go back to setting goals. At least I was striving for something. I am discovering it it not healthy
to have no plans and to go nowhere. I don't want to go back to work, but I need to be engaged on a meaningful level. Housework is not meaningful. It is important and must be done, but I don't like doing it. However, as it needs to be done, I shall set goals for that every day. And, I hope I start pursuing a meaningful hobby.
Today, I need to:
Sweep the kitchen floor
Water my plants
Clean the bathrooms
Cook lunch
Start cleaning out Wes's closet
Wes's closet is a nightmare. Not his things--just all of the things I have been taking out of other rooms and throwing in his closet, but I need it cleaned by Thanksgiving so I can get the Christmas tree out of the bottom.
It is pouring down rain, so I will also make time to read today and play solitaire. I need to mop the kitchen floor but it's pointless on a day like today.
I need to lose weight. Still. I need to cut down on my drinking. Still. I need to like myself more. Still.
Update: 7:40 PM. I did sweep the floor, water the plants, and cook lunch. It was not a good day. I have worn myself out thinking of what I never talk about to anyone because I have no one to talk to.
Tuesday, October 29, 2019
Monday, October 28, 2019
Arcing Left
I want to wear sundresses and fashionable boots. The former: so I can wilt lightly in Southern heat, and the latter, so I can look cool slipping across the parking lot on the way to my car (the car and I having no good reason
to be circumnavigating strip malls and large retail (cough cough--did I mention Wal Mart?)
parking lots in the middle of winter. No reason, except this: no reason. Summer has passed. The opportunity for sundresses now in the books. I can hear the baseball game in the background as I type this and must fully acknowledge I missed another opportunity to lose fifty pounds and wear a sundress, and then, maybe, I would have been adventurous enough to have purchased tickets to a ballgame, where my new sundress would have
caught the attention of some woman like me who would likely have said, "Hmmm...she wears that well, bet she's starving herself" as the ball arced left, just foul, and before she had time to think, it capped her on the right temple, and as her body crumpled, her mind struggled to remember remember who is right, who is left, where in the hell are my fucking keys?
Blah
Monday morning blahs
I don't know how to fix the format on here. I don't have a word processor on my computer. I don't have a printer.
If I really wanted to get serious about writing, don't you think I would do something about those things?
If I really wanted to learn to play the piano, wouldn't I be in the living room getting out those three beginners piano books I ordered and only looked at and used on the day I got them (for about 2 hours).
If I really wanted to learn to paint or draw, wouldn't I go get the sketch book out of the drawer in Wes's bedroom and practice?
If I really wanted to lose weight, wouldn't I stick to a diet plan and lose weight? Speaking of which, I am 253.6 today. That is down from the all time high of 259, and less than I weighed Friday (255), but my weight fluctuates from 251.6-259 and has been doing that for over a year now. I actually set a goal 3 weeks ago when I weighed 256.2. My goal was to be under 250 by my birthday (which is one week from today). That was a very reachable goal, but have I been doing anything to make it a reality? No, or I would be at 252.2 or less by now. 2 pounds a week is a safe amount, but have I tried? No.
If I really wanted to have a friend, wouldn't I reach out more? No. Daisy (from the Crisis program--I worked with her for one year and we have stayed in touch on Facebook but have not seen one another in about 5 years) contacted me about coming to visit her. We have talked about it a few times over the last year. I made up my mind to go, even though all I was feeling was anxiety about going somewhere by myself and staying overnight at Daisy's. I put all that aside, went to the gas station and filled up the car for the drive to and from Clarksville, went to CVS and bought her boys a mini monster truck and invisible marker drawing pads and put them in little gift bags. I tried contacting her, but she was at the museum (don't know what museum or where but I am guessing Nashville). Later that afternoon, she messaged me and said she had driven home in a terrible storm and her power was out. She also said that her husband contacted her and was coming home two days early, so she could not make any plans for me coming. I thought to myself: this is what happens when you reach out and make an effort. It falls through. So, then I thought to myself: there must be a reason for this. Then I thought to myself: I feel relieved. I don't have to be anxious any longer. No worrying about snoring or waking anyone up at night or going to stay with someone I have never even visited. Then I thought: It's okay if I never have a friend. I have always felt like I have never had a friend who completely accepts me and is there for me. Then I thought: No one has even come to this house to visit me in so very long. No one in this town has made an effort to come and see me or to contact me when I got rid of so many people on FB.
Then I thought: so, do we choose our path? Do we make life what it is, or was I born to be this way? Always feeling alone and lonely. Never knowing how to fully embrace a friendship or a partner. It makes me wonder what in the hell I did in a past life to have created this path for myself in this life.
Today, I am thinking of how I physically feel bad most every day. Not dying bad. Not thinking I have some incurable disease bad. Just feeling bad and uninspired and depressed. So, if I lost weight and quit drinking and started exercising, would I then be a happy person? I don't think it works like that.
I don't know how to fix the format on here. I don't have a word processor on my computer. I don't have a printer.
If I really wanted to get serious about writing, don't you think I would do something about those things?
If I really wanted to learn to play the piano, wouldn't I be in the living room getting out those three beginners piano books I ordered and only looked at and used on the day I got them (for about 2 hours).
If I really wanted to learn to paint or draw, wouldn't I go get the sketch book out of the drawer in Wes's bedroom and practice?
If I really wanted to lose weight, wouldn't I stick to a diet plan and lose weight? Speaking of which, I am 253.6 today. That is down from the all time high of 259, and less than I weighed Friday (255), but my weight fluctuates from 251.6-259 and has been doing that for over a year now. I actually set a goal 3 weeks ago when I weighed 256.2. My goal was to be under 250 by my birthday (which is one week from today). That was a very reachable goal, but have I been doing anything to make it a reality? No, or I would be at 252.2 or less by now. 2 pounds a week is a safe amount, but have I tried? No.
If I really wanted to have a friend, wouldn't I reach out more? No. Daisy (from the Crisis program--I worked with her for one year and we have stayed in touch on Facebook but have not seen one another in about 5 years) contacted me about coming to visit her. We have talked about it a few times over the last year. I made up my mind to go, even though all I was feeling was anxiety about going somewhere by myself and staying overnight at Daisy's. I put all that aside, went to the gas station and filled up the car for the drive to and from Clarksville, went to CVS and bought her boys a mini monster truck and invisible marker drawing pads and put them in little gift bags. I tried contacting her, but she was at the museum (don't know what museum or where but I am guessing Nashville). Later that afternoon, she messaged me and said she had driven home in a terrible storm and her power was out. She also said that her husband contacted her and was coming home two days early, so she could not make any plans for me coming. I thought to myself: this is what happens when you reach out and make an effort. It falls through. So, then I thought to myself: there must be a reason for this. Then I thought to myself: I feel relieved. I don't have to be anxious any longer. No worrying about snoring or waking anyone up at night or going to stay with someone I have never even visited. Then I thought: It's okay if I never have a friend. I have always felt like I have never had a friend who completely accepts me and is there for me. Then I thought: No one has even come to this house to visit me in so very long. No one in this town has made an effort to come and see me or to contact me when I got rid of so many people on FB.
Then I thought: so, do we choose our path? Do we make life what it is, or was I born to be this way? Always feeling alone and lonely. Never knowing how to fully embrace a friendship or a partner. It makes me wonder what in the hell I did in a past life to have created this path for myself in this life.
Today, I am thinking of how I physically feel bad most every day. Not dying bad. Not thinking I have some incurable disease bad. Just feeling bad and uninspired and depressed. So, if I lost weight and quit drinking and started exercising, would I then be a happy person? I don't think it works like that.
Sunday, October 27, 2019
Arcing Left
I want to wear sundresses and fashionable
boots. The former: so I can wilt lightly
in Southern heat, and the latter, so I can look
cool slipping across the parking lot on the way
to my car (the car and I having no good reason
to be circumnavigating strip malls and large
retail (cough cough--did I mention Wal Mart?)
parking lots. No reason, except this: no reason.
Summer has passed. The opportunity for sundresses
now in the books. I can hear the baseball game
in the background as I type this and must fully
acknowledge I missed another opportunity to lose
fifty pounds and wear a sundress, and then, maybe,
I would have been adventurous enough to have
purchased tickets to a ballgame, where my new
sundress would have caught the attention
of some woman like me who would likely
have said, "Hmmm...she wears that well, bet
she's starving herself" as the ball arced left,
just foul, and before she had time to think,
capped her on the right temple, her crumpling
body trying to remember who is right, who
is left, where in the hell are the keys?
I want to wear sundresses and fashionable
boots. The former: so I can wilt lightly
in Southern heat, and the latter, so I can look
cool slipping across the parking lot on the way
to my car (the car and I having no good reason
to be circumnavigating strip malls and large
retail (cough cough--did I mention Wal Mart?)
parking lots. No reason, except this: no reason.
Summer has passed. The opportunity for sundresses
now in the books. I can hear the baseball game
in the background as I type this and must fully
acknowledge I missed another opportunity to lose
fifty pounds and wear a sundress, and then, maybe,
I would have been adventurous enough to have
purchased tickets to a ballgame, where my new
sundress would have caught the attention
of some woman like me who would likely
have said, "Hmmm...she wears that well, bet
she's starving herself" as the ball arced left,
just foul, and before she had time to think,
capped her on the right temple, her crumpling
body trying to remember who is right, who
is left, where in the hell are the keys?
Saturday, October 26, 2019
Friday, October 25, 2019
Talk
I tried talking to Robin about his losses as a child. It started with a comment about aunts. I don't know what. He said ...shit, I can't remember. So, then, I tried talking about childhood trauma, and he said he was trying to watch the game (World Series, though he never watches baseball). I just said we were done. We would never be able to talk about anything that mattered, but there is more, and I suck at typing and don't want to put the effort into this. My nostrils are filled with the smell of some kind of cleaning something or the other though I haven't been cleaning. This change in my sense of taste and smell is driving me nuts.
I tried talking to Robin about his losses as a child. It started with a comment about aunts. I don't know what. He said ...shit, I can't remember. So, then, I tried talking about childhood trauma, and he said he was trying to watch the game (World Series, though he never watches baseball). I just said we were done. We would never be able to talk about anything that mattered, but there is more, and I suck at typing and don't want to put the effort into this. My nostrils are filled with the smell of some kind of cleaning something or the other though I haven't been cleaning. This change in my sense of taste and smell is driving me nuts.
Thursday, October 24, 2019
Wednesday, October 23, 2019
Overeating on my mother's 83rd birthday
Yes, today is my mother's 83rd birthday. It is now 8:35 PM here in Western KY. I did not call her. I did not go and see her. I did not send her anything. She lives about 5 blocks from me. I last saw her on Christmas Day 2018. Since that day, she has said and done things which have hurt me. No more than she has hurt me my entire life but enough so that I have chosen to not be involved in her life.
I woke up today thinking I could at least send some flowers, even if I did not include a card. I thought that way because I figured she would toss the flowers into the garbage can if she found out they were from me. I was concerned about her calling the local florist and causing some issues trying to find out who sent the flowers, so I just nixed that idea altogether.
So then, I tried to get easy about not recognizing her birthday in any way, and I went to Amazon and ordered a box of chocolates. I got a discount, so they cost me a dollar and 47 cents or something like that. They won't get there until tomorrow, and my name can't be traced because she won't be able to figure that one out, but at least she'll get some chocolates tomorrow, and my mind can rest easy because I sent her a gift. Right! Oh, how unfunny this all is. It's absolutely ludicrous. But, what can I do? I don't want to see her. I don't want to keep feeling like the piece of shit she's always made me feel like. So, I hope she likes her box of chocolates, and if not, I won't know.
So, I ate a helluva a lot of nuts and have had too much Jose. I am sorry.
I woke up today thinking I could at least send some flowers, even if I did not include a card. I thought that way because I figured she would toss the flowers into the garbage can if she found out they were from me. I was concerned about her calling the local florist and causing some issues trying to find out who sent the flowers, so I just nixed that idea altogether.
So then, I tried to get easy about not recognizing her birthday in any way, and I went to Amazon and ordered a box of chocolates. I got a discount, so they cost me a dollar and 47 cents or something like that. They won't get there until tomorrow, and my name can't be traced because she won't be able to figure that one out, but at least she'll get some chocolates tomorrow, and my mind can rest easy because I sent her a gift. Right! Oh, how unfunny this all is. It's absolutely ludicrous. But, what can I do? I don't want to see her. I don't want to keep feeling like the piece of shit she's always made me feel like. So, I hope she likes her box of chocolates, and if not, I won't know.
So, I ate a helluva a lot of nuts and have had too much Jose. I am sorry.
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