more thoughts about my life

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.