It takes me about 60 seconds to derail.
And sometimes not even that long.
I’ve taken a real notice lately to my orally-fixated response to a crisis. Or even a pseudo-crisis.
It is my immediate knee-jerk reaction, STILL, to eat something, drink something, or smoke something whenever something goes wrong. I don’t act upon it the way I once did, but the thoughts and feelings about medicating my hurt are still there. I’m starting to think they always will be.
Why does it take me so long to admit that I’ve lost motivation?
Pride.
That’s all it is. Freaking pride.
This year I have experienced things I’ve never experienced before, and it’s grown me up in ways I never even knew possible. I know that everyone experiences their own crap, but I’ve really gone through it emotionally this year. It took the loss of my grandmother to teach me how inately selfish I am. By nature. It took the unrequited romantic interest of a great man to teach me that while sex can be a great thing, it’s not the only thing. But unrequited love still hurts. Also, the past 2 months I have gone out with 9 men. I have also been waiting nervously to find out if my insurance company is going to pay for Zion to go to Little Star Center, a school for children with Autism.
These are the reasons I am all over the place emotionally. And have put on 15 pounds in a month.
These are also my excuses for said weight gain.
We all have issues. The trick is learning to deal with them without pouring a substance all over it.
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