This post will probably contain a lot of profanity, including the famous 'f-bombs' I so adamantly abhor . . . but tonight, that's just how I roll. So pass on to another blog if you are easily offended.
There's a whole lot of psychology going on with me right now. Stuff I already understand and other stuff, I am sure I couldn't even begin to touch with a ten foot subconscious probing pole. The kind of stuff I should really be seeing a therapist for. Alas, I barely have enough funds to stay afloat with diapers and car payments and gas and other bills, let alone enough to see a shrink to help me out with my inner workings.
I am quite literally a ball of nerves, nausea, worry, anger, sadness, guilt, panic . . . the list goes on for eternity.
At random times during the day a fleeting thought that most of the time I can't even pinpoint sends my heart rate into over drive and suddenly my chest feels like it is going to cave in from the tremendous amount of weight/pressure I feel. I become short of breath and every breath I do take feels like I am straining air through sand. Panic attack? Anxiety attacks? Are they the same? I don't know. It's all new to me.
So, I have been hiding. I won't lie. I truly did not go private on purpose but maybe it was one of those things you do subconsciously because in reality that is exactly what I want to do . . . hide. From everything and everyone. I feel like the weight of the world is resting square across my shoulders (or maybe better said around my middle?) and I wish I could quite literally crawl into a dark (preferably comfortable) hole where I could hibernate until this whole divorce/custody thing blows over. I don't want him to call or text me anymore (which the courts are allowing) I hate seeing the damn luminescent light that flashes from my phone when I receive a call or text. I have been conditioned to cringe at that light - no matter if it is him or someone else. I want the frickin child support and maintenance to start coming in already so I can stop floundering in my unpaid finances - but my lawyer says that may take up to two months. FUCK ME! SERIOUSLY?!?!
I want it all said and done. NOW! More done than said, because I'm so tired of talking and talking. I want action. Lots of action. There is never enough initiative or action. Gahhh!! They say patience is a virtue and good things come to those who wait but damnit, this isn't good in the traditional sense and I want to stop waiting. I want to end it all . . . NOW!
My girls sense my stress also. They have been extra needy, extra clingy, whiny, crabby, bratty - the whole blasted nine yards. Especially the day after they see their dad. It's like he spoils them just enough (what the hell am I saying? He spoils them like nothing I have ever seen before ... seriously, this last Monday he spent nearly $200 on movies, clothes, sunglasses, shoes and jewelry for a 1 & 2 year old) to turn them rotten and I have to work so hard the rest of the week to straighten them out, only to have him ruin everything the next week. Oh, and did I mention the
This sounds cruel and completely unjust and I recognize that it wouldn't be fair, but father's who only want to 'play' with and spoil their children shouldn't be allowed to. They should be required to change diapers, feed, clothe, bathe, and discipline them too. They should be required to uphold a moral standing according to law and if they participate in ANY illegal activities their visitation with the children should be nill to none. What kind of example is that?
On the diet side of things, every morning I wake up and tell myself 'today will be good', 'today will be better', 'today will be different' and every day starts out that way and every fucking day ends in disaster. I truly think I eat more shit on the days I tell myself I'm going to eat well then I do on the days when I say 'oh screw it, I'll eat what I want.'
(an entire paragraph apparently was deleted here but the gist of it was that I had to cancel my gym membership because my ex was ordered half of some money I had received and wants to use it for . . .)
Not the beds the girls need because they are growing out of their toddler beds. Not to pay unpaid bills or even for his own
No he decides he wants to take the girls and me to Disneyland.
Can you guess if we're going.
UM . . . H.E.L.L. TO THE N.O.!!!!
What the fuck was/is he thinking?
In the middle of a divorce, struggling himself to stay afloat and knowing I am as well he openly states he wants to take us on a more than $3000 trip more than 1000 miles away to Disneyland. And get this. His reasoning?
He promised Sassy he would.
Dude, she's only 2. She's going to be 3. She has no concept of time. She has no concept of Disneyland. It is an illusive place we have described that she can't possibly imagine and will have no idea of what she's missing until she actually goes when she is maybe 5 or 6 and she MIGHT HAVE THE ABILITY TO REMEMBER THE TRIP.
I'm so tired. I feel like I could sleep the days away. Part of me feels like I do. Sometimes I go through the motions. Just the motions, but I think that is perhaps a coping mechanism. To disconnect and do what needs to be done without actually participating. You know?
So, there it is. Not even a sliver of my life in the past couple weeks but enough to know that if I were a third party looking in and reading . . . it would be enough to understand and empathize or at least sympathize or if nothing else, at least extend some pity. LOL
Although the last thing I want is pity.
What I need is focus. I'll let you know when I find that. Goals. I have those, but my actions are not working toward then. Determination. Will. Control. Again the list goes on and on and yet, I sit here and close my eyes and just laugh because if I don't laugh I will break down into a never ending ball of gushing tears.
That's my normal coping mechanism. (besides food) For sadness, anger, guilt, or any significant emotion . . . I cry. I have cried very little during this whole ordeal. I don't think that is necessarily a good thing. I cried a lot when I was eating well. I wasn't numbing my feelings and so I cried and cried because I was raw with emotion. I've numbed myself again. Removed my ability to feel what I need to feel by anesthetizing it with food. So.Much.Food.
I have considered every method provided to me by you (my readers) - self help books, music, audio therapy, documentaries, videos - and sadly . . . at this moment . . . as much as I want to get back to taking care of me and making me healthy and choosing life . . . at this moment . . . right now . . . I.Don't.Want.To
But I don't.
I can't seem to bring myself back to caring.
I've allowed the compulsive eater, the food addict, the FAT CHICK (reference: my blog used to be called The Fat Chick Weigh as the url states) take over again.
It saddens me.
But I feel like a person at the bottom of a well with moss ridden walls and no matter the effort I make to try to climb up I inevitably slide right back to the floor.
Like I said: I need therapy. I need help with my eating disorder.
Until next time . . .