Family-Sized Mac and Cheese

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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. 

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