Hurting

Last night was tough, this morning I feel a dense cloud lingering in my head. I binged till I felt like my stomach was near to tearing.

I was and am so lonely. Actually, I feel it.

I feel pathetic writing about it again, I wish instead I was writing about how my life is so fulfilling and how happy I am. I have both arms, both legs, both parents, I have friends, I have money.I have everything that I need, physically.

Is this how it will always be? Life isn’t worth living if this is how it’s always going to be. I’m not suicidal, just fed up with these emotions.

Journaling is said to be the best thing to do after a night of binging – so despite the fact that I don’t want to write about it again, I will.

I am most vulnerable to binging on the weekend, specifically, Friday and Saturday nights. I have this belief that I am suppose to be out and about, at gatherings, laughing and enjoying myself with my friends. Instead, I was at home with Lola doing absolutely nothing productive for my mind. Karen was doing what I wished I was doing, and what I think  I should be doing to live to the fullest. She was hanging with her friends, drinking. I was on my phone, on the coach, googling with the keyword “loneliness” because it makes me feel better, for some reason, rather than being in the moment and watching whatever was on T.V.

My head hurts. I’m starting to think this self-pity and self-focus is also an addiction. I hear my dad’s voice in my head repeating, ‘I am so sad’ like a mantra. It seems, I’ve adopted that mantra as well.

My belief system needs to be remodeled and rebuilt because it’s not healthy and I don’t think it’s accurate either. I need to see a therapist but I am highly skeptical of its effectiveness. And they are so expensive as I’d pay out of pocket.

I’ve seen two before, one I saw about twice the other I saw more frequently. I can’t tell you how many times, but it wasn’t very effective. This time, I think will be better because I will be able to talk about what I’m feeling and thinking more clearly as I’m older.

Me me me, I I I, blah. I wish I can turn off my brain.

I go from self love and self care, to being ok with not doing a damn thing for it. My engine isn’t running smoothly and that’s what I need to focus on. Making my engine, my mind, run better. What does that take? Therapy? Do I have to run every single day? It really could be simply joining something to create a sense of community. But right now, that something seems so daunting, so unachievable. So, ineffective. I have the capacity to be truly happy, I’ve felt it before. But moments like these make those moments seem less real, it makes me feel that person that felt really happy was just naive to the realities of her sad life.

I’ll get up, get dressed, and get lunch with Kristina and her little – who just got into town last night – on her way back to Columbia. I’ll work out tonight and figure out when I can cancel my membership so that I can go to a gym right down the street. I’ll try my best to not think of my own sorrows.

I want to live a more meaningful life. That is the journey that I am on. It’s a lonely journey – to start off with.

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