melts in your mouth, not in your hand

Every now and then in my life, I get these stunning reminders that I cannot do life all by myself. I don't mean "all by myself" like a desert island dweller or hunch-backed hermit, but, you know, independent, on top of my game, smooth and unblemished. It's probably not a coincidence that peanut butter M&Ms have been a fixation of mine lately. Hardy candy shells are good for those M&Ms I've downed lately, not human beings or their hearts.

I submit the following evidence to you:



I really hate this picture. I shouldn't, because it was taken just a couple of days ago, and I have not radically altered my appearance since then, so this is pretty much me as I present myself to the world each day. I don't want to say I hate how I look. But I do. I look large. I feel large. I'm not bedridden or waddling or struggling to walk down the hall, but it's a direction I could go. I had this picture taken on purpose: sometimes you need to see exactly where you are to help define where you need to go and how you need to get there.

There's more under the surface, too. I have been anxious. I blamed it on school, the constant threat of homework and shifting schedules and unfair exams for the past 15 months. When I miscarried, I blamed it on my uterus. When I miscarried for the second time this year, I blamed my God. When I graduated, I blamed it on boards. All those things are done, and I'm still worked up. I could blame it now on starting a new job, the upcoming holidays, unrest in the Middle East, Orlando traffic, El nino, whatever. I'm starting to realize that there will always be something. And my God, I cannot keep feeling like a wind-up toy that's been wound too far. It makes me want to eat a lot and hide under the covers. It makes me not call my friends, and I felt so lonely tonight that I just broke down and cried after I couldn't get a hold of one of my best friends that I haven't spent quality time with in, I don't know, forever.

For now, life is taken in little one-minute bites. I've started eating better this week. It's hard, but it does feel better. I'm looking for someone to help me (professionally) sort out all the jumbled emotions I've squashed over the past two years, trying to be in control and not all messy and untoward. I'm getting out the running shoes - walking first for a while - because I remember feeling calmer and clearer when I did that. I'm calling friends. I'm praying a whole lot. I'm trying to shed the hard candy shell.