
I feel bad that I felt good. I’m ashamed.
Day 95 – Less grief, then more grief
I have about 50 extra pounds of sadness on my body. Actual weight. That I’m trying to lose.
But, turns out, it’s hard to lose sadness by the pound. I can pick up the pounds just about anywhere, any time, any day but losing them is so much harder. They always find me.
I tried to lose them today… That went about as well as expected. I ate pizza when I got sad. A sandwich when the sadness came back. A brownie because brownies are delicious and I made the mistake of buying them.
You can physically see how sad I am. And when I go to the gym and see rail thin movie stars – true story, my gym is basically at a movie theatre where there was a premier today so I had to walk past them in shorts and a smelly t-shirt that’s fitted* – I was reminded of just how far I have to go. I can literally measure my sadness by the pound. And I can see how much I still have around. Pants don’t fit over my sadness stomach.
Day 94 – Weighed Down
*it’s supposed to be loose
I have my moments of realizing it’s a beautiful life and moments of thinking it’s hard and tonight I felt that combo very acutely. I am always trying to live my happiest, best, most beautiful life while feeling deeply sad in my very bones. And also while being the most cynical, pessimistic, anxious person on earth.
You can try to fight me on that, but you will not win.
The things we inflict on ourselves and our families and the ones we love with one choice or one action or even a series of choices or actions can haunt us and them for the rest of time. Why do we do these things? Why don’t we all make better choices? Why did I date ANY of the guys I’ve dated before? Why did I buy those flowery pants? Why did I see a dress I bought recently in People Magazine on the body of an 84-year-old? Why did I say that one thing that one time (this question can apply to almost anything I’ve ever said to anyone at any time)? Why why why?
Life can be so beautiful. I think it’s meant to be. But then we fuck it all up with moving away from our families and living alone and working long days and driving everywhere and long commute hours and short vacation time and limited financial resources and interacting with idiots.
These thoughts run through my head a lot. When I eat all the foods, the anxiety gets full and bloated and needs a nap, so I get a short break from them but they always return. Today they reappeared like an angry pimple on a 16-year-old’s face the day before Prom. Go. The Fuck. Away.
Day 67 – Choices Choices Choices
Another tough day. When will it get easier? When will I be able to function normally again? Ever?
I tried to write today but couldn’t due to stressful circumstances and the endless grief. Then I tried to watch Netflix to distract myself, but instead bit off all my fingernails that I’d finally grown out and ate a bag of Milanos. Wouldn’t want to stop there, so I also ate half a baguette and drank 5 glasses of iced tea and a bag of Smart Food, THEN I finally put on a bra at 8 PM to leave the house and realized I haven’t showered in 4 days. I left anyway.
Grief is hard. It’s very distracting and emotionally draining and devastating and makes it nearly impossible to do anything useful with your time. I’m supposed to have a script done by tomorrow, but I can’t focus on it and just keep randomly cutting out lines of dialogue or deleting sections or adding new ones in that don’t make sense and don’t fit. So I took an appropriate-length 30 page script and turned it into 40 pages and then got distracted by cookies and stress.
Day 65 – Grief Sucks
I got one little nibble today and even though it’s nothing, it’s still toeing the line with SOMETHING ACTUALLY HAPPENING, so I’ll take it. I got a job interview for next week. To actually do something that I want to do. It’s a start, a step. A little part of me wanted to curl up on my couch and ignore it instead (read: a very big part of me), but I didn’t (yet) and I accepted the interview.
I really want waffles and eggs and everything covered in maple syrup – damn you, Parks and Recreation. There’s just something about the way that show deals with breakfast food…
To the important things: I had a mild-medium panic attack today. I have no idea if I’m ever doing the right thing. Work? Grieve? Nap? Move? Stay where I am? Curl up into a ball and cry? Watch comedy? Eat all the ice cream? Move back to Colorado? Keep on the path I’m on? Try something different? LIFE IS SO HARD! Who has the answers to these things? How does anyone ever figure out how to navigate the world correctly? Is there some like secret list of information somewhere that everyone is reading except for me?
I have extreme career anxiety. I believe very strongly in hard work and a good work ethic. BUT SOMEONE HAS TO HIRE ME. Yes, I also have to be a good fit for them. AND YES I have to earn it. Shhhhh, I KNOW.
But every day that goes by that I am not working gives a little caffeine jolt to my anxiety and then I return to the cry-nap-eat cycle I seem to be so fond of. I am amazed I have friends, to be honest.
Day 58 – Life Is Hard
I was a hot damn mess today. Yes, an even messier mess than I usually am. I attempted to do something useful: I applied to and got rejected from several jobs. All in a day’s (unpaid) work…
And then I almost got in about three accidents…. Shhhh don’t tell anyone. It was apparently DRIVE LIKE AN IDIOT DAY here and people would just randomly merge/change lanes into the side of me so I had to either swerve out of their way or brake hard to prevent the accident. Oh, you’ve never celebrated DRIVE LIKE AN IDIOT DAY? Weird.
By the end of the day, after a Scion, Fit, and AN AMBULANCE tried to take me out, I felt a kinship to Carrie Underwood and was just like, JESUS, TAKE THE WHEEL! That must’ve been what happened because despite the terrible traffic and people driving like they were in bumper cars at a county fair after too much hard lemonade and cotton candy, I made it home. Jesus for the win!
But it was early when I made it back. Too early. I had to actually do something with my day (not sure why, but that seems to be a thing), so post-rejection emails, I decided to do laundry, but laundry kind of does itself so I was lost. I watched some Netflix (we’re all shocked, I know). I texted some people job interview questions in case I didn’t get any more… Never mind, in came the last few rejections, so no need to answer how quickly I can learn AVID.
The evening got markedly better, except for the Mexican food I ordered with pollo because I don’t eat red meat and then cue the red meat hidden under my guacamole ruining not only the bowl, but more importantly RUINING MY GUACAMOLE. So many struggles. But you know what I learned? Very little. Don’t eat Mexican food after 9 PM because they hide carne asada in it? Never trust people to know how to merge? Stay home? Stop applying to jobs because it hasn’t happened and it’s been 8 years of searching? These are all great life lessons. I feel really good about myself. Proud, even.
I’m going to go curl up in a ball now.
Day 39 – Staying home > Going out EVERY SINGLE TIME