Only I’m Trapped In Here

What have I learned?

That whenever you think you’ve screwed up, you haven’t.  The screwing up comes when you decide that you would rather work on perfecting, deepening, buffing and polishing your screw up than fixing it.  The old adage about falling down and getting back up again is really the only thing that matters.

We’ll see.  I am trying to think about this productively because it’s obvious to me that I have some sort of block.   Why year after year I try and lose weight and then year after year, some reason, some lack of will, some mental affliction crops up and I can’t, or won’t, or don’t until my weight rises back up to where I’m uncomfortable and frustrated as hell and I lose that little bit off the top that makes me understand how to do it.

It’s like tomorrow…the snow will have melted back down to manageable levels for travel and so I have options.  We can go to a restaurant.  We can go to the grocery store.  And at either place I can go back to eating low carb  or I can extend this moratorium yet again and eat something that will not serve anything but the weird feeling inside that I can’t handle my life right now.

I’m not tapping.  I’m not drinking water.  I’m adding more fake sugar to things.  I’m not following the plan.  I’m only exercising out of negativity, and minimally, and without real intent.  Because I know all of that will start to put me back in the spotlight, in the driver’s seat, in the front of whatever metaphor you want.  And right now, Mildred, that’s a pretty scary proposition.  It means change and I’ve started to have a little taste of clarity and intent and change and adulthood.  And all that entails, good and bad.  And it seems like my subconscious is trying to psych me out.  And the nutrition or lack thereof is just playing into it.

What I’m trying to say is here it is.  I am aware.  I know that I want to see if this date is…I want to be dateable.  I’m afraid to be dateable.  I want to open up my life to the Correspondent.  I’m petrified to open up an eyelid to the Correspondent.  I’m sure that it’s not going to result in anything.  I’m devastated that it’s not going to result in anything.  I want to think positively, but I can’t figure out one reason to be hopeful about it.  I feel like I’m walking into a trap where no matter if it goes poorly or well, my brain is going to self-destruct.

So, I have my choices.  Forward or back?  Why is it not obvious?

I know what I want.  But I let fear push me, confuse me.  Let Mildred tell me I’m not good enough.  Let me fear my own power.

I want to show up tomorrow and tell you I made good.  I kinda maybe have a week to get my head on straight.




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