The mind of a sociopath

What's that saying, it take 21 days to form a routine, or something similar. I've been singing the same self-destructive sermon for a decade. It doesn't feel like there's hope for me.

Saturday (today): Sleep in. Struggle to physically leave my bed. My body aches. My stomach sticks out, the product of a late night numbing binge. My face itches. My hair feels gross. My thoughts instantly turn dark. I put on my glasses and gaze around my room - it's a mess. Clothes everywhere. A dusty floor. Chaos leaking out of my closet. Ghetto posters left over from college taped to my cracking walls. 

Walk into the living room and it's the same story. Messy and unorganized. It stinks. I need to clean the cat's litter but oops, forgot to buy cat litter when I was at the store last night (buying frozen pizza). Walk into my tiny kitchen and put the coffee on. Wash dishes. Leave on the counter to dry. Check facebook and feel depressed all over again. Pour cup of coffee. Repeat. Now I'm here.

I have reached a new level of depression. This wave has brought me down below the ocean floor. This entire week was AWFUL. My mood was TERRIBLE. I binged EVERY DAY. I spent money on fast food nearly every day. I got a parking ticket. My hair looks like shit (I cut it). My attitude has just been straight up poor and I've done NOTHING to help myself.

On top of everything, I was "called off" work at the restaurant TWICE this week. I just paid rent. I am BROKE and PISSED about it.

Looking back to Monday...my good friend came over. We had a nice talk. Her life is going great. Full time job, new boyfriend she met online who adores her. She's pretty, with money. And...she told me that I lost weight. I denied it immediately. There's no way, right? But apparently my stupid subconscious was like SCORE now you can EAT!. And eat, I did.

And now I sit here, with the understanding that I spent at least $40 on binge food this week, with the stomach of a fat person, with the mind of a sociopath, and I just...hate myself. So inexplicably much.

I'm supposed to go home today. To do laundry and file my taxes. Haven't seen my parents in about a month. It's already 1PM and I haven't showered. Must. Get. Moving.

Oh, and last time I wrote about M. I was fine, dealing with it alright...until he pulled the disappearing act again. I emailed him, kept it cool and casual and he wrote me back right away. Basically saying that he was sexually attracted to me but didn't appreciate my attitude (remember I told you I was swearing at him via text before he came over?). He said, "it's not a good idea for me to be around people who lose their cool so much."

Ah, hell, he's right. I do lose it. I lose my mind. I am unable to stop myself. I am so lost.

How do I turn it around, you guys? How can I help myself?? 

Sun day, dark soul

It's a sunny Sunday, I'm off, and I have no idea what to do with myself. That's a lie, I have plenty of things I could be doing. But my marijuana-muddled motivation has slipped low, picture me falling down drunk on the icy driveway and laying still instead of standing. That's where I'm at.

So what am I doing? Sipping water and smoking pot and staring at the internet, wanting an option. I know I'm living the life of an addict. What's it going to take for me to stop? This is something my therapist has been really getting on me about. He gets this worried look on his face and speaks to me like I'm idiotic.

I am, I really am, and I'm human too, so the usual excuses can all be applied here. But he expects more of me, like I expect more of everyone. I demand you to jump and I command you to promptly ask "how high?"

Was that a pun? A smoking pun infused into my words like I put it there subconsciously, as if my brain only recognizes the connections between smoking and everything. Do I give my brain the choice? Do I have a choice?

*****

Yours,
Sar

I have been floated

Oktoberfest party today...food and beer. Just what I need. I'm getting dressed up though, because there's gonna be boys there. And we all know how I'm desperately seeking the male gaze and approval. My weight is steady. My mind not so much. Our road trip last week went very well, we are now seeing each other (C. and I), however he struggles with both depression and addiction like moi. So are we good together? Or a terrible influence? Only time will tell.

I'm rereading The Bell Jar and wallowing in Sylvia's sadness. I'm unable to go a day without weed, my decade-long addiction has reached a new level and it frightens me. I legitimately feel like I cannot stop. Yes, my therapist is aware, and we're going to work on it. I'm proud of myself for sticking it out (talk therapy) for six straight (somewhat successful) months. I believe it's making a difference on my mood. I am still stagnant however, and long for growth, but am frozen by fear. I can be helped, I hope.

Take care and think thin, lovely people of the world.
XO
~Sar