Friday, April 06, 2007

om shanti god damn shanti

this is a picture from a few years ago. i've probably gained a few since this was taken but it's basically me-- by the way, i do not age. it is very weird. i look the same as i did when i was sweet sixteen. and that's the truth. people tell me that this is good but i see it as just another little thing that gets in the way sometimes.

that's where my head is right now. i am a lonely resident at YOUAREAPIECEOFSHITVILLE and i have settled in just fine. i am a law abiding citizen of YOUAREAPIECEOFSHITVILLE and as soon as i feel positive or if i respect myself in any way i immediately remind myself that i am, indeed, a piece of shit and i tell myself to stop playing myself and to stop even trying to feel good because it won't last. violins are the national instrument of YOUAREAPIECEOFSHITVILLE. so, cue them now.

i have been eating like a maniac, maniac on the floor, and i'm eatin' like i've never eatin' before. i am talking self sabotage, people. i am talking meatball heroes, pringles, soda, grape candy, coffee "drinks", pizza, etc. it's sick. it's a sickness. i am purposely making terrible decisions. it feels like i can't stop, like i'm out of control. i feel like a crazy person.

and now, as i'm writing this, i'm thinking, ooh, maybe i should order a whole pizza so i can have some now and then later when i'm hungry and then probably tomorrow for breakfast and then for a snack. then i'll know for a day and a half i will be stocked with something for my crazy person cravings...

when i'm hungry and there's nothing around i feel so worked up and out of control and my eyes get all narrow and beady and it gets really quiet in the house and the only thing that can be heard is the refrigerator door opening and closing 87 times because maybe, just maybe, i'll see something that i didn't see before.

i learned in the movie 28 days with sandra bullock that the definition of a crazy person is doing the same thing over and over expecting to get different results.

so this is what happens when i open up the fridge a million times and basically it's what i'm doing with all this emotional eating.

what am i expecting?

do i think that i'm going to feel better once i have a pizza pie inside of me, covering my little shriveled heart like a blanket? i do have to say, when i'm eating, it does make me feel good-- but then cut to TWO SECONDS after i'm done and, you guessed it, i'm not so happy anymore.

so what to do in place of the emotional eating? i'd like to refer you to the picture above (where if you look closely at my tetas you can see that i'm wearing a corona bikini. classy). i am making fun of the man in the background but let's just say for shits and giggles that i'm actually meditating.

people have told me that when i feel like eating i should just close my eyes and meditate for a minute. take a breath, change a feeling type thing. it is, in fact, true that taking a deep breath can really change your whole perspective on something. not big things, not life altering things, just things that exist in moments-- it can change how you deal with something. i'm sure they discuss this in anger management classes and at heal yourself workshops at kripalu.

but let me tell you how much it takes just to convince myself of this whole breathing thing. i am reeeeeeeally stubborn. or as my grandpa would've said stu-bor-ren with three syllables. i am so good at rolling my eyes-- just ask my mom. i am so good at laughing things off in self defense. i really think i'm standing in my own way in some little but dangerous ways.

i don't mean the whole breathing thing. i just mean a bunch of little helpful things that i brush off that when added all together could really provide me with some help.

it's really comfortable here in YOUAREAPIECEOFSHITVILLE. there's not much to do, not many responsibilities-- just to remind myself of my piece of shit status-- and the weather is chilly so i can wear my comfy sweatpants and big sweatshirts to hide my hideousness.

sending love from YOUAREAPIECEOFSHITVILLE and wish you were here!
xo rach


PS-- SOMEHOW THIS WHOLE THING HAS ENDED UP IN ITALICS AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO CHANGE IT. SEE? I CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT-- I KID, I KID.

2 Comments:

Blogger melyssa. said...

I never knew we were neighbours.

I live in the same place.

May I borrow a cup of pizza?

You spoke for the huddled and cuddlesome masses. Thank you.

3:01 PM  
Blogger melyssa. said...

Update? Please? I only just discovered you and I've overdosed on every single one of your archives. You can't leave me hanging like this...

:)

1:57 PM  

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