No idea..

My entire life I have searched high and low for something to be wrong with me.  I knew there had to be something.   I have spent a life time creating that something wrong with me.  I am not 100% sure what that even means other than my whole life I wanted to an excuse a reason for doing less than what was asked of me.  Now, I have it.  My weight is crippling my body.  If I don’t do something about it, it will be a matter of time before the body fails me.  I have destroyed my body.  Some sick sense of self-loathing combined with hate of the world.  I am angry.  I have always been angry.  I see it in my writing.  I see my humor.  I see my anger everywhere.  My food gets here tonight.  I need my food. I need to get start working towards a goal.  I crave structure in the chaos I have created in my everyday life.  I also have found salvation.  It’s in my writing.  Good or bad, happy or sad, X-rated, or G it matters little.  All that matters is I do it.  1,000 words last night, and I kept myself busy and distracted, and I created. 

Tomorrow, I am going.  So now I sit her and take the long deep breath before the plunge.  Tomorrow after a month and half of talking about it I am going to meet with Kelly’s friend about OA.   Well, because as a wise man once said “I am just and addict.”  I have to change.  I have to.  I have been walking, a little bit each day.  I have been talking a lot.  However, it is time, to accept the hand I have dealt myself.  Was I always a food addict?  Maybe?  Maybe not?  What I know is I ate, I ate out of some feeling of not being good enough.  Not being loved.  Not being able to reign in the non-stop thoughts that rattle around in my mind.  In the end it doesn’t matter why.  All that matters is I see it.  I do see it.  I see my addiction like my anger everywhere.  I see it in the hiding of bags of fast food in the neighbors trash can.  I see it in the eating alone and in shame.  I feel it.  Oh god do I feel it in my back, in my side, I feel it everywhere. 

I am ashamed of what I have been.  I am not ashamed though of who I am.  I think that is important for some reason.  I know who I am.  I know what I am.  I know that there is so much more than the addict.  I see it in the conversation I have with myself, and the fantasies I act out loud. 

Yes, I act my fantasies out loud quit often, I think it facilitates the creative process.  Most of the time it is alone and in my car.  Sometimes it is at home.  It matters little and less.  What matters is I accept all this as part of who I am.  I watch myself through the non-stop docu-drama I have become the star of in my mind.    

My mind.  That is the key and it always has been.  My mind, holds the key.  I sometimes marvel at the beautiful simplicity of my mind.  The primal urges to eat, drink, fuck, breath, so on and so forth.  Then I also marvel at the layers up on layers of it.  Last night was a perfect example of house fast my mind can shift from topic to topic.  I was sitting at my desk writing a fictional story risque, while at the same time have a chat on facebook, while I was talking on the phone with a co-worker, and playing with the puppy.  It shifts so fast.  It is so fucking beautiful.  So powerful.  So deep.  So quick. 

At this point I have no idea why I started writing this, other than the need to post a blog.  That I have a need to tell myself that I am trying here and I want to get better, better than I am today.  Wanting you the reader to know I am trying.  More importantly telling myself and externalizing what I need to know.  That I am still on the path of the beam and I am still working on Jeans in January 2015.  That I am