after
this many years of therapy you would think that the whiskey wouldn't make me so silly, but there is no accounting for chemicals, hormones, and the persistant need for unwise bootycalls and ill-timed text messages. And all of the hungry, guilty aftermath.
And I am so sad today. My body is saying no. I am trying to learn to. I am trying to be grown up. Logical. I am trying to go to church but it hurts and is confusing. I am trying not to eat pie. But it is so cold outside. So cold and so dark. I am trying not to cry about my German final tomorrow. All I have to do is pass and I'm one more step closer to that amorphous dissertation. I am trying to accentuate the positive, to shake it off. To drink more smart water. To remember to check my bloodsugar, take each pink pill. To not worry about my student loans, to not be a hypochondriac. Not to tell myself that I am a horrible person b/c I have so much laundry to do and still am a terrible latinist. Trying to learn my lines, trying to think about having a patterned life. To let myself feel sexy for more than 20 minutes in a row. To relax and breathe.To let the heaviness go, to exercise, to stretch to feel the pain and then let it evaporate, to be vulnerable and let it heal away, like feeling coming back to a limb that's been slept on... I am trying to forgive myself the trespasses that I forgave others long ago. This is not an easy honesty.
And I am so sad today. My body is saying no. I am trying to learn to. I am trying to be grown up. Logical. I am trying to go to church but it hurts and is confusing. I am trying not to eat pie. But it is so cold outside. So cold and so dark. I am trying not to cry about my German final tomorrow. All I have to do is pass and I'm one more step closer to that amorphous dissertation. I am trying to accentuate the positive, to shake it off. To drink more smart water. To remember to check my bloodsugar, take each pink pill. To not worry about my student loans, to not be a hypochondriac. Not to tell myself that I am a horrible person b/c I have so much laundry to do and still am a terrible latinist. Trying to learn my lines, trying to think about having a patterned life. To let myself feel sexy for more than 20 minutes in a row. To relax and breathe.To let the heaviness go, to exercise, to stretch to feel the pain and then let it evaporate, to be vulnerable and let it heal away, like feeling coming back to a limb that's been slept on... I am trying to forgive myself the trespasses that I forgave others long ago. This is not an easy honesty.