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Tuesday, April 15, 2003

It was touch and go there for a while today. This was one of those gray, cool days when giving in to comfort food suddenly seemed to be the logical solution to everything that's wrong in the world. And I was right there in the grocery store this morning, with the health food aisle blocked off so that I had to pass by the cookies to get from the garden fresh produce to the low fat yogurt.

And Oreos were on sale.

But I wasn't stupid, or weak. I don't know where I got the wits and strength all of a sudden, but I'm still eating healthy, even though the clouds were heavy and ominous all day long. And the clouds inside my head were just as menacing, goading me toward the edge. It wouldn't have taken much, and (obviously) it's been on my mind all day.

Somehow, I'm still standing. When I've come this close in the past, I haven't always been able to stop the slide. It's not will power; I'm convinced of that. It's more that I just can't think of any other way not to feel unhappy. As much as I like to project a ray of sunshine wherever I roam or ramble, I have these days when I'm just completely worn down.

Oh, you wouldn't know it, even if you dropped by. The landlord knocked on my door this afternoon, and for all he knows I'm a bubbly bowl of good cheer. Nobody who knows me that casually ever bothers to ask what's wrong, because it just doesn't show. Maybe it's living alone that makes it possible for me to give in to the darkness at all. If I were around people more, I could force myself to radiate warmth.

Sitting here alone, it's almost as if I'm waiting for something to set me off. Not even waiting. Looking, actively, for an excuse to blow. I want to have an emotional explosion and do some damage. And I can only get away with it because there are no witnesses. I can yell at the phone as loudly and profanely as my imagination (and my voice) will allow. Nobody cares.




clouds

Threatening clouds.



I'm rambling here. All I really need, as usual, is sleep. I refuse to feel guilty for my honest feelings, though. I'm not comparing my pain with anyone else's. If I could save the world by pretending to be happy, I'd gladly (if miserably) comply. At least I didn't surrender to food therapy this time.




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Stuff

Usually, by the time I get to the end of one of these seriously dismal entries that just pop up out of nowhere every so often, I've talked myself out of feeling so miserable. I can report at this time that I strongly believe tomorrow will be a better day.

Recent recommendations can always be found on the links page.


One year ago: Wrong Again
"Now, I don't wish ill health on anyone, least of all anyone who pays me to watch telenovelas all day, but the phone was really quiet today."


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