I’m done.  Done with today. Done with the bullshit.  Done with work.  Done with trying to make personal emotional advancement.  Done with doing favors for others.  Done playing games.  And, done with caring.  See you on the flipside (aka Saturday).

Tired of the counting and the green foods.  Tired of looking up recipes and counting some more.  Just want a fucking cheeseburger and milkshake served up with no shame.

Living simply has got to be an art form.  At this moment, I can think of probably.. 50 things I need to do.  And, wow, 10 of them have to get done tonight!  As soon as I am able, I am going to work on simplifying.  This ongoing rush of things to do or think about or take action on… is mind-numbing.  Other than that, today has calmed down.  I’ve become at peace with Monday.

My 1 tablespoon of peanut butter for breakfast habit is getting old.

In retrospect, I’m not sure how I managed to get out of bed every day in my previous life.  The things that plagued me then are plaguing me again, except it feels so much more intense.  And, beyond that, there’s a difference.  There’s no space for it now.  There are no mental cycles to dedicate to helping me sort some things out.  There’s too much other stuff in the way.  And, so, my stuff gets forgotten or pushed aside or hidden or just.. left.  And, I wouldn’t care if it was the small stuff; unfortunately, it’s not.  So I write here, or go work off the stress, or whatever.. and it’s still never enough.  How do I know my tactics aren’t working?  Because, things are dropping off.  I’m forgetting other stuff that I should remember or focus on.  I’m dropping the ball.  A lot.  And, it just makes me want to disappear by myself for a few days.  Normally, I’d want company, but.. oh right.. there’s no room for that either.

Everyone has some skillz (as Napoleon Dynamite would say).  And, when you’ve got so much shit on your mind that you can’t think straight, skillz come in handy.  With help, I decided to put aside my ’shit’ for the weekend; maybe I’d go crazy if I didn’t take a break from myself.  And, look, something awesome happens!  Mostly, it was about reconnecting but also, it’s about Ryan’s skillz in mouth massage.  He makes things happen that no one else has ever been able to (x2!).  It’s not the most important thing about him but damn, it makes for a good Friday night.

“Did you say it? .. I love you… I don’t ever want to live without you… You changed my life…

Did you say it?

Make a plan.. set a goal… work towards it..

But every now and then, look around.. drink it in

Because this is it.  It might all be gone tomorrow.”

He tells me a lot.  He tells me to have things to work towards but to also stop and breathe.  And, it’s repeated here.  This was from the Season 5 finale of Grey’s that I watched last night.  Season 6 starts next Thursday and I can’t wait.  It’s TV and it’s fake but the sentiment is spot on.  And, I did say it.

I feel lost.  I’m not sure who I am anymore.  And, it feels like no one really understands; or doesn’t really see.  I’m conscientious enough about myself to know my own warning signs.  I typically ignore them, especially if no one calls me out on it.  And, life goes on.  I form habits.  And, I just don’t know.  Everything feels up in the air.. where to make the changes and when?  When to stop changing and breathe?  How to figure out what I need versus what I just do?  The only one who even kind of knows me is me.  And, the rest of the stuff I hide?  Well, I don’t feel comfortable sharing that and no one sees it anyway.  Am I down that I can’t confide in someone and that maybe I wish someone just knew me well enough now to see my struggles?  Sometimes, yeah.

What do you do when being good is never good enough?  When I was heavy, I always (stupidly) thought.. ‘If I ever get to 120 lbs, I’ll be happy and content.” Now, I’m below that, and am I happy and content?  Far from it.  There are always places to work on and still, fat to lose.  And, what happened to content?  Maybe it’s something I’ll always chase.

My ex-husband was 6′3″ and weighed 130lbs.  At the time we were together, I also weighed 130lbs except I was 5′3″ and considered pretty normal size.  That he wasn’t healthy and was in denial about it was kind of the elephant in the room that everyone tiptoed around.  I often brought it up but to no avail.  I did everything I could to help; from offering to go along to the doctor, to fixing things I thought he’d like to eat, to trying to help him bulk up thorugh exercise, to mixing protein shakes when he’d humor me with that.  Nothing worked.  And, I stressed out about it every minute of every day.  I thought I was taking care of him but really, I didn’t do jack shit.

Going through that gave me some serious food issues.  Having been heavy in the past, I’ve always had some of my own, but this experience made me so frightened about others and their eating habits.  The problem is, I can’t control it.  I can’t ‘make it better’.  Long past getting divorced, I carried these food issues with me.  Mostly, it’s being scared that someone else I love will wither away to nothing.  I can’t watch that; it’s too painful.  I just don’t know where my place is anymore; I can’t control it but how do I help then?  How do I do something postitive to help ensure I don’t have to go through an experience like that again?

Why is this coming up now?  Well, I’m realizing that my partners’ current situation has brough this to light.  I’d JUST began getting over my food issues; trusting that I can trust him to take care of himself.  And, it felt so good!  I didn’t have to worry anymore.  But now, with things changing, those old feelings of worry and stress are creeping back into me and it feels horrible.  Beyond that, the little things/treats I used to be able to surprise him with now and then, are no longer okay so I feel like I can’t ‘take care’ of him anymore.  Like I can’t do anything special.  I know that’s lame but it’s my feelings.  I know I need to find other things to surprise with.  But, right now, I’m worried for how I feel and I guess being out of control scares me.  Not that I ever had it under MY control; but I had been getting my feelings under control and that was a big step.