Food, please and thank you

So, it’s 10:00 AM.  I have been at work since about 7:30 AM.  I have checked my email.  Nothing there for me to do.  I put six bottles of water in the conference room refrigerator.  I took two letters to the mailbox and put the flag up.  There have been no phone calls to answer.  I have heard one of the “professionals” in the office being passive aggressive and complaining about the temperature of the office (that person has a thermostat in their office).  I know one female and two males have gone potty.  I have shuffled and reshuffled the same papers around my desk about four times.  I have organized the wheat thins that I am eating into pairs.  I have hated myself 127,568 times for my many faults.  I am currently considering getting more wheat thins to eat, because……………why not.  If I do get more wheat thins, I will be able to hate myself like 54,789 more times before noon.  At noon it’s lunch time.  I have fresh, local black raspberries (my favorite) and vanilla Greek yogurt.  Totally healthy and good for me.  And as I eat that, I will PROMISE myself that this is it.  This is the time I make the change.  The time is now.  Stop procrastinating and making excuses.  How do I know that will happen?  Because it happens every day, at least once a day.  And then the rest of the day I eat my feelings, I eat my mistakes, I eat my unhappiness, I eat my loneliness, I eat my excuses, I eat my fear, I eat my inadequacies.  I eat.  The way I see my current situation, there is no reason not to eat.  I find my comfort eating, I find a long-lost friend eating, I find my emotional support when I eat, I find everything I need when eat.  Food isn’t going to leave me. I can’t disappoint food, I can’t hurt food.  Food gives my fat suit.  I have and will continue to pay dearly for that fat suit.  It will help me shut people out, let people see what they want, let people think what they want.  With my fat suit on, no one is going to get close enough to see the real me, to see the truth no one wants to see.  And, so you are aware, I did not get more wheat thins to eat.  I got goldfish.  I ate them in pairs.  

 

What do you see?

 

What do you see when you look at me?  Can you tell me?  Will you tell me?

 

Who do you see when you look at me?  Can you tell me?  Will you tell me?

 

Tell me the good, the bad and the ugly.  Here I am.  No filter, no make-up.  Just me, raw and vulnerable.  Opening to you.  What will you do with this? 

 

I wonder if you see what I see. Do you only see what I want you to see?  Do you see me? ME!

 

There are so many words I want to hear, so many truths I want to hear.  The truth can be messy, hurtful, powerful.  It can open doors and it can close doors.

Who do you see when you look at me?  Can you tell me?  Will you tell me?

 

What do you see when you look at me?  Can you tell me?  Will you tell me?

 

What do you see?

Okay

I’m confused.  I’m torn.  I’m trying.  I’m failing.

My girl moved out (again), yesterday.  She was home for 6 days.  She caused disruption, angst, turmoil, and a flood of emotions I can’t begin to describe.  I say she caused it.  That makes me feel guilty.  Did she cause it or did her disorder cause it?  Or is it both? How do I separate that?  How do I separate her from her disorder?  Can I separate it?  As much as I tell her that she can’t let her disorder define her; I feel like that is what I am doing.  

When I think of my girl, the first thing I think of, and feel is chaos.  I no longer think of my little pink princess.  I hate that.  

How do I know when I have done enough for her?  I don’t think I have.  Should I be making appointments for her to psychiatrists and therapists? Should I be picking her up, taking her to appointments, watching her walk inside, waiting in the parking lot until she is finished and then take her back to him?  Should I take her to another state?  Will distance help?  Should I stop working to care for her?  How far do I go?  How much is enough?

I feel myself breaking a bit more each day.  I get annoyed at things I wouldn’t have a year ago.  I don’t like it.  I drink too much, and I eat too much.  Why am I so weak?  Why can’t I get a grip and control both?  I need to feel in control of something.  With everything else that is happening around me, why do I sabotage myself by doing things that I know are not healthy for me?  Yes, the drinking makes me forget for a bit; makes me fake happy, makes it easier to pretend I’m okay.  The food is my comfort, as fucked up as that is.  

I’m not okay.  

I AM NOT OKAY, but my girl is worse.

My walls

Each day my walls grow stronger, taller, impenetrable; my walls are my power

Reinforced by the hurt, the sadness, the loneliness, the fear

My walls keep me safe; they keep my heart safe

Safe from feeling too much, safe from giving too much, safe from caring too much

My walls make me a cold-hearted bitch

Walls help me pretend, help me keep going, help me disappear

Behind my walls I can show you want I want you to see; not what is really me

I dare you to get inside my walls

Tired

I am tired

I am tired of fighting for happiness

I am tired of fighting for love

I am tired of feeling useless

I am tired of feeling worthless

I am tired of giving my all to others

I am tired of playing pretend

I am tired; mind, body and soul

I am tired of feeling out of control

I am tired of my spinning world

I am tired of living the lies every day

I am just tired

Losing it, lost it, gone

We all have days where we try to convince ourselves that we are okay. We got it all under control, right? I think it’s part of self-preservation. I know if I didn’t pretend everything is A-OK, I would have been committed by now.

My question is, when is it time to stop pretending? When is it acceptable to stop pretending? My game face is tired. My mind is tired. My body is tired. I am contemplating taking a weekend getaway, just for me. Just to see what it is like to be alone and not responsible for anyone but me. I can’t remember a time when I did anything like that. Is that sad? I wouldn’t even know where to go or what to do. Would I just sleep, read, watch TV? I have no clue. Could I actually be alone for an entire 48 hours? Maybe I’m afraid of what I would discover about myself. What if I like the alone time? What if I realize what is supposed to make me happy doesn’t? Then what? I create a brand new hell for myself to live with day in and day out.

The girl child plays heavily into my daily struggles. At the end of last week I felt like I had finally come to terms with what I needed to do. I wrote my girl a list of expectations. Things that needed to change if she was going to continue living in my house and what I would and would not do for her if she chose to move out. I am giving her a two week period to make changes. I don’t know when I will give it to her. I assume there will be yelling and screaming and tears. And of course this weekend my girl was actually…..sweet, nice, helpful. She is also at the beginning stages of a manic episode. I guess there really isn’t a right time, I’m hoping I will know when it’s time. And I hope I will be able to live with the repercussions.

Maybe I’m just going through a mid-life crisis. Maybe I’m a wreck because I’m going through menopause, which I have no actual symptoms of. Maybe I’m at a point where I just keep on pretending because it’s too late for a change. It’s too late to figure out what I want and what I don’t want. It’s too late to stop pretending. Time to put the game face back on. Time to keep pretending.