What am I feeling this morning, why am I up this early? I guess it is because I am overly anxious. This whole foot/boot ordeal has got me singing the blues. Who knew I was such a whiny baby? Wait, don't answer that! I lay in bed and literally work myself up into a frenzy about whatever stupid shit I can. It is dumb. Half the time it is not even stuff that has any bearing on my life or is it even stuff that is going on. I stress about stuff like this:
1. Shit that happened about 500 hundred years ago that no one but me remembers or does it affect (effect?) their life
2. My family. I can't fix my family. They are broken. I can't make them do the right thing, I can't make them something they are not, which would be whole or healthy. What I can do is stress myself to a heart attack or stroke over them. Cry endlessly about the same shit they do over and over and still act surprised when my feelings are hurt. What I can't do is accept them for what they are. I strongly feel that acceptance is agreement and I don't agree with how they live their lives. So I chase the dream that one day I will wake up and someone will have done the right fucking thing, not the thing that made their life easier and mine more miserable.
3. My weight. I am who I am. And what I am is huge, fat, large, big, fluffy or what have you. I don't make much of an effort to change this so why stress. What do I dream about? Surgery, weight loss, walking without being short of breath, sitting in a chair in public and not worrying about if I can fit in it or if I am going to break it. I dream about people never saying to me again "Why don't you just sit on them". That is the RUDEST, most obnoxious thing you can say to a big girl. I mean really? You think it is ok to say that? I don't look at you and say "hey why don't you go rub some ugly on them, or give them your stupid." It's never appropriate to say. Never. Oh yeah and when you are talking about someone being superhugelyfat don't say "Well I guess they were your size" WTF?! Really, I mean really.
4. My job. I won't go into much detail here because co-workers and the such read my bogs and I don't want to end up on the internet with the label "gets fired and suprised". Lets just say I am not happy and I am working hard on that.
5. Das boot. I worry about my foot, am I going to end up in a cast. Will I be non-weight bearing, how in the world will I deal with that, blah blah blah.
Do I have any actual control over any of this stuff, nah. But I let it eat me alive. I probably could work on my weight some but that is a whole other story.
So here I sit with sleepy eyes and a heavy heart. I am not as depressed as I was a few days ago but I am still down.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
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