Comfort of Strangers

I hauled myself to the local WLS support group today. I haven't gone in ages...I'm always busy on Saturday mornings. But I felt like it was the least I should do for my sorry excuse of a shrinking ass.

Today's topic: who do you turn to for support. Um...anonymous people (voyeurs, actually) on the internet who reach out to lost souls such as myself. Seriously, though. I so have a support network. I just feel like I'm in this by myself right now.

I wanted to say something in the group, but I felt like I was going to vomit if I did. Or choke. Or cry. So I just sat there, kind of numb. Understanding that everyone in that room was just like me, but not really.

I know there are people that go to group that read this. I know that if I told any one of them that I'm on the edge, they'd pony up for me. I'm just not able to do that. Maybe it's that I'm not ready to take the help. Maybe it's that I'm too proud...because perfect girls don't go screwing up perfect opportunities to have a perfect life.

I also don't know what kind of help it is that I want. I don't want to talk about the specifics. I don't want empathy. I don't want to ramble. I kind of just want people to let me figure this out. Just send me the vibe telling me you'd do anything to help...but don't ask me what you can do. Because I honestly don't know. And when I can't tell you, then I feel like a dope.

So group probably helped. I actually came home and did something other than curl up in a ball on the couch. The office is nearly painted. I ran a couple of errands. I took a reasonable hour-long nap. Though I haven't eaten a "meal" today...only snacks of not so good things. More than I wanted to. Every bite a chomp of guilt stuck in my throat.

Will I go back next month? I don't know. I probably should go to my surgeon's group too. But I feel so conspicuous wherever I go...and that crowd, probably even moreso.

Tonight. A visit from my brother. I've been thinking about a glass of wine all day. Early to bed. Then it all starts again tomorrow. Deep breath.

This is how I am screwed up

For breakfast, I drank a protein shake and a latte. For lunch I had a protein shake. Dinner I had a can of soup. And then I felt like I ate too much for the day and should throw up.

But three days ago, I probably had twice the calories I ate all day today...in one sitting...multiplied by three or four.

It's one friggin' extreme to another.

Yeah, I get that it's not right. Some thing is screwed in my head. I have no control. I love me some control! Maybe control is the issue. Once I don't have it, I feel like I'll never get it again and I panic. And that leads to spiraling even more out of control. And that is screwed up, isn't it?

Clarity

I have moments when the truth of my life flashes bright and spheres of electric blue and green throb against the pitch black of here and now. It's dizzying. My first reaction is to shut my eyes to dim the blaze, conjure up the haze that is so comfortable.

I wonder how much more bravery I need to muster before I can force my eyes wide open, knowing what's coming, and stare back, unblinking.