I am at a point where I have a lot of thoughts about my goals and my struggle to progress in meeting these goals. I love to write and if I write these thoughts out as unfiltered as I can, it helps me get the words out of my head and down onto paper. I can almost feel the stream of words flowing out of my head as I type. They’re marching out, fluidly and single file, letter by letter. They are often heavy, and like a thick magnet to a metal surface, the words click down onto the screen now and out of my mind. I use a lot of guided imagery to pretend my stress away. Sounds bizarre but at least it’s not a stress reliever that comes with an impending sense of doom caused by guilt. I have quite a few of those though. Most recently I was dying inside after downing a pint of Phish Food with a bag of gummy worms mixed in on Sunday night after my boyfriend went to bed and I couldn’t sleep. We had also already had pizza right before that and I was bloated af. I haven’t felt that level of guilt in a long time. Why do I do this? The ice cream came from a gas station and must have melted and refroze at some point because it was pretty hard and ice crystals were on top even underneath the white plastic protective peel. Did that stop me? No way, I had a bunch of youtube videos to catch up on and was mindlessly swallowing as much sugar as I could to get my brain distracted from how tired I really was. I rolled myself into bed next to my sleeping saint of a boyfriend and had nightmares all night of being 600 lbs and unable to get myself out of bed, watching my boyfriend and our cat drive away forever into a picturesque sunset. I’m about 100 pounds more than I was when he met me and he still treats me the same way, actually he treats me even better as time goes on, therefore I call him a fucking saint as this is not what he signed up for. It could have been the paranoia induced from the insane sugar load, as before I even got up to throw the evidence in the trash my brain was throbbing as if I had a migraine but there wasn’t any pain. The sugar was crawling throughout my body and bringing me a day closer to type two diabetes. I’m so lucky my pancreas is still holding on. I’ve been abusing it for years.
So earlier today I decided to put some of my thoughts out onto my personal facebook page. I often post thousand word long posts and then feel too vulnerable and have to click “hide from timeline” as soon as I feel like I’m going to collapse from dreading possible judgement. Clicking post feels so good though. I have collected my thoughts into a neat little organized post, decked out with correlating emojis, and it is so satisfying to feel the relief that I got out what I wouldn’t be able to put into words. I am the worst mumbler I’ve ever met. I hear “what?” about 10 times a day. I die if I order a sandwich and have to respond with “white” or “wheat” because they usually have me spell it out after saying “wheat” like 3 different times and not understanding what I rattled out. I just get so nervous being uncomfortable in this body I’ve made for myself that I can’t even talk right.
I noticed a few likes and comments come in on my drawn out post and it dawned on me that anyone I’m “friends” with could read it but maybe it wasn’t something that I wanted acquaintances to read about or know about. Then someone unfriended me. I don’t know who and I don’t even know how I recognized the number had changed since I don’t usually pay attention that kind of stuff, but I remembered that the last digit was a 7 earlier today since 7s seem to show up everywhere lately, but now that 7 was a 6. Personally I use the “unfollow” button pretty frequently. It’s an easy solution to being annoyed as you can contact the person if you wanted to but you don’t have to see all their nonstop shit posting. But to all out delete someone is to be so sick of who they are you just can’t deal anymore. My heartfelt post about how I was feeling was so off putting to someone that they clicked on my name and permanently tapped unfriend. So I thought about it for a few minutes and realized well I don’t really want to wonder about what anyone thinks. I don’t use Facebook for anything productive anyway. My battery settings the other day in my phone listed the Facebook app as having 2 hours of active screen time in the last 24 hours, and that sick statistic should have been enough alone to call it quits for a while. I think I’m obsessed with likes. But my writing is for me. It’s for you too if you wanted it to be. So to be able to feel uncensored, I’ll just write here because it’s not shoved in anyone’s face as part of their daily news feed. I don’t want my thoughts to be summed up in a thumbs up, crying emoji, laughing emoji, heart emoji, or mad emoji. I’m here because I want to write freely and you’re here because you wanted to be. As you can tell, I can be a little neurotic. It’s already on the list of things I’m working on.