1638My room

Sep. 19, 2003

 

You know...I don't think I'm making any progress in life. Not
growing, not learning from mistakes, not facing my bugaboos &
conquering them...nothing.

Here is my life: a room with 4 cinderblock walls and a big comfy bed
in the middle. The walls are: Work, Body, Relationships, and
Everything Else. I run as hard and fast as I can and smack the wall.
I sit there, stunned at the realization that 'OMG, there is a wall!"
Then I go lie down in the comfy bed (denial). Then I go running full-
speed and hit another wall. Nothing is getting solved. Nothing is
getting fixed. I temporarily forget that I have a shitty job I hate.
I temporarily forget that I'm dysfunctional, I temporarily forget
that I'm fat and lazy. I temporarily forget that I don't like any of
my old hobbies or interests and haven't found anything to replace
them. And then I hit the wall again.

Back to bed. Hitting these walls makes me too sad & angry. Hitting
these walls makes me hate myself and want to die. If there's a door
in this room, I can't see it. If there's a door in this room, I'm
more afraid of what's outside than I am of what's in here.