There is a lot of stuff on my mind today and I'm feeling a little run down.
I want to talk about my emotions and while I am open and expressive most days, today I'm having a really hard time trying to pin down into words to explain what I am feeling. Finding the balance today, the sweet spot, is as elusive as that delicious calorie free cupcake I've been seeking. I feel a little raw, on the verge of spilling over the top of the dike with a torrent of "frustration" and "despondency". I need to get it off of my chest, rip it off like taking off a uniform after a double shift. But then I"ll be naked and you'll see through me.
Laying it all out on the table, I do. I'm honest about everything I'm going through. There is a difference between laying "it" on the table and laying yourself on the table. Tell me if you think that you could bear that. Today I can only put pieces on the table.
I look at this mess in my house and I feel defeated.
I hear unaswered pleas echoing in my head and I feel defeated.
I see the deaf ears on which they fall and I feel defeated.
I miss my Mama.
I see these chipped up ass toe nails and I feel de"feet"ed.
On a day like today, it doesn't take much.
The specifics, the who/what/when/where/why/how, of my feelings really do not matter: Here is the truth- You are not promised a golden life just because you lose weight. People die, disappoint you, leave you, hurt you, embarrass you, dislike you, and you even do the same to yourself. Weight loss surgery isn't an inoculation against anything. The only thing it can offer you is the chance to have a better quality of life.
And even though I feel defeated today, I know that I am not.
I'm going to get up, get moving, get on with my day and enjoy the new quality of life that I have.
These fucking dishes will have to wait until I get back.