Real – A Year to Grieve

I am avoiding talking about all the real things. If I talk about the thing that makes me paralyzingly sad, I will be too sad to function. Duh. But really. It’s true. If I talk about my favorite TV shows and ice cream and the dumb thing I did today, then I can keep moving and breathing and getting out of bed.

I write this to be cathartic, but I don’t often use it that way. I talk about my relationship. I bitch about work. I drool over a cookie I ate today. I write about politics and then delete it because it just makes me angry and instead talk about my dog.

How the actual fuck do people survive devastating things without annoying everyone around them or collapsing into an immovable ball of tears or both?

Day 115 – I…Sad.

I wish I could be one of those people who had sweets in their house and…not eat them. I thought I could convince myself to do that, but then I ate everything with sugar in it that I could find. And licked the wrappers. I’m fine. It’s fine.

In this never-gonna-happen scenario, dessert lasts longer than one night. Like, I make cookies and eat one tonight and maybe one tomorrow and then freeze the rest and eat some a month from now. But, like, are those people even real? I can’t do it. I’m not one of those people. I’m not. I have to eat all the cookies. Right away.

Sometimes I think – genuinely think – that people who “just aren’t into sweets” cannot be my friend. “I’m more of a salty person.” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? DO YOU HATE YOURSELF? I love potato chips, but I will not choose them over cake. And neither should you. Unless you’re a monster.

You’re a monster, aren’t you? Well, I’ve figured out how to distinguish the sociopaths from the rest of us. Try to let them eat cake.

Day 96 – Cookie Monster