Down by the River: Numbing Life (Dear Cookie Monster)

Down by the River: Numbing Life

Dear Ana & Everyone else,

After 4 sandwiches, 4 bags of chips, 2 gigantic bags of M&M’s, and some other stuff, it is now 3:30AM and I cannot breathe.

What fun, here we go again.

I can’t sleep, so let’s have at it.

When I get off work, I just want to crawl into a hole until the day leaves me alone. That means numbing out with comedy videos and food, although I hadn’t done the last bit for a few days.

This is sort of how the bingeing originally started when I was eleven. 

I was at home alone and didn’t want to do anything I was supposed to (homework). I just wanted to be bad and eat cookies. I was all alone and bored.

That’s what’s going on now. 

I get off work, I don’t want to do anything constructive – I want to do the opposite.

Wanting to “relax” might seem like a normal thing to do after a long day, especially coming home from a job I don’t want and am terrible at, but this is my life now.

Every moment of the day is my life. What I repeatedly do is what I become. 

Always in and out of treatment centers, I saw my classmates graduate, get jobs, settle down with long-term relationships, etc. Pretty soon, their idea of a good time was staying in to watch TV, learning to bake something new, and buying themself a fancy piece of jewelry or a handbag after they saved up enough pay checks.

I violently swore to myself I would never become like that.

I was going to go to graduate school, have a job I was passionate about, travel the world, do outdoorsy things, spend my money on experiences or invest it (I seriously do not understand jewelry or handbags), read tons of books, always be learning, etc, etc.

Now, I just want to come home and numb myself to everything that happened and that I have to get up and do it all tomorrow.

The thing is – this can very quickly become my life. People do that: they just go to work, come home, and then live their lives through people they watch on TV (or phones if they have no wifi).

They make plans, but never do any of them. And then they stop making plans.

I do not want to be like that.

So, what can I do?

I need to figure out something that gives me a breather. I hate my job, I hate public transportation, and I hate where I live except that I get to close the door. Unless the woman who owns the place decides to knock for some reason or another and I have to hide all my food.

I have a small idea. 

I normally take the subway home, but I could ride a bike part of the way. My commute is along a river, which has a bike rental thing. That would give me time to breathe, a chance to stretch my legs, a break from the city, and being in motion would mean that people have less time to stare at me and I at them. I could just be super busy riding a bike and not look at them at all.

I currently don’t have any pants that fit, but I could put on a pair of shorts. Maybe. Or maybe I should just walk? That would take hours.

This is fizzling without even taking off.

Well, I’ll think of something.

All I know is that I want to do stuff with my life besides hate it and try to escape it.

I don’t like who I am or what I do now, but I will figure it out

The pieces will fall into place eventually. 

I am just going to breathe. This is OK.

I’m still really angry that I am so limited on this platform. It takes me like 3x as long to do everything because of autocorrect and not being able to format anything unless I go into HTML. 

Boohoo, poor little me.

The end.



Whoever
. I can’t separate myself, I am just a big blob.

(Written yesterday morning, published now because my phone died)

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s