This compulsion to write is going to drive me nuts. Ohhhh wait a second. It already has driven me nuts! The only consistent thing for me about writing is that it drives me nuts. And I looooove it! Writing and I have that kind of relationship found in great romantic comedies. Like, we get on each other's nerves all of the time! One of us is uptight, the other wears Hawaiian shirts to the office! We are so opposite, but eventually we will fall in love (and in bed) with one another because, well, it's written in the script! But that script will never be written because writing drives me batty.
But this shall no longer be a post about writing. This won't even be a post about romantic comedies! I know how deeply disappointed you must be right now. Shall I write more food memories? Or what I crave? Probably not. Yesterday I was super motivated with all things food related. I wanted to rediscover and reminisce about it! I wanted to read recipe books, roll up my sleeves, and actually cook something! Now my stomach just kinda hurts and I want to stare at a blank wall until I feel something. Ho-hum. Is it too early to get into my pajamas?
I am not so hopeless today, although I sure sound like it. A lot of nice things happened this afternoon. I even treated myself to my favorite kind of chapstick at the store! And then there was the pleasant walk around the park. And then there was the pleasant conversation with my mom. And then there was the fact that Chex Mix was on sale for ONE DOLLAR. I bought it, but will I eat it? I guess I just can't pass up a deal.
I feel like I am trying to be my own therapist, but it can only work for so long. Like, I get that meditation and yoga and fresh air and meaningful relationships are great. I have various workbooks for the treatment of multiple mental illnesses. I reach out to others and ask for help. I keep going forward even after occasionally taking a few steps back. But something is still missing. I am quickly running out of steam. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up alone.
So maybe I'll "cave" and call the therapist tomorrow. The worst thing that could happen is that the therapist and I drive each other nuts and end up spooning on the chaise lounge in their office. Hey, at least I'll put my favorite chapstick to good use WINK WINK. Here's to a fresh start. Here's to continuing.