Friday, February 22, 2008

Shit

I feel like it.

Since last Friday when we agreed to the book contract, I've been allowing myself to eat pretty indiscriminately (there have been Chipotle runs, beer and cake, frosted cookies, chocolate cream pie, nachos, and more), and I've only worked out once this week. Some of this also has to do with a lot of work and lingering personal life stress, and the stress and unhealthy eating habits feed one another. The more stressed I am, the more I want to eat shit. The more shit I eat, the worse I feel. The more shit I eat, the more I don't care that I'm eating shit and feeling like shit. I haven't eaten so much shit the entire time since I got diagnosed as I have this week.

I've spent the whole week feeling up and down, mostly eight kinds of down, and now I'm just kind of weepy and exhausted.

I hate that I have to be so hyper-vigilant about food and exercise all the time. I hate that I can't eat what I want. I hate that I feel like shit, and the only way to get feeling level again is to tighten my control back up again and practice that hyper-vigilance.

I think that sometimes I just get tired of living under that tight control all the time. Sometimes I just want to bust out. Then I do, and this is where it gets me. I have to keep myself under control if I want to live any kind of life worth living.

Whine. Whine. Whine.

3 comments so far. What are your thoughts?

Greg van Eekhout said...

Take a tip from a veteran: Whenever I feel this way, I stick a random stranger with 20 units of insulin.

But then I give them a box of cupcakes, so it's all good.

clindsay said...

Why is it that when we get good news, so many of us chicks get weepy and emo??? So weird. I have been emo all week too...because I am HAPPY!

That shit ain't right.

Kameron Hurley said...

It's weird, yo. I think you just get so used to bad things happening that when good things happen you don't know what to do about them.

I'm just sort of wandering around in a frosted-cookie-induced coma.... (or, in the case of tonight, a beer and pizza induced coma. Last night for bullshit food; hopefully last night of weepy blues for awhile. We'll see)