What I need is more intestinal fortitude. @ 08:17 am
Current Mood: bitter
Every time I try to turn over a new leaf, someone spills ink all over the page.
I really had myself psyched up. Tomorrow I was going to shape up. Get back on NutriSystem and stick to it 100%. Exercise at least five days per week. Get a routine going so I can get things done.
Then yesterday happened.
I don't know what is going to happen with my mother. I know I have no choice, as her only surviving relative aside from Faeon, to do what I can to take care of her. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to fly down there until she stabilizes. And most of you know just how much I dread spending any time at all visiting my mom. She keeps telling me, "I'm ready to go. I've lived too long. I'm ready to go." But if the tests are to be believed, she is in good health for someone who is 93. Her biggest threat is falling and breaking her neck.
And the most beloved pet I have ever had has disappeared. Everyone keeps telling me that she will come back home, but I'm so scared she won't. I want her back so badly that the pain shoots through me like something physical.
I'm supposed to deal with these new developments while trying to cope with the fact that my children have been taken from me and are living in an emotionally abusive environment.
And therefore I drink. And eat snack food. And spend excessive time distracting myself with DVDs and Wii games. Anything to temporarily stop me from screaming.
Logically I know that taking care of my health should make me better able to deal with this garbage, as should being productive and getting stuff done instead of dwelling on what I can't change or obsessing on possible futures. ("Sufficient unto the day are the evils thereof.") I don't want to be the sort of person who spends all day on the couch, eating, drinking, and watching TV.
But I am way beyond being simply overwhelmed.