Day 57


Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!!  The voice in my head is brutalizing me today.  It started it a little last night and yesterday with the sitting down-itis at work, but it is in full-force today.

My stomach is not defined enough (did ab work two days ago, which always causes false perceptions of FAT, but the blackness doesn’t believe that).  My ass feels like it has been sat down on too long (did squats two days ago, but the blackness doesn’t believe that).  It is the end of the first week back and I’m fucking tired (but the blackness doesn’t believe that).

The fire is in the back of my throat, the tightness in the back of my neck, the light-headedness.  I want to cry; I want to scream, but I mostly want to cry.

I need to eat right now, since I haven’t had breakfast in lieu of sleeping in.  I can’t do that anymore.  Scheduled food next week, alarms for it all.  Starting Monday, 8/2/6/2/6/6+wiggle = all alarmed, all scheduled.  Not because I should, but because it’s what’s best for us.  It would make me less intolerant in the afternoons, less bloated at night, less spinny during the day.  All in all, it would let me find happiness in other things (i.e. I couldn’t concentrate on anything between sex last night and eating at 8PM, which is not a feeling that I like!).

And then I ate and it took a little bit away, but I don’t know if the damage has been done or this is about fatigue and not food.  It feels like one of those days when I need to take a drink at lunch to take the edge off.  And then these came in at 9:30AM.  They didn’t make me feel much better, but sooner or later I will internalize these quotes, get used to them and feel them more (it’s why I want them to end this entry, as opposed to having this end it – to make sure that the blackness won’t have the last word here):

“A little love on a dark day and always remember – you are the best thing I will ever do” – emailed from Mom

“I don’t feel very much like Pooh today,” said Pooh.

“There there,” said Piglet. “I’ll bring you tea and honey until you do.”

― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh (emailed from my wife)


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