Full on Freak Out

Do you every have one of those mornings when you wake up and think, "I hate pretty much everything about my life at this second?" Okay, that's probably an overstatement, but you get the idea.

I am super tired of how I look physically. I am attempting to eat right, only to allow myself to be sabotaged by "Date Night" or my brother's left over half pack of cookies or White Castle (because you can never eat only one), or the delicious Chinese buffet up the street.

I believe-and have always felt-that my eating reflects my current emotional state; which at this moment is out of control. My house is in a CONSTANT state of chaos, the laundry is never done.  No one-myself included a lot of the time-picks up after themselves. There are cheap vodka bottles and discarded clothing in the middle of my living room. There is the ever present bowl of bacon grease at the side of my stove, a nod to my culture-and God forbid you get rid of that! Someone may need it for something. (For the record, I HATE bacon, the vat of grease is probably why.)

This place that I live in, and I have been here a year, I have been unable to move my things out of the garage and into the house as there is simply no place to put things save for my furniture. When I want to discard something, it is suddenly some one's "favorite" whatever. Even if it is an empty box.

I feel so out of control in my life I don't feel like I can even control the slide right now. I feel alone, with not a soul on my side, and that's pretty sad when I live with two people who claim they love me to the moon and back.  Even now, after having half a melt down over the Chinese buffet offer, I sit alone and tearful in a room surrounded by dirty socks, a half full pickle jar, some one's nasty dirty pants, and shoes....always fucking shoes. While others mindlessly play video games and sit on the deck leisurely smoking.

This may not be the right situation for me. I am not sure what adjustments need to be made for me to find contentment. I KNOW I am tired of bitching about wanting to eat right and exercise more (even if my leg is broken).  My gut says that I MUST trust myself. And that I intrinsically know what is right for me. Let me tell you, dear readers, this is NOT it.

My therapist has told me on more than one occasion, "The healthier you continue to get, the worse "sick" feels". I don't believe she could be more right. I want to tear through this house like and X-Men character to show my displeasure, although that may be a hair dramatic, don't ya think?

You and Tequila

I am crazy about my Bulldogge.  Everyone knows that.  He and I fit together like weird little puzzle pieces.  He loves me in a way I have never been loved before...without question.  And I love him like crazy. Its a scary proposition for a girl like me.

There are things in my life that drive me to want to run at a cellular level.  Whether its that I don't feel worthy or worry that the people around me will find out whatever it is that makes me so unlovable.

And then came the Wyatt Earp to my Doc Holliday.  It would've have been SO simple to keep running into the sunset with my running buddy.  And its not that its a romantic connection so much, but there's a fondness and tenderness there that is past romantic love.

It feels like an addict's mentality when it comes to running..."If one is good, six HAS to be better".  Wyatt Earp understands that running lust.  When I talk with him, or cuddle up in his stolen t shirt, or there's a certain soft smell in the air, I get that feeling deep in my gut that makes me long to run.

Sometimes I am jealous of him sipping margaritas in the desert sun.  His hat pulled down and cocked ever so slightly sideways to shade his eyes. Some outrageous story on his lips to be told in that Southern-on-crack drawl. I wish to be there with him.

AAANNNNNDDD....then there's the realization that I am becoming a different woman altogether.  All my work is starting to come together and make me understand that while it is hard, maybe I deserve a shot at a "regular" life. I like fishing and camping and spending time with my kids and my man.

Wyatt Earp, you may be one of the best friends I have ever had.  If you had come along just 3 months sooner, life would be entirely different right now.  I have rarely had more fun.  Which is why "You and Tequila" fits so well how I feel for you. And that we sang it half drunk in a bar at the beach.