The only question that matters…

The only question that matters…

There are many truths out there and many questions that have to be asked, however only one question has to be asked and answered.  Before, we get to that; let’s talk about one truth first.  And that is that the truth of things is I am never going to wake up one day and just be ok.  I have years and year of built up hate, fear, bad habits, and anger inside me.  For anyone to believe, I am just going to diet, and all the other shit is forgotten is funny fucked in the head.  It took my 38 years to build the labyrinth that is my mind and my poor health, and lack of self-esteem, so it is going to take some time to reverse it.  So, don’t be alarmed when I tell you I am sitting at the gym, crying after reading an email.  That when I tell you some days I don’t want to get out of bed and want to give up.  I tell what is on the mind and what is in the heart.  I am uncensored and real.  I have chosen that path.  I choose to be the open book that I have always spoken about being.  I choose that path over the other.  So, lest hope it doesn’t take another 38 years to reverse the negative self-talk, if it does, it does, but we will take one day at time and baby steps.  I am better today than I was yesterday and better in January 2014 than January 2013.  Each time I talk about being sad, or angry, or hateful, I am releasing the bad gunky from inside.  I have to let go of the bad gunky. 

I am unsure how a normal mind works.  I don’t have a normal mind.  I have an obsessive mind.  What do I mean?  Not enough time or space to write this all out right now.  Anyone who knows me knows I am a victim of my own gods be damned ability to over think something.  The obsessive mind is riddle with pitfalls.  However, the one that might be the worst is the inability to stop asking questions.  I am constantly asking myself questions.  I am constantly turning things over, and over and over in my mind.  Through these questions I create conspiracies.  Through these conspiracies I create stress for myself.  It becomes exhausting, almost too much to deal with and bear.  The things, worlds and worries I have created.  I accept this about myself, because it is who I am.  The same mind that creates worry, an stress, also creates happiness, joy, and worlds.  I have created worlds.  If I could only share them without, I would.  I am trying.  I am writing every day.  I get most of it is crap and just my journal, however, it is what I can do right now.  I will try to show you into the worlds I have created.  So, as I said I accept this. 

I have spent the last four days in a fog and a haze, and each time I thought, perhaps things can’t possible get any worse they did.  There was always something: betrayal, stress, self-loathing, hate, or anger.  It is what it is and life is not fair.  The entire I was turning a question over and over in my mind.  Not just a question but the most important one that I can ask at this time, and the only one that matters.  I was not doing it in the front of my mind, not always.  Of all the questions I asked over the last week, month, year, or life time, it is was the only that mattered.  All those questions that were asked this week and the only one I don’t think I answered until about an hour ago…  So many questions:

“Is this the right job for me?”

“Should I work out tonight?”

“Should I let her go for good?”

“What is the Twelve and why did they cross the plains of Amerouth?”

“Where do bad folks go when they die?”

“Am a good writer or is all this crap?”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Do I believe I can change?”

“Why do people love me?”

“Who am I?”

“Why am I scared to move on?”

“Am I in the correct profession?”

“How did they know it was a fucking Ghoul?”

“Who is cooler Clooney or Olyphant? And more importantly who has better hair?”

“How much weight do I need to lose to be happy?”

“Why don’t I love myself?”

 “What are they doing right now?”

“Will it be ok?”

“Why do I still miss her?”

“Should I stay in Maui longer?”

“When should I take some time off?”

“Why don’t I believe in me?”

“Gastric bypass?”

“Why am I so angry?”

“Why do I feel so betrayed?”

All of these are good questions.  All of them need to be answered.  However, right now, none of them are the right question.  None of them really matter until one other questions is answered.  The only question that matters.  It’s a simple question to ask too.  A question that should be simple to answer as well, but it isn’t always.  The question is…

“Do I want to die?”

Make no mistake here… I am not contemplating taking my own life or hurting myself.  I am trying to get the bad gunky out here.  I have to ask this question because let’s all put our cards on the table here and be brutally honest am I not slowly but surely killing my body with my weight?  Over the last six years let’s do the math because I don’t need excel to do this.  I have gained over 100 pounds.  I have seen my waist size grow by 10 sizes.   My blood pressure is on the rise and is high.  I am morbidly obese (have the doctor’s note to proof it too).  I am no longer able to walk over a couple miles.  I have trouble getting up stairs on my own.  My knees hurt.  I am winded.  I was smoking half pack a day almost three months ago. 

People if that is slowly killing me, I don’t know what the fuck is and like I said this ain’t simple.  It ain’t like let’s go on a diet and it will all be ok tomorrow. Plus, I am 100% convinced right now if I went had Gastric bypass, I would either eat through the stitches or pick up another vice, because something is broken people.  I am on broken.  I am.  I freely admit that.  All the questions above and the thousands more I ask myself each day are a testament, to that.  Did I not ask the question the other day how do you pick up the pieces of a broken life?  How do you see what the others see?  How do you love yourself?  More questions. 

So, I have struggle with this question.   Again, I stress this, and I stress this BIG, BIG I am not going to hurt myself in anyway other than maybe a little many French fries or pizza.  I have to say this because Mom, I know you are reading and I know you worry, but for anyone else who might worry, that isn’t the point of this.  I have struggle b/c everything I do seems to be in complete opposite of what I say.  That is the struggle.  One can’t simply house Burger King one night, McDonalds the next and really expect to tell himself oh yes, everything is hunk dory and it’s all sunshine and purple unicorns on Strawflower lane!!!!  It’s been a tough week. 

I can answer the question, though.  After screaming and yes I felt like I screamed at Sue for an hour today and being on the verge of tears for three times today, I can answer this.  I DON’T want to die.  I want to pick up the pieces of my broken life.  I want to live.  I want to swim.  I want to ride. I want to run.  I want to feel good.  I want to love myself.  I want to accept who I am now.  I want to like this person.  I don’t really care if I ever lose another pound.  I don’t.  What I care about is moving and living.  I care about walking.  I care about laughing.  I want to see through the eyes someone who loves me unconditionally.   

People at work, most of them, I will say, the ones that I give two shits about, love me.  I don’t always understand why, but I think I do.  I am smart, whether I want to believe or not, I am good at what I don and I get it.  However, also, I think I bring the power laughter.  I can’t help it even when I am fucking angry, I can’t help but be funny.  I think in a place that isn’t always sunny, I bring a ray of light to a dark place. I guess my point is at work, at play, at whatever, people love me.   How do I get these glasses on?  How do I see what they see, so that I can believe it?

I asked Sue today how in the fuck I do it, how do I fix a broken life.  She told me honestly one piece at a time.  One piece at a time, it’s the only way to do it. 

So, here on a Friday afternoon in Pleasanton, I find myself daring to believe, that even though this week felt bad, it was actually good.  That I am cautiously optimistic we are better.  That I am we are moving forward.  That today I am better than yesterday and so on and so forth, and each time I fall down, I will pick myself back up.  I will continue to fight.  I will continue to bleed. I will continue to poor my heart out into this blog.  I will choose life.  I will take the dog for a walk tonight even if it is only to kooser and back.  I will go swim tomorrow, and Sunday.  I will sit down with Rachel when she gets back and make our plan for WW2 (which isn’t a diet), I will order the Gabriel Method Book, I will fight.  Because choose life.  I have been dead at least twice.  Once when I was 21, once when I was 26, and some could argue over the last two years, but I don’t like it. I don’t want it.  I don’t need.  I want to live.  I see a day when my pill box only includes my multi-vitamin.   Off the anxiety, depression, and high blood pressure meds, and off the steroids.  I see this in my future, because I see a future.  I think it will be a combination of holistic and western medicine.  I think there is a balance.  I think the number one thing I have is unconditional love of me from me, for myself.  This can’t be about getting healthier to get laid, or fall in love with someone else, get rich, get smart or anything like that.  It has to be about me.  Loving me.  Getting better.  Being me, and proud of me.   today is a good day…  tomorrow will be better!  So it begins… my new life.  A new me.  a life to be proud of.  A life to live to the fullest..