Nice Job Addict

Wow. The desire to smoke hit me as I was about to sit down. It's been so long since I've felt that desire I almost forgot what it was like.

So, here I am. The urge to write is strong, but the subject matter seems to be elusive. I feel a larger sense of what I write here being "better" than it used to be. Why? Because discovering I have two new followers that I don't even know caught me off gaurd and allowed my ego to get stroked for a moment. I've allowed myself to enjoy doing nothing for a few hours today, a very short few hours, I begin to get restless. Sitting here breads anger, like I'm not writing what I'm suppose to write. Something needs to be said and I'm not saying it. So why don't we start with what I'm looking at right now... literally & figuratively:

There is an empty plate with only smears of what's left of my chocolate cherry cake sitting under my computer monitor. Everytime I look at it I think, FUCK. There's a whole bunch of calories for nothing, only to let me crash later. Nice job addict. Along with the brownie, Totino's pizza, and ritz crackers and cheese.. wtf. I'm terrified of getting on the scale. I've done nothing but eat everything I could get my hands on for about a week. Except last night. A ray of hope shined. I left work after a 15 hour shift taking care of patients on a floor where over 60percent of them either had the flu or exhibited flu-like symptoms. I was wanting to baby myself becaue I had been up since 6:30 (and i'm NOT a morning person) dealt with a ton of sneezing, coughing, comfused patients, new staff, whiney staff, my coworker calling in and the day shift nurse staying over and leaving early and blah blah blah..... oh and I had one patient die before the day was through. Alright, enough of me whining. The end of the day I felt good, acoomplished, the ache in my feet brought nothing but gratitude the day was done. Somewhere along the drive home I thought McDonald's meal would be the perfect way to nurture mysef, then I realized that it wasn't the mcdonalds I wanted, but just to nurture myself, and I could do that with a shower once I got home, and so that's how it was. Thank God.

Somewhere, There Is Balance

"Your not too tired, because you haven't given up, you're still fighting."

I heard that today as I climbed that precor machine with anger, passion, an almost psychotic purpose of... letting go. Angry because I was angry, angry because I didn't know what ot do to NOT feel angry, angry because I didn't have all the answers, angry because I was so angry I couldn't hear myself think. I had 15 minutes, and I was going to make it as painful as possible. I woke up angry, and all I wanted to do was sweat, breathe, and burn... burn whatever it was that was boiling up inside of me. I haven't been able to put the fire out, so I was willing to feed it so it would burn itself out. Is that surrender?

I sat in a circle last night amongst people who conciously choose everyday to connect with something greater than themselves, to understand themselves more. I sat with tears in my eyes and said over and over, "I'm so tired." Tired of working so hard at being a better person everyday. Tired of having to hold it all together. All signs point to letting go and letting God. To release my will, and my tendencies to predict and "have to know" the outcome. I'm resisting. I"m fighting. I'm tired. I've spent my whole life fighting. More times than I can count I've said "I'm a fighter" and I am. But where is the balance?

Where is the balance?