I like to pretend that I have it all together. And, as a general rule, I do a pretty good job of convincing those around me that I'm in control. However, as the song goes "don't believe me when I say I've got it down"...my issues are abundant, and some days I don't even know how I manage to keep all the ends together. It can be exhausting.
Recently, I've been obsessively picking over my food issues. Not that I one day sat down and decided that it was far time I worked out all the kinks, and have since been systematically dissecting my thought and behavior patterns; no, that would be far too healthy. Instead it seems I keep getting side-swiped by illogical and irrational concerns that completely knock me on my ass, and threaten to send me running to the nearest closet with a gallon of cookie dough ice cream. Stupid things like getting angry (don't worry, thus far I'm able to keep it completely internalized), when my husband eats three bowls of cereal. Not stupid play angry, like "geez what a pig", but really in my heart angry that there might not be any left...like he's getting more than his share, and I'm going to be left out. Is that not the craziest thing you've ever heard? I mean, I know it's got to go back to my grandmother and the whole story I've told before, but jeez... time to grow up, eh? This morning I opened the fridge and saw that for his midnight snack last night he ate more than 3/4 of the cheesecake I had put in there to thaw...and I tell you what...it's a damn good thing he had already left for work because I was so irrationally pissed off. So I stood there in the kitchen, 1/2 of me wanting to stomp my feet and scream "how dare he!!!" and the other 1/2 of me telling the first 1/2 to shut up and get over it. And it's not like I'm in danger of starving or anything...I just get this crazy panic thing going when I'm faced with the remote possibility of not getting something...I know...I sound greedy and foolish, and while yes, I probably am foolish, it's really not a greed thing. I don't feel like I want all of anything, I just panic that I won't get any at all. I can't explain it exactly, but it makes me feel like the one place I really belong is in the big padded room at the local mental hospital.
