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?