I Didn’t Do It Right

I’ve been thinking that no matter how I’d rather not change anything due to discomfort, and on the flip side thinking about running away from it all because sometimes everything is just too much, there’s some things I might have to sacrifice- whether it’s the ‘right thing’ to do, or the scariest. Something has to change. K was right. It’s hard paying for both places and only having a little spending money here and there. I’ll never save up for Japan, or school, or the Canada trip. I’m an impulsive, compulsive spender as it is, besides an alcoholic and a smoker. And fat. That’s an increasingly stressful subject. I’m about 280 lbs. and haven’t budged since this past fall. I fasted maybe 2-3 times this year. I started to make big life changes, but then got stuck as if a crack appeared in the ground between my feet and now I’m clinging to both sides, trying to keep it together and it’s nearly impossible as dictated by physics. It seems like I have to choose. Between my jobs, my homes, my friends and boyfriend. I know what I should do. I just don’t know what I want to do.

Then there’s that damned self-isolation I’ve been doing to myself. I feel distanced from my family especially, often from K, and surprisingly from my closest friends in the café, and in the circle, H. My safest places don’t feel like “mine” anymore. I long for the past more than ever. But even I know that you won’t get anywhere with that no matter how hard the wishful thinking, the squeeze in my chest, the tight shutting of my eyes and balling of fists. It’s not coming back and can’t be reenacted. And back to the isolation– I know that’s something I mostly do myself. It’s paranoia, a symptom of mental affliction. It usually just ends up pushing everyone away and therefore pulling the wool over my eyes, thinking I was just proven right again.

Lately when I’m in a car, not usually when I’m driving, I start to wish, that it’d just crash. Crash, kill me, come on. I immediately reprimand myself. I believe in the law of attraction by thought. And I know it’s only a matter of time before it actually happens, or I die some other way. I got to stop thinking of myself as immortal and invincible and really take care of myself. I had left arm and chest pain this past week. I’m trying to eat more greens in my smoothies. I bought a shit ton of spinach and fruit. Eat more soup. Not to mention I’m desperate to stop eating again. I still crave my disorder. I know that’s also bad, but right now it’s the lesser of all evils. Well, since as of Wednesday I had all but my crowned back molar removed (broken teeth) eating is more difficult now. So it’s kind of a blessing. I was in a fitting room Wednesday after my appointment to take my mind off smoking and eating. But it only made me more depressed and angry that I’m so fat I have zits in my rolls. Can’t barely lift my legs to put on socks. The drinking definitely has to stop. And the shopping. I have no right.

I feel like I’m possessed sometimes; there’s instances where I’m paying with my card buying more food, or I’m at the stove cooking, and I have a knee jerk reaction to stop what I’m doing. Like someone else has taken over my body and always does the opposite of what I want. If I’m really honest, it’s been like this since Grandma died. I’ve never been the same and I’ve been digging for the person I was before that. Strong, and sincere, and loving, and optimistic. I’ve felt like a shadow of myself ever since the night I heard she had progressed cancer. I hung up, and fell to the kitchen floor, and sobbed, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t”. All night. Since Dad had passed a few years before, and Jesse and Jordan following after that, and My friend David and Uncle Ratty the year prior, I think I finally shattered. I’ve been trying to rebuild in the past couple years, but I think I put myself together all wrong. And that’s the truest thing I’ve seen myself admit in a long time.

So what are the options? I can’t keep supporting K, which, our relationship is still codependent with little room to grow. He’s still depressed since his mom died. He’s going through the same thing, I think, but I can’t keep focusing on making him happy and continuing our routine of laziness, filth, and never following through an argument because neither of us can stand the discomfort and don’t want to be alone. I really believe we love each other, and could be happily married someday. But right now both of us need to get our shit together instead of enabling our weaknesses. And I can say all this to him til I’m blue in the face. I think he hears, sometimes, but doesn’t want to be the one to pull the plug. Maybe that’s why he tried to make me choose between living in the house, between my friends and himself? He still refuses to meet them. Any excuse- body image, wrong timing, no clean clothes to wear- any of those will do. I think he resents them as much as they do him- and me, for staying with him when I’m clearly unhappy. A lot of them praised me for making the move.

Oh. And then there’s balancing work. I’ve been offered two more shifts at the café- I’m being trained as a server and while it is overwhelming, it promises more money. However, I’m going to have to talk to D about not being available those certain days, and let’s face it, he’s given me nothing but trouble in the way of scheduling. He’s not going to like this, but I’ve got to have those extra shifts. I can’t make do with getting under 30 hours and then grabbing whatever ‘might’ be available at the café or MB. He’s promised to bring me up to 40 hours on more than one occasion including when I was hired, and more or less promised if I worked the shifts he needed me to, he’d make sure I got the schedule I wanted. Well, that was 10 months ago and here I am getting anywhere between 16 and 28 hours, except all 3 holidays where he gave me doubles and overtime. He expects me to be fully committed when they can’t deliver? No. If there’s one thing I’ve grown to do, it’s get pissed off and defend myself when someone is fucking with me. I’ve been chipping at that timid demeanor for a long time now. I’m tired of swallowing bullshit. That’s something I appreciate about age. I love my very thin filter these days.

I’m nearly at my destination (Home) to see T because it was his 2nd birthday yesterday. Hope I get to see him at all. I have to go back tonight because, work. I suppose for the duration I’ll try to think about what I really want to do. If I need to start looking for a new second job, or if I need to separate from Kyle for some time…like I said before, I’m not pretending to know what the right answers are. I might really fuck this up, or maybe it’s just gonna hurt for a while. I don’t know anything, except that things can’t continue like this.