We've been talking about moving, getting out of this area, making a change. It occurred to me yesterday that that's what I have been trying to do most of my life. It's what my dad tried to do most of his life. To move and expect things to be different without changing ones self is fairly close to insanity. The only way to make things change is to change the way you see things. That is what I have to do.
I have lived in many places, to many even to remember accurately. It all turns into a blur of states, towns, houses, faces and places. The only common theme amongst it all has been me, my attitude, my feelings. As a result, they have all been the same, miserable. Same shit, different place.
Lack of social skills, self loathing, mistrust of most people, a strong dislike of authority, it all leads to a very lonely, sad person. Years of living in a dysfunctional family, with parents who argued on what seemed like a daily basis, really screwed up my view of reality. I have perpetuated the cycle by putting myself into dysfunctional relationships and the doing my best to sabotage them, because I don't know anything else.
All of this has, over the years, caused me to turn to food as a filler. Something to place in the empty void of my life. A friend, a lover, a constant companion. Lack of stimulation in my life has caused me to turn to food. To experience the taste, the smell, the texture, to feel full, of something, anything. I have finally realized that food is not my friend. It is, in fact, an evil, sneaky enemy bent on killing me slowly. I am fighting a battle for my life with something akin to a lover. Until I change, nothing around me will change.
I must fix my relationship with food. I must fix the way I see the world and those around me. I must fix the way I see myself. Until I do these things, nothing will change, no matter where I find myself. I have locked myself in an internal prison. One only I have the key for. One I am finally wanting to escape from. The door is rusty and stuck from being locked so many years, but I will get it open. I must get it open. The alternative is more misery, more pain, more sadness, and sooner than later, an early death.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
seriously lacking focus
My mind seems to be floating out in space, totally disconnected from, everything. Sometimes it seems that is the only way I stay alive, halfway sane and functioning. Reality is pain, depression, more pain. My body is tired. My body is sending me a loud, clear and painful message. Fix me or die. So now, all bullshit aside, no more excuses. It's very simple, I can continue committing slow and painful suicide, or I can make changes in my life.
That's what food is to me, a loaded gun with a very very slow bullet. I've been actively killing myself for the last 15 years or more, one bite at a time. Food is an addiction for me, as bad as any drug. It's a compulsion, a filler for something lacking in my life. I find myself eating when I had to intention to do so. I eat to much, without realizing what I am doing. Or maybe just not caring at the time. I disassociate, detach and lose conscious control of my actions. Like a heroin addict chasing the monkey.
This is the first time I have ever thought of food as a drug. It's a hard thing to realize. It's even harder to admit. To acknowledge that I have been actively committing suicide one hamburger at a time. I have to fix this.
It's somewhat eye opening when a person realizes they weigh a 1/4 of a ton. Actually slightly more. My current weight is 547 pounds. I can't walk to the end of my driveway without being in severe pain. Every time I go upstairs, I wonder if I'm going to make it before my heart pops or my knees cave and I do a face plant. Coming down them is even more of an adventure. I'm in constant pain, even sitting or laying down, I hurt. My body has had enough, it can't take it any more.
So here, finally, begins the big fight, the long battle, the war. It's a life or death fight. Only two ways to win, die, or get healthy. I have years of negativity and bad habits to overcome. I must find a different filler for the void I continually attempt to fill with food. Just being aware I'm doing it is a huge step for me.
That's what food is to me, a loaded gun with a very very slow bullet. I've been actively killing myself for the last 15 years or more, one bite at a time. Food is an addiction for me, as bad as any drug. It's a compulsion, a filler for something lacking in my life. I find myself eating when I had to intention to do so. I eat to much, without realizing what I am doing. Or maybe just not caring at the time. I disassociate, detach and lose conscious control of my actions. Like a heroin addict chasing the monkey.
This is the first time I have ever thought of food as a drug. It's a hard thing to realize. It's even harder to admit. To acknowledge that I have been actively committing suicide one hamburger at a time. I have to fix this.
It's somewhat eye opening when a person realizes they weigh a 1/4 of a ton. Actually slightly more. My current weight is 547 pounds. I can't walk to the end of my driveway without being in severe pain. Every time I go upstairs, I wonder if I'm going to make it before my heart pops or my knees cave and I do a face plant. Coming down them is even more of an adventure. I'm in constant pain, even sitting or laying down, I hurt. My body has had enough, it can't take it any more.
So here, finally, begins the big fight, the long battle, the war. It's a life or death fight. Only two ways to win, die, or get healthy. I have years of negativity and bad habits to overcome. I must find a different filler for the void I continually attempt to fill with food. Just being aware I'm doing it is a huge step for me.
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