The Shitstorm

I have not been sticking to my word lately. It has really bothered me these past couple of days, and I can't get the feeling out of my head. There is nothing worse than being disappointed in yourself... of this I am sure. Summer 09 has been such an insane trip... I can hardly believe it is going to end so soon. I remember looking at myself in the mirror almost three months ago and not being able to convince myself that I was worth anything better than what I had, not capable of any obstacle worth overcoming... but somehow I found a way to get this far. For the first time that I can literally ever remember... this summer I finally felt happy with the person I was. Happy, but not satisfied...though once I reached that point, a lot of my motivation went flying out the window. I feel like I deserve to eat and exercise like a normal person, but if I were normal to begin with... I probably wouldn't be here. Coming to terms with the fact that I am not where I want to be, probably never will be, and having to constantly be aware of that... what a mind job. I walk into a restaurant and see all the angles... I can name the calories in at least half the foods at any fast food joint, exercising is not something I do for endurance or because it feels good after.... I do it so I can live with myself when I look in the mirror the next day.

When I broke my foot, I was completely incapacitated for two days. The depression was overwhelming, only twice have I ever felt that shitty in my life, that being the third, and its already happened once before this summer. I made it through early July, though the pain was not physical. But those two days last week, it was both physical and mental... my whole world had come crashing to the ground, I had no way to prepare myself as I have been for the move to Ohio State. My exercise went to shit, I was laying around feeling sorry for myself, but at the same time trying to avoid all the food that would have temporarily made me feel better. I would have given myself a D+ food-wise and a fail for exercise... but it was an odd excuse that I could not avoid. I thought I was going to be completely immobilized for 6 weeks or better, and if my foot does not heal right... I will need surgery with a two month recovery time. My luck tells me there is probably a surgery in the future. Despite this, after my visit with the doctor and my brand new cast, I was back on my feet (kind of) and able to go back to work to do light duty. I felt great, I ate right for the next few days, and then the weekend hit, all the family came into town, and there was way too much drinking, way too much food. It was the craziest weekend I have had so far this summer, and I had a great time, was able to forgive myself for slipping hard, and was ready for another week of healthy livin.

As the forces of fate love me so, this morning I am contacted by the person responsible for why the entire month of July (and the past two years, for that matter) sucked shit harder than Creed's new single. I won't lie about it, her betrayal is one of the key reasons why I push myself so hard... it is just a never-ending pool of hate from which I dip massive amounts of motivation. I wear the necklace she gave me still, just to remind myself when I look in the mirror. I purposly think about her just to get pissed off whenever I don't want to lift or run, or when eating a gallon of ice cream sounds like my best option. By now, most of you that read know that I'm a person that dwells on hate... and if I have no channel... it grows inward. I think a lot of people avoid hate because they fear the evils and torments that are often assosciated with it.... but I would have to say that both hate for myself and hate for those who have directly fucked up my life are the main reasons why I've lost 50 pounds in something like 3 months. So to say that I was happy with myself for the first time I have ever remembered is a BIG FUCKING DEAL. I found a way to make hate useful, suffice to say. It might be worth noting that when I was younger, I suffered from severe anxiety and depression, so bad that I refused treatment simply because I didn't believe I was worth it. Since then, things have gotten much better and I have found ways to control the depression and most of the anxiety, but my x factor continues to be other people in my life. I was actually told to try blogging by a good friend of mine because he worries that I don't have enough connection with others in my life... and well... I do this now because it feels good to get things out in the open and let people know... but I wouldn't put myself on any blogroll, that's for sure. And I'm OK with that... this is a good place for me reguardless, and there are a few awesome people that I stay pretty regular with... and it is enough.

The point of all this is... a lot of that hate came back when she contacted me today, and I've been so fucked up by my (oot, rib, finger, back, knee and shoulder injuries, (not to mention a bee sting) these past few weeks, I just went completely off the handle when I got her message. It was overwhelming and uncontrollable.... I couldn't even see straight when I finished reading what she had to say. I don't know if its healthy anymore, but I don't know how to deal with all of... this. I'm just completely, totally and utterly out of whack... and I'm starting to blame myself for it. Angry that I'm exhausted, that I don't want to lift. Pissed off that I can't control my emotions around her, and we life across the street from one another. Lonely every moment. Scared that it is my fault, that I'm going to ruin something else too. Depressed that I can't stop feeling like every day is a fucking war against the world. Ashamed for skipping workouts, even if my foot is busted, I can still do upper body while sitting, right? I mean... its a god damned clusterfuck in brain. I just can't get it together. I can't focus. To make matters worst, I'm going into my toughest year yet up at school, and this one is for the marbles.

What the fuck do I have to do? Do I sack up and go to work and continue working out, hoping that I don't need surgery? If I stop working or working out completely, busted foot or not, I'm going to be letting myself and my Dad down, not to mention I'll be about a thousand bucks short going back to school.

Do I not work out, not go to work, and just lay around all day? Every second tempted by gratuitious amounts of delicious food? Will I get even more depressed if I'm not doing anything? What if my foot turns out all right and I feel like I wasted an immense aount of time for nothing? What if I can't find a job while I'm up at school and my money inevitably runs out three months before school ends?


And what about all that completely unpredicable emotional crap? What is best for my spirit? I can't fall down the rabbit hole, but my sanity is dwindling as is.


What would you do?