in the fog

Is this what it is like after a drunk wakes up on a bender?  The disorientation, the pain in your head, the sick taste in your mouth that makes you wants to vomit?  You get up, and you stumble out of bed.  You can’t say you walk to the bath room, because it isn’t really a walk.  It is more of a shuffle.  Your right foot seems to be working correctly but your left foot doesn’t want to cooperate with you.  You are walking on the outside of that foot.  Again if you can call it walking, because you really aren’t picking it up and setting it down, you really are more pulling it along with you?  You crack a smile although it is a weak one and you say to the emptiness all around you “I must look like the fattest walker of all time.”  Because isn’t your migration towards the bathroom really just a fat man doing his version of the zombie shuffle.  How many times have you been walking along since you started watching the Walking Dead and said, sometimes I feel like I move like those things move.  Slow, jerky movements, that seems to be more effort than they are worth.  

You piss, because after all that was the goal of this little shuffle was to make it to the bathroom wasn’t it.  Then you turn around and debate about calling in sick to work this Monday or continuing your zombie shuffle to the kitchen to turn on the Kcup machine.  It isn’t a long debate.  You have to go, no, you want to go, need to go.  So, you open the bedroom door and you shuffle on.  You glance into the mirrors of the hallway and you see your girth pass by.  You don’t look long; you don’t want to see it.  

You turn the corner and walk into the living room and you are greeted by what is lying on the table.  One pint of Ben and Jerry’s empty.  Three small containers of that used to include Nestle Dibs.  It’s all gone.  Every bite of it, consumed, by me and the truth is I don’t even know why.  

That isn’t the only graveyard; I could walk by in my house either.  I have bodies hidden everywhere, like   In the bottom of my recycling bin, hidden so the world can’t see it.  However, I know it is there.  It contains two bags from McDonald’s, no three.  It contains a box from pizza hut and trash from the bagel shop too.  It doesn’t belong there, just like the empty soda cups don’t belong there, or this latest addition of ice cream containers but it will go there because no one will ever look there.  No one would ever see my shame.  

But they do see my shame.  It is carried with me everywhere I go.  It is the fat the clings to my body.  That slows me down.  That makes me hate to look into the mirror.  

How much further can we fall?  What was so different between now and then? A year ago, when I felt like I was in control of my life and the world was mine.  Why could I then and I can’t now?  Why did I believe then and don’t believe now.

Could it be possible that I am worse off now than I was a year ago?  Is it possible that? What in God’s name have I done?  A year ago I was all pumped about making Ribs, my Mom’s birthday, and a pot roast.  This year, I am like.  Oh well, whatever. 

I don’t know. I feel lost.  Even spending the day cooking yesterday, I still feel lost.  I feel like hope is fleeting.  I feel like no matter what I always end up back in one place and that is failing. 

The haze never lifted today and sitting here at this time of writing, I still feel like I did when I woke up today.  Just a little out of it and like there is just something wrong.  With me?  With the world?  With what, I can’t put my finger on.  I don’t know.

All I know is through two meals today, I am on track.  No process sugar.  That is a big step in the right direction.  I will try to stay off the binge.  I will talk to Sue about it this week.  I actually know some of the shit that bothers me, but somehow can’t find myself to admit it here.  

What I need to do is pull my shit together.  Remember, that I deserve a good life.  I deserve to be happy.  I can have everything I want; I just have to work for it.  I just need to work really hard right now reprograming my brain. I have to work really on getting back in the right frame of mind.  

I have to remember I deserve a better life.  My reality is what I make it.  I can change the way I think, but I have to work at it.  I have to be willing to take the extra step.  To make the effort.  Maybe, I need to take a que from those around me who smile more than they frown, who feel great about themselves every day, and keep shit into perspective.  

I know attitude is everything.  Now it is just time for me to get my back to where it needs to be.