Embracing My Inner Sprouted Grain Waffle

I haven’t written in a while because I haven’t written in a while. Holy crap, can’t write a blog now. It’s been days…weeks…months…two and a half months, actually.

It has been 24 days since my last run…how much does that suck?

I am already 36 years old. Think of all the things that I am too old to try…to start…to hope for…

It has been nearly a year since my last serious bout with the blues. Who cares when it takes three days to get off the couch? 3 outta 365…that is 0.8%…and I let it define my whole person.

It has been 2 weeks since my last whole food juice…and only 2 hours since I nommed on some fried spicy chicken wings.

Do you see what I just did there? I spaghettied up a whole bunch of crap. I focused on yesterday’s shortcomings. I compounded little things to fabricate big things. I let a paper cut fester – then I decided to perceive it as a lost limb.  I know I am not the only one who does this. But I let it convince me that I am a weak freak.

Time to waffle it out…separate the actual from the trash. I have read the book and don’t think it is a dude/chick thing. It is a balance thing. I am over spaghettied and under waffled.

Is this a bit of public therapy? Maybe. But what the hell, I pay for this space 😉 And, quite frankly, I know a couple of truths:

  1. I have never engaged in a public display of (tactful) confession (mine or another’s) that didn’t result in some type of good.
  2.  Support of friends is priceless…and…friends can’t support you if they don’t know you need it.
  3. I am not the only one who feels this way…and…having others speak it is helpful.
  4. Speaking it = accountability
  5. I now know better how I feel since I have thought a good piece of it out on paper.

So, now what?

I write – even if I feel like I have nothing to say and even if it has been two and a half months since I have done it. If I waited any longer it might well be three months – and that is worse. So this may not feel good, but it feels better now than it would tomorrow.

I run tomorrow 🙂 simply because it is already too dark right now. The husband will already say I have started back to soon 🙂 Don’t want to further it by going after dark.

I love birthdays. I will continue to enjoy their function of celebration of a person’s existence. But screw their relevance to time passed and remaining time on the clock. My life is not a football game. I am not limited to, nor am I guaranteed,  four quarters of quality playing time. I will continue to change-up the plays, enjoy the process, march up the field, and take a loss when necessary.

If occasional cycles of emotional unrest is the worst health complication I have right now, then I am amazingly fortunate.  It could be so much worse. The cycles could be more often, more severe. My self awareness could be lower and I could be totally at my chemistry’s mercy. I could be in a place with no support, no understanding, no love, no grace. I am not. I am blessed beyond measure and I will not forget that.

I will remember that my body will behave like garbage if I fuel it with garbage…after Mexico 🙂

See what I did right there 🙂

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