Anticipation in Place of Procrastination-Purge

Since I started this blog I have had the intention of moving posts from a blog I used to write on, to this one. In addition my intent was also to type out whatever I felt comfortable sharing here from a drawer full of journals.

I began to transfer from the other blog but then stopped adding new posts from new thoughts. And the journals…well I think there’s a fear of “digging around in the dirt,” even though I know and remember much of what is there.

I think it’s time though. I think my desire to do this is hanging over my head so much that it is preventing me from moving forward. The procrastination is also coming from the feeling of wanting to do things perfectly, organize it all correctly, blah, blah, blah.

But I’m not sure that’s even possible with this kind of shit. Pieces of the past come up in a non-linear fashion so my posts aren’t going to be in order from the day I was born to today. It just isn’t going to work that way.

What I want, pertaining to the paper journals, is to purge this stuff from the paper its on and then burn it.

Edit Sunday 10/8/17: Weird that I come back around to this as I edit all the posts I marked private a while back.
I have been working on organizing my bedroom so I can focus on doing some ebay selling. I have been doing some of that but the past week, my focus has been on organizing.

This morning, I just went through my journal drawers and organized them so it is at least neater in there. I was going to go through and throw some things out and organize different things into piles of categories. But that didn’t happen. It’s not the first time I’ve attempted this either.

It’s too overwhelming and the way I need to do it is to blog the things and then throw them away or put them in bags or boxes that are destined for a bonfire somewhere.

So many goals but that’s where this is.

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Damaged and Depressed

I feel like I’m still recovering from Thanksgiving today. (Saturday.)

I felt worse yesterday. (Friday.)

And I didn’t touch a single drop of alcohol on Thanksgiving. (Thursday.)

It goes much deeper than that.

Going from one toxic situation (affair) and the ugly break up of it with just a year in between, to another toxic, gang-bullying and abusive situation, has made me severely traumatized that I have not been able to crawl my way out.

And so it’s gotten to the point that I feel like this every. single. day.  I feel like I’ve already died. Essentially I have. Essentially I am dead…or might as well be.

In addition and in the midst of depression and the lack of recovering from so much trauma, we have moved recently, from a house we lived in for 13 years to a two bedroom apartment.

This, as you can imagine was a lot of work. Living with a man who has a difficult time parting with things made it no less stressful. His sister was our landlord and has still not sold the house, so the two car garage still has shit in it that Mr. B has to figure out what to do with.

Much of it has been taken by other family members and he has taken what we have room for here. Our storage area has reduced significantly though as you might imagine.

To add to the stress, about a month after moving in, we discovered an infestation of fleas in the new place. I am pretty sure they were here before we were from the information I’ve read about those evil fucks, but there’s no way to prove it.

Edit Monday 10/9/17: I think now that I may have been wrong in thinking the fleas were here already. Our cat was an indoor/outdoor cat who was, I found, already pretty itchy when we moved. Fleas are apparently not as noticeable when living in a house (although I do remember dealing with them a couple times at the house) as they are in an apartment. The fact that the effected animal was able to go outside also gave the house some respite and so the infestation didn’t have as much of a chance to grow like it did here. Kitty wasn’t going outside (and still isn’t) so there was no where else for the family of fleas to go and grow.

Fighting fleas is a good example of chaos control, which has felt like the story of my life. We sprayed, powdered, vacuumed and dusted. I also packed up some of our shit and boxed it back up to make the dusting easier. So that is still all boxed up and down in the basement and garage as well, taking away from our storage area.

I no longer have a desk in our new place. It was broken in the move but in addition there is no place to put it here. So I spend my time sitting on my bed or in it, depending on the temperature of the room. So I’m even isolating from my roommate.

Edit 10/9/17: I have moved the small drop down wood desk that we had in the living room into my bedroom. The drop down part gives sufficient room for a laptop. It would not hold a lot of weight but it does the job I need it to do and also gets me out of sitting in my bed all day using the computer. I listed this desk on Craigslist a couple times too. So glad it didn’t sell.

Even if I wanted to sit in either the living room or dining room, I wouldn’t be comfortable doing so now because of all the powder and spray we used on the only half way comfortable piece of furniture out there…the sofa.

10/9/17: A year later, the couch is sittable as far as the powder being faded and vacuumed. But it’s not comfortable and although B uses it, in my mind, it’s simply something that takes up space. I have never had a good and comfy couch of my own. So pathetic.

The self-isolating has also become worse now because the dog I had walked for someone, passed away a couple weeks ago, so I don’t even go out once a week for that anymore.

Under all this stress for the last seven, almost eight years, I have not taken care of myself at all, using junk food, alcohol, pot and cigarettes to numb the pain. All of that also certainly has added to the physical damage.

I have aged significantly in a short amount of time. As someone who has looked younger than her chronological age, this has also taken a toll on my self-confidence as well. I know 51 ain’t no spring chicken and in all honesty I do have a tough time accepting the aging process, but I look and feel much older than those 51 years.

Anyway, although the junk food doesn’t give me the same intensity of a hangover as alcohol does, I still feel something similar to one nonetheless.

Carbs, I am finding put me in a state of lethargy and depression. I couldn’t believe how knocked out I felt on Thursday night when I got home. And although I’m sure it had something to do with being surrounded by other humans…which I am no longer acclimated to…it was mostly all the carbs I ate that night, I’m sure of it, given my self-observation of late.

I find that when I eat close to a keto plan, I do much better. I start to lose weight, depression begins to lift and I have some energy.

But then I break down and eat something sweet and I’m not talking about just some fruit. Nope, I’m all about the cookies, brownies, cake, you know, shit like that.

This is not a problem perhaps for someone who can control themselves, be somewhat indifferent and not eat a whole fucking box of cookies in one sitting. But that’s not me.

I know what the problem is:

I don’t feel good enough. I don’t feel worthy of being healthy. And until I do, this self-sabotage won’t stop.

10/9/17: Sad, not much has changed in almost a year. I am truly stuck and today I’m feeling depressed and rather bored. It took a lot for me to just get to this task of editing here. I have been drinking coffee, which is not a good thing for me. I did follow a keto way of eating for a few weeks and the heart palpitations where un fucking real. And I was not drinking coffee during that time. 

I went back to eating carbs but kept it on the healthier side for a while, like eating salads and quinoa with veggies along with some beef or chicken. But I gradually went to eating junk again and got caught up in that cycle of wanting to be excited by my food. Used food as something to look forward to as I do not have anything I look forward to in life. And I got caught up in that cycle because once I start eating junk, that’s when I get lethargic and have no energy to prep good healthy food. Today I bought some stuff on the healthy side. Let’s see if I eat it. 

Toxic Shame and Addiction: Surrender or Self-Knowledge

I’ve been reading the book Healing the Shame that Binds You by John Bradshaw and I’ve gotten to chapter 4, which is called, “The Hiding Places of Toxic Shame.”

If you’ve been abused as a child then you can probably imagine how long this chapter is even if you haven’t read it.

Coming toward the end of the chapter though, he covers addiction. He defines addiction in the part about food addictions. My guess about defining it there, even after writing about alcoholism, is to drive home the fact that food and eating (or not eating) can be an addiction as much as any drug can be.

John writes: “The word (addiction) means to give oneself up (from Latin addicere). To be addicted is to surrender oneself to something.

“To be addicted is to surrender oneself to something.”

After reading this definition, which resonates completely for me, and makes it quite clear as to what I’ve been doing (within) when stuffing my face with chips and salsa or chocolate candy bars. The same thing is happening when I throw down beer after beer even after I’m clearly shit-faced.

After reading the definition of addiction, I then thought about the most common go-to for helping people with addictions…12 step programs.

The first step in the one for AA is:
“We admitted we were powerless over alcohol–that our lives had become unmanageable. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”

You can replace “alcohol” with anything you’re addicted to and so the first part of this first step I can accept and I agree with it. Becoming aware of and acknowledging the problem is the first step on any journey to changing the pattern and programming.

However, I do have an issue with the second part. “Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”

First of all, believing is one part that can be changed. If you believe otherwise then that can be so as well.
Second of all, let’s quote Einstein: “We cannot solve problems with the same mind-set that created them.”

Remember that we give our problem away when we become addicted. The addiction takes over and we lose ourselves to the addiction. We are lost to ourselves. We numb to run from the pain and whatever caused us that pain.

So we’ve already surrendered to some sort of substance and that has proven futile to fix anything. It’s also been detrimental to our lives. So the suggestion to surrender yet again, to something else, seems silly, redundant and well, futile.

Instead, how about we gain control over ourselves, find our true and authentic selves, understand ourselves and what it was that caused us so much pain that we felt driven to numb not only the pain, but all other emotions that are necessary for the human psyche.

I know my life has been controlled long enough by something outside of myself.  Handing over my shit to someone or something else seems like trying to solve the problem with the same mind-set that caused it in the first place.