It's an absolutely gorgeous Fall day. What I want more than anything is to be outside hiking to a climbing spot or kayaking. I'd even settle for a nice long bike ride. However, none of these things are going to be done by me today. Weakened in body and mind, I feel little ability to move from where I sit.
For whatever reason, my anxiety is peaking. Within the threshold of a panic attack, I usually can't do much more than breathe, read light material, do sudoku, stretch or maybe, maybe exercise. There's no way I can leave the house like this.
I haven't been eating well. Obviously. My weight...sigh...my weight. If I keep this bull shit up, I'll be in the 80s probably next week sometime. I do and don't welcome the thought. I don't really want to make myself weak or sick, but I can't stop. All of the fears and anxieties I have related to the world at large are transferred into something else when I'm engaged in this behavior, but it comes at a huge price. This is my freaking life, man.
What am I doing?
It's not like I'm a teenager anymore. My body has been put through the ringer over the years and I wonder how much more abuse it'll take. People die from this like junkies die from overdoses. I'm not ok. My life is not ok.
Always, I've landed on my feet when met with life's more difficult challenges, but this; this last trauma I've endured has me out floating, freaking out and afraid like a cat in a tree. I wish I knew what to do. I wish I knew how to save my goddamn life. At the same time, I wish I could leave it behind.
I'm so fucked.
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