Seeing the light at the end of the funnel

Why does this remind me of a cinnamon roll?

When I don’t know where else to turn, when I don’t know what to do, I sit in the dark and type at God, or maybe the universe and quite possibly myself.  As far as I know I’m typing to the great Cat God in the sky.  Wouldn’t that be just like the universe to have a Cat God.

The universe isn’t ruled by a Cat god.

Like I would know?  After yesterday, I’m beginning to think it’s ruled by a clown god.

Do what you always do.  Write out the storm.

All right.  I made more sweet potato pie using a recipe off the internet. 

That’s not where you need to start.

For the past few months, I’ve been killing my stomach.  Are you satisfied now?

Are you satisfied?

It feels like I’m talking to one of those psycho-bots that people talk to who can’t find a psych who is still sane after listening to them for an hour.

You’re angry and it’s spillng over into your life like an acid volcano.

It’s my stomach that’s threatening to volcano.  It’s 2 in the morning, and I just had a dream about serial killers who fled to Mexico.  Everyone thinks they’re sweetie pies, but they’re a horror surprise wrapped in the disguise of a cinnamon roll.

You have a headache, in fact everything aches, and you’re feeling guilty for the way you acted yesterday.

I get so damned sick of people at times.  I get so damned sick of ME.  Memememememe.  Meme.

You’re angry for many reasons.  Instead of taking it out on yourself, think through the reasons why you might be wanting to punch something.

Yesterday, everything that came out of my mouth made me ashamed.

No.  You’re afraid that person is who you really are deep inside.  You’re afraid that the good person with a heart that most people see is really nothing more than a deadly toxin disguised as a pastry personality.

One woman just lost a loved one who died of cancer in her mid 20’s.  Instead of taking time to listen, I felt compelled to go so that I didn’t keep my husband waiting after yoga class.  I’ve lost my mom, dad, and a husband and I know how devastating it is for someone to say, “Hey, gotta go.  My ride’s here.”   And then there was Personal Trainer Barbie at the senior center guiding us into the world of new and inventive ways to break our hips using yoga.  I appreciate the fact that she volunteers her time, but if someone is injured trying to imitate a pretzel she could be sued.  The worst offense was the irritation I felt at the office.  The new person is being pulled a hundred different directions.  I didn’t need to insist that she finish the overview of what I do. 

You were irritated and yet you still felt compassion for the plights of others. 

It’s not enough to feel compassion for others when I should be showing compassion.  I’ve been blessed.  I’ve been in the right place at the right time for most of my life.  When I pray for minor miracles, a miracle happens. 

You’re given opportunities and you take them.  If you fail at one thing you don’t allow it to keep you from trying another.  You love writing and you’re doing what you need to do to be a writer.  Most people would fold under the pressure.  It’s given you new life.

But I’m nagging my sister to death.

It’s called persistence. 

I have relatively minor disabilities.

Feeling as if you’re not good enough — or strong enough — isn’t the same as being a bad person.  A bad person is one who takes oil out of the ground in the Amazon, leaves a mess behind and feels no remorse for the deaths caused by his mistakes.  A bad person twists the concept of free enterprise and individual responsibility to make good look bad, and tries to make the artificial construct of a monstrous corporation look good.  Any entity who finds a way to be unaccountable for their actions is evil.  On the other hand, you’re taking on more blame than you have the responsibility for.

Do you think it’s the pie?

I think that overeating is a form of self-hatred.  Instead of delving into the why, you’re acting in ways that become a self-fulfilling prophesy.

Does everyone do this?

You are what you repeat, not what you eat.  The road to regaining your self-worth begins when you understand that power over your own life starts from the inside.

And right now my insides are taking a beating.

Do some writing, take this pain and throw it into your characters.  Writing therapy is a lot safer than trying to prove to yourself and others that you’re a horrible person.  Stop trying to be something you’re not.

Thanks for helping me though this.

I’m simply explaining the storm, you’re the one who has to find shelter from it. 

That’s why I have you.