I have been on top of the world. But, I have also been so far down a rabbit hole that it’s a wonder I’m still sane. Fortunately, I like carrots and my rabbit friends like to share …
January 25
It’s almost amusing. The way I flounder back and forth like a fish out of water. A lost soul on a teeter totter just trying to make it teeter and totter without anyone’s help. Which, of course, everyone knows is impossible.
Yesterday, I took a picture of myself … I did it because I actually felt somewhat decent. I didn’t feel like an ogre. I didn’t “feel” fat and ugly and gross. My mind was calm and I thought, for just a moment, that maybe if I felt decent and I actually looked decent, then perhaps all this bullshit bouncing around in my head is just the monsters playing tricks with my mind. And perhaps, if I look at the picture and it doesn’t make me want to vomit, then perhaps I’m not as gross as I sometimes think I am. And so … I took the picture. And you know what, for a few minutes I was OK.
For the better half of Sunday, I went about my day in a semi-fog trying to convince myself I looked good. Trying to convince myself that the number on the scale is just that, a number. Trying to convince myself that I was pretty. That I was smart. That I was … OK. That I wasn’t fat. Wasn’t stupid. And it worked. Until today. Because I weighed myself and while the number on the scale might just be “a number,” it’s the one number that I live and breathe by. It’s the number—not the way I look or feel, it’s the number that dictates my very existence. And if I’m being completely honest, I really don’t know what to do about it. I’m trapped. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get out of my own way. And I feel like one big giant ogre … so, I deleted the picture. Fucking monsters!
For years, more than I can count, I suffered from a debilitating eating disorder and thoughts of inadequacy. I have had moments of triumph … moments that lasted for days, weeks, and sometimes, even months. But eventually, those moments were all crowded with doubt, darkness and negative self-talk. The “voices,” or “monsters” in my mind (I don’t really hear voices), are what/who controlled me for far, far too long.
The passage above, January 25 “The Monsters,” is from one of my many journals (not from 2026) and one of the many reasons I decided to start my podcast, “Finally Thriving and Seriously Irritated,” where, I talk about almost everything … goals, inadequacy, fulfillment, purpose … friendship, disappointment, loyalty and falseness … and maybe my mother. my husband, about love, about sex … about family, children and heartache … and of course, about the monsters. About the moments where I laid crippled on the floor, terrified to be seen in public, afraid someone would judge me, call me fat, laugh at me.
And so … stop by sometime for more and learn how I finally learned to thrive ; ) and stopped settling for life in the middle. The official trailer is live on YouTube.
Today’s post inspired by, well, me … and the Daily Prompt: “Describe a part of your life that was difficult to let go of.”
Cover image, yes, that’s me on a random hill in eastern Oregon.
DISCLAIMER: I’m a writer and an editor. And I try my best to make sure every post is articulate and free from errors. However, being that I edit my own work—and it’s next to impossible to properly edit your own work—I admit, occasionally there may be an error or two I miss. But doing so doesn’t make me an idiot so don’t be mean. Just smile, pat yourself on the back for finding an error and be glad you’re not the only one who makes mistakes sometimes … xoxox
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