A post on MFP:

I honestly don’t know how I found myself back here tonight.  I think it has to do with the power of Sundays over me to try and reset, improve, recalibrate and start anew.

I have been away for at least three months, probably, away mentally for five or six.

This has been, I believe, the hardest year of my life thus far.  My last post here on MFP referenced my grandfather’s passing which still leaves a wake of pain and this was directly followed with the loss of a family pet, very recently the loss of another, and my mother’s cancer diagnosis after 21 years of being in remission.  This has been on top of a strangling and depressing job and financial situation which has ended up with me taking on a second job, working six days a week, and having my anxiety flare up just as I had begun to get an arm around it.  I’ve had somebody fly into my life, a hummingbird in terms of weight and speed, only to fly right out of it doubly fast.  Most recently, I’ve been grinding my teeth to the point of severe pain.

I’ve been lonely, distracted, angry, put-upon and for the most part floating about five feet above my body.

I think, actually, I ought to have gained a hundred pounds.  I ought to be unable to sit in this chair.  I ought to have tumbled headlong into food and at the very least, I can say that I haven’t broken new records in terms of catastrophic consumption.  Perhaps this can only be attributed to the fact that I’ve been too broke to assuage my problems with all the french fries that the local fast food establishments can find deep fat to fry.

This is not to say that I haven’t gained weight, that I haven’t been mindless and destructive in my eating habits, that I haven’t scared myself with my outright refusals to take care of myself in a way that counts…in a way that is more important than buying a girly lotion or making sure I put a little rum in my Diet Coke to settle me down.

But I have thought about how good a walk might feel (once I got past the sense that I might have some sort of panic attack), I have thought about how good a plate of green apples and cold water and something nutrient rich and steadying like spinach and hardboiled eggs might be.  I have thought from time to time about if I could have some energy again, I might find myself in a different position.

I don’t want to say that tomorrow I will track anything because I don’t know what I’m having for breakfast.  Starbucks is the first thought I’m having and I don’t want to say what isn’t the right answer, but I honestly don’t know the way from here to the shining city of not needing food for emotional succor.

What I know is that getting there…getting anywhere…it will be a fight.  I have a lot of briars to machete, a lot of walls where the mortar has set brick upon brick between me and the simple idea of giving a damn again.

But my mom is doing okay – great, at least in terms of what is visible and knowable to us here on the outside.  Even going back to work tomorrow for a few hours.  I have a whole two day streak of not drinking soda.  I have people in my corner.  I have all these ideas about maybe, and if we, and shall we, and oh, lets that are piquing my interest.

I just thought…I could do something for this body that scares me so much.  I could do something more than nothing.


The Gallant Effort

crystal-1474999-1279x906I don’t know why, but I feel compelled to write a bit of a state of the union address.  These are not listed in order of importance.

Love:  Well, as I have alluded to, there’s just another nobody that I’ve been chatting with and amusing myself with.  It is not anything more than that.  Life requires far greater dimensions than just amusement, however, amusing that amusement appears.  I do realize that I have zero sway or control and nothing constitutes anything.  Just want that stated for the record.  It’s just a bit of silliness and fun which I need in light of everything else.

Work: The two jobs are balanced in their own way.  I feel pulled down by one sometimes and then the other.  They are precisely as they’re labeled.  The retail job sometimes feels menial and that perhaps I’m being condescended to for simple things.  Stress for me sort of has the same osmotic principles as water temperature, eventually it all evens out to about the same level.  I’m now worrying about entering in my purchases correctly so I don’t screw up inventory.  There’s no place to go where it’s easy, so, I suppose there’s some relief in that.

Weight:  A thousand reminders flicker at me.  I am starting to settle in now.  Change is the only thing that happens so tomorrow, a bike ride and some water.  I can do it.

Writing: I knew I had to be more present here.  It’s just an outline.  Press on, please.  Press on and finish it.  These distractions cannot be abated by giving into them.

Gratitude:  I am grateful for my sister.  I am grateful for a mother and aunt who call and invite me over for tacos and to tell me the things I need to know.  They are consistent buoys.  My father and other sister, too.  Family, yo.  I am grateful for today’s help, for funny CPR instructors, for glowering skies that never turn into tornadoes, for 95 words already written.

The shit this girl is into lately: Peaky Blinders, Babymetal, Fallen London, Mumford (how odd that my sister is the one insisting we get tickets – I always think that after standing out in the blazing sun for years and years that she’ll tire of them, but it’s impossible after you see their show.  They’re just lovely and still are), exceedingly well-written RP that forces me to try and write RP exceedingly well, Masterchef because it’s one of the few reality tv shows that I can stand.

Quiet in the Crypts


1521 words of a short story outline. Working on being more concise.

Work: not sure on how working 4 hours a day 5 days a week is going to mess with my head. Doing my best not to let it. I can’t focus. Other things continue to be bad news for Bonzo.  Have a couple copywriting resources from my cousin to look over…I don’t know if that’s even 1% a direction I should or would go towards, but I want to learn.

Writing:  Good! Exciting! Happening! Endings are rough! I am trusting in my ability to edit back to life whatever is historically inaccurate or rhetorically inert at the moment.

Life: parents in Florida, texting pictures of themselves next to their fancy rental Mustang convertible.

Diet: Just barely under, and really gave a fairly weak-ass effort on the exercise bit today.  Probably comes from not sleeping as I should last night.  Going to try and zonk out early this evening.

Love: I am totally in love with whatever version of you is the socially constructed, virtually available, completely superficial, blatantly obfuscated version that’s kept under glass so it cannot be aged by my breath, smudged by my oil, molded under my crushing grip.