I did it. I ate an entire box of mac-n-cheese tonight. Is this pretty standard for me? Well, yeah…but I think I used it as more of a comfort. I was full after the first bowl but I ate the rest to possibly numb whatever it is that’s been eating at me this week.
As I sit here and listen to “Black Metal Radio” on Spotify, I feel the urge to break stuff. I’ve been feeling like this for a few days and off and on for at least 32 years. This is my “end of my rope” state. This is when the sun goes behind a big black cloud and I feel like running through the streets with an assault rifle. I could physically harm someone…not that I would…but I could.
I’m not one to keep my feelings on the inside. When I’m happy, everyone feels it. When I’m angry, I blow up…big time. I’ve been majorly stressed out this week and things look pretty hopeless. I wish I could tell you I had hope, but I don’t. Trying to give me a pep talk is pretty hopeless as well. There is absolutely nothing anyone can tell me when I’ve reached my emotional capacity that will bring me back to life. It’s like a virus…just has to run it’s course.
I passed up my workout last night. Just wasn’t feeling it. The combination of my poison ivy discomfort and my emotional state was ready for a beer and Benadryl. Bullshit? Yes. I won’t pretend I’m some bad ass who, in the face of distress, still sacks up and does work. I gave in and at this very point in time don’t really care. Motivation destroyed…
There are currently a few things in my life that cause me a great deal of stress. I know I’m supposed to take the high road and “keep my head up” but the people who tell you that don’t always have a clue. I need peace and quiet. I need space. I have none. I’m constantly surrounded by a mob…at work…at home…and everywhere in between.
Not my best week.