This is “real” but it is not “truth.” For some reason I feel stuffed today. I feel so stuffed, so fat, so filled with water, salt, bacon, greasy, gross, blobness. I hate feeling like this – the intertube floating somewhere between my boobs and my hips – oh, the horror – the food baby horror. Hate it. Feeling huge, fingers fat. Craving ice cream, hating myself for craving ice cream. Oh, chubby hubby. Caramel cone. Oh, ice cream. You evil, evil temptress. Oh, french fries, you fabulous greasy lovelies. Ranch dressing. Bacon barbeque. Blue cheese, cream cheese, bagel, goodness. Oh the horror.
I do really want ice cream.
I feel grey and calm and floating in this weird disconnected body that doesn’t quite feel like my own. My energy is coming up, my muscles are finding themselves, and yet my brain is being pulled around by a dark rip current. Do I fight against it for shore? Do I become mindful of my predicament and do what I can until it drops off and I can swim? Do I forgive myself for craving ice cream or do I head to the store? Oh, chubby hubby you call lovely sweet rich peanut buttery, chocolate whispers to me.
I feel grey and calm and floating and yet some part of me is disconnected and that part wants ice cream. That part feels fat and ugly and gross, that part wants to pull me down. That part is not the strongest part of me and yet that part has moments of power. Rational me knows this – but my body “feels” what that ugly part shouts. Tonight, I cannot shake it but I will take a moment and breath, remember I am a talented, beautiful woman (even though I don’t “feel” it at the moment) and drink some water, and be thankful that tomorrow is a new day. That is truth, even though it doesn’t feel real at this particular moment.