Wrench, please
In my shop, when we're unloading or shipping furniture, I am often faced with undoing bolts or screws that have been in place for 100 years. Especially with old, old French armoires, it takes a tight wrench and a lot of elbow grease to get the old dirty rusty connectors moving.
I feel right now as if I'm trying to wrench my head around, giving it a major heave-ho, working to get back to a point of gratitude and acceptance. I am not white knuckling it, but neither am I in that divine spot where it feels I am floating on a cloud of grace and serenity.
So much better than it was, as I said this morning, but nowhere near where I want to be. Some of this is likely the aftereffects of excess. Why can't I remember that this. does. not. feel. good. Why? I have a disease that tells me I don't have a disease, tells me this time it will be different, I'll be able to handle it, keep on track, quit with one. It's a liar, this affliction. Maybe one day I will lose my ability to hear its voice.
I feel right now as if I'm trying to wrench my head around, giving it a major heave-ho, working to get back to a point of gratitude and acceptance. I am not white knuckling it, but neither am I in that divine spot where it feels I am floating on a cloud of grace and serenity.
So much better than it was, as I said this morning, but nowhere near where I want to be. Some of this is likely the aftereffects of excess. Why can't I remember that this. does. not. feel. good. Why? I have a disease that tells me I don't have a disease, tells me this time it will be different, I'll be able to handle it, keep on track, quit with one. It's a liar, this affliction. Maybe one day I will lose my ability to hear its voice.
Labels: addiction, eating disorders, weight loss
posted by BigAssBelle at 4:57 PM
3 Comments:
...but it feels pretty awesome when the bolts come loose.
(Literally and metaphorically.)
Sometimes you need someone to help you with the wrench. Sometimes you need to take a breather and let your hands rest and uncramp. Sometimes you need gloves. Don't feel bad about that.
Heh, heh. I read your headline really fast. Thought it said "Wench, please." I imagined you in a saucy Halloween costume having a confrontation somewhere. It must be this fever I have.
I keep forgetting I have this disease :(
The hand tattoo is a lovely idea. Maybe a nice Olde English-y type script.
My sis will be thrilled. She's wanted to take me to get a tat for several years now.
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