Today, my chubbchubbs, is a bad day.... or rather, its a bad evening. This is a journal entry based in irrationality and angry emotion....
Just thought I'd warn you.
Why is it irrational? Because any normal person who could look at the bigger picture, wouldn't be so upset. But when you are a little perfectionist like me, its the *little* things that irk the crap out of you....
The bigger picture is this: I had a great day at work, and my actresses performed grandly during this evening's performance.
Here's the minute details that are on the verge of sending me to tears: my skirt split, then I ripped off the button on my shirt, I left my headphones, (which means I cannot zone out musically while my mother is studying) and after working out so hard yesterday that my whole body is sore above the bellybutton, I am actually heavier. Oh yeah... the weather is crappy, and might be affecting my headaches.
And then there are my mom's interjections of dialogue with the computer lecture recording she is listening to. Grr...
Again... no headphones...
I get annoyed very deeply when intricate things go wrong, one right after the other. It burns in my chest, like an out-of-control flame, threatening to make me cry.
I don't do crying...
So, as a response to my refusal to cry, my body converts my sad annoyance to anger. Edgy, irritated, anger... the kind that slams drawers and then says "nothing is wrong."
Usually, my healthy outlet is to listen to music to calm down. But... there's no music remember? No headphones.
So what happened?
The half of a Hershey bar sitting in my purse began to call me. And call me. And call me. Loud pounding ringing in my head.
So I answered. I unwrapped and devoured the rest of the candy bar, violently and hatefully; waiting for the euphoric cocoa chemicals to kick into my neurotransmitters and calm me down.
And they did momentarily. The chocolate calmed me down from the strange mixture of fury and tears lurkin beneath my quiet demeanor. But the anger remained. The frustration remained. I was literally afraid to move or interact with my family because I knew that if I said too much, I would sound irritated, or say the wrong thing in spite. So I just laid out on the couch, curled up in a ball, with my back to the room. It was the safest thing I could think to do.
And then I felt the guilt of scarfing down half of a huge frickin hershey bar. That's like... 10 rectangles.
Remember the cupcake demons? There are Hershey demons too. And they just whisper to you. Like a alchy-smelling old friend whose drunkenness insures that they put their snoshy wet lips a little too close to your ear.
"Good job kiddo."
"Look at you. Another food binge."
"You're never going to beat this thing."
That Demon is called Defeatist Guilt. He just makes you feel worse about what you're doing, and simultaneously encourages you to give up trying to do better.
Then the tears brim up again, but I already told you. I don't do the tears if I can help it.
So, why the dark emotion?
I have clinical depression.
And why the separate, removed analysis of what is ocurring?
Because that's how my analytical brain works. I always somehow manage to experience emotion and yet simultaneously remove myself to a bird's eye view type of dissection. Its strange and mildly annoying. No, seriously. Its bad enough to go through the pain. I don't need a mental play-by-play of what's going on, and where it stems from psychologically.
But I do it anyway... I'm not sure how NOT to. Its a natural thing my brain does. Analyze, question, critique, criticize, breakdown, wonder, play out scenarios. All the time. All. The. Time.
Funny thing is, I think this adds to my depression. And its exhausting. Its EXHAUSTING. When the mind runs sixty miles per hour, its tired before you speak your first sentence of the day. Seriously. Mentally, I get drained very quickly.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
That was last night...
Today I awake to find myself much calmer, but still a convict of last night's actions. Remember how I said I was afraid to interact with my family? Well, I did have one small interaction, and it turned into the squabble of the morning.
And its a bit like Jekyll and Hide. The Doc always had to pay for the sins of Mr. Hide, even if he didn't quite understand what happened. (You know, I once was asked out by a guy who didn't know who Jekyll and Hide were.... courtship ended shortly after...)
So... its a *fantastic* start to my already tiresome day. And I'm still resisting the urge to wolf down whatever piece of sugary goodness comes my way.
And there's present anxiety. But its more subdued than the electric stormcloud that was billowing in my chest last night.
But I don't see this day coming out Sunny.
I just have to try very hard to steer myself away from cookies and cakes....
***
Fyi... it didn't work out. I had two cookies, some Hostess donuts, and two cupcakes....
Ah well, my lovelies... no one said I was perfect....
Love you all, my fellow Chubbchubbs. Remember... good food is delish, but good living is sweeter!
Just thought I'd warn you.
Why is it irrational? Because any normal person who could look at the bigger picture, wouldn't be so upset. But when you are a little perfectionist like me, its the *little* things that irk the crap out of you....
The bigger picture is this: I had a great day at work, and my actresses performed grandly during this evening's performance.
Here's the minute details that are on the verge of sending me to tears: my skirt split, then I ripped off the button on my shirt, I left my headphones, (which means I cannot zone out musically while my mother is studying) and after working out so hard yesterday that my whole body is sore above the bellybutton, I am actually heavier. Oh yeah... the weather is crappy, and might be affecting my headaches.
And then there are my mom's interjections of dialogue with the computer lecture recording she is listening to. Grr...
Again... no headphones...
I get annoyed very deeply when intricate things go wrong, one right after the other. It burns in my chest, like an out-of-control flame, threatening to make me cry.
I don't do crying...
So, as a response to my refusal to cry, my body converts my sad annoyance to anger. Edgy, irritated, anger... the kind that slams drawers and then says "nothing is wrong."
Usually, my healthy outlet is to listen to music to calm down. But... there's no music remember? No headphones.
So what happened?
The half of a Hershey bar sitting in my purse began to call me. And call me. And call me. Loud pounding ringing in my head.
So I answered. I unwrapped and devoured the rest of the candy bar, violently and hatefully; waiting for the euphoric cocoa chemicals to kick into my neurotransmitters and calm me down.
And they did momentarily. The chocolate calmed me down from the strange mixture of fury and tears lurkin beneath my quiet demeanor. But the anger remained. The frustration remained. I was literally afraid to move or interact with my family because I knew that if I said too much, I would sound irritated, or say the wrong thing in spite. So I just laid out on the couch, curled up in a ball, with my back to the room. It was the safest thing I could think to do.
And then I felt the guilt of scarfing down half of a huge frickin hershey bar. That's like... 10 rectangles.
Remember the cupcake demons? There are Hershey demons too. And they just whisper to you. Like a alchy-smelling old friend whose drunkenness insures that they put their snoshy wet lips a little too close to your ear.
"Good job kiddo."
"Look at you. Another food binge."
"You're never going to beat this thing."
That Demon is called Defeatist Guilt. He just makes you feel worse about what you're doing, and simultaneously encourages you to give up trying to do better.
Then the tears brim up again, but I already told you. I don't do the tears if I can help it.
So, why the dark emotion?
I have clinical depression.
And why the separate, removed analysis of what is ocurring?
Because that's how my analytical brain works. I always somehow manage to experience emotion and yet simultaneously remove myself to a bird's eye view type of dissection. Its strange and mildly annoying. No, seriously. Its bad enough to go through the pain. I don't need a mental play-by-play of what's going on, and where it stems from psychologically.
But I do it anyway... I'm not sure how NOT to. Its a natural thing my brain does. Analyze, question, critique, criticize, breakdown, wonder, play out scenarios. All the time. All. The. Time.
Funny thing is, I think this adds to my depression. And its exhausting. Its EXHAUSTING. When the mind runs sixty miles per hour, its tired before you speak your first sentence of the day. Seriously. Mentally, I get drained very quickly.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
That was last night...
Today I awake to find myself much calmer, but still a convict of last night's actions. Remember how I said I was afraid to interact with my family? Well, I did have one small interaction, and it turned into the squabble of the morning.
And its a bit like Jekyll and Hide. The Doc always had to pay for the sins of Mr. Hide, even if he didn't quite understand what happened. (You know, I once was asked out by a guy who didn't know who Jekyll and Hide were.... courtship ended shortly after...)
So... its a *fantastic* start to my already tiresome day. And I'm still resisting the urge to wolf down whatever piece of sugary goodness comes my way.
And there's present anxiety. But its more subdued than the electric stormcloud that was billowing in my chest last night.
But I don't see this day coming out Sunny.
I just have to try very hard to steer myself away from cookies and cakes....
***
Fyi... it didn't work out. I had two cookies, some Hostess donuts, and two cupcakes....
Ah well, my lovelies... no one said I was perfect....
Love you all, my fellow Chubbchubbs. Remember... good food is delish, but good living is sweeter!
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