She walks around with shackles around her ankles that are a day away from snapping. 3:00 AMs are spent trying to convince herself that she needs to go into the pit of intellectual drain so she can pay her way to freedom. Do you ever feel that despite your best efforts, they constantly fall short? That has been the overwhelming feeling for her the last few years. The repetitive actions continue to produce the same results and despite knowing this, she engages in that cycle while screaming to herself that the course must change. The high feeling of the crazy bets don’t keep her away and instead entices her to make decisions she knows will hurt her until she is green again. Those lights, smells and sounds are so addicting that time seems to dissipate and logic is not applied because the premise of self-control condones bad behavior.
7:30 AM decides to come by as she sits in her car crying and arguing with him for what seems to be the 100th time that week. He can’t seem to understand that his actions have changed her image of the woman she thought she was. Each action has a consequence and while her heart is overjoyed after finally meeting the other main one, the new insecurities are unabating. Has she ever been enough or was this done unintentionally, maliciously as a statement of revenge from her previous transgressions? Was it the right choice to eject the bundle of unnamed cells or was it her intuition that this would work itself out in the end? Another post for another day.
It is now 5:00 PM and after ingesting five doughnuts and four slices of pizza, she stands in the bathroom looking at herself in the window disgusted by the lack of progress she has made. The 170 lb woman stares back at her daring to catch up. Emotional eating is her best friend so despite the laxatives, fasts and flushes, she remains in that weight zone that laughs at her constant mistakes. I am the woman who engages in bad behaviors, has trust issues and uses food as a mask to the issues I am unwilling to resolve. However, as I head toward the last year of my twenties, I feel that is now or never. I need to break up with my multiple lovers. This is an open letter to my demons and thick waist line. It has been fun but we can’t be together anymore. Take your belongings because I am breaking up with you.