Recap

So it’s been a little while since I’ve blogged, aside from my admittedly odd Kenny Rodgers homage. For the record, The Gambler is a great song, and one that I wish I had really listened to a few years ago.

Anyhow, I’m going to try not to get bogged down by the negative, but if I’m being honest, here is where my head’s been at over the past few weeks.

The Run
I ran a 5k about three weeks ago. To be honest, the wind was zapped from my sails before I had even run the race. Someone close to me hurt me in connection with the race, and I never really recovered my enthusiasm. I know that this person never intended to hurt me, but there it is.

Nevertheless, I ran on race day, but the joy wasn’t there. I still haven’t quite found my mojo again, but I’m working on it.

The Diet
Sadly, the run and the diet are pretty closely connected. Let’s just say that once I recover my mojo there will be a bit more of me recovering it. ‘Nuff said.

The Darkness
Not just a fairly awesome Brit band, but also what I call my depression. For the record, I also call it The Blackness. When I get like that, the world sucks. I feel like food has no taste, even though I eat enough of it. Water doesn’t quench my thirst, sleep doesn’t refresh, and coffee doesn’t wake me up. I’ve been in that pit for the past couple of weeks.

People offer to help, but I don’t know how to accept it. If I’m being totally honest, there is a part of me that doesn’t want to accept it. I almost relish the feeling of despair while hating it at the same time. I want people to want to help me, but not actually help me. I’m a mini Sylvia Plath without the gas oven. I feel as if I am marinating in a pit of self-pity, not to put too fine of a point on it, and I like the pruny fingers.

I’m just a big old ray of sunshine.

Fortunately, I’m finally coming out of it.

Once the cloud starts to lift I can see how miserable I’ve been, and feel regret for the bitch I’ve morphed into. If I have hurt you, let you down or otherwise disappointed you, I am sorry.

I wish I could say it won’t happen again, but I’m pretty sure it will. Fatalistic? Maybe. Realistic? Yep.

I’ve been this way for a long time – easily since the age of 12. I like to think that as I’ve gotten older I’ve gotten a little bit better at masking the symptoms, but nobody’s perfect.

Life is noting but a series opportunities to learn.

I’m still learning.

I have a great deal to learn.