I cancelled a get-together with two people today, which had the potential to become a business relationship-- and all because I wasn't in the mood to be social.
I was the one who set up the appointment last week. I was all "into it" then. But today, I was too busy feeling bad about myself to find the energy to clean up the house, pull myself together and have them over.
It even crossed my mind that I shouldn't be in this business, but now writing this down, I think it's clear... the problem is not the business per say, but me and my diseased thinking.
I've kinda spent the last few weeks "in the food." And I haven't felt comfortable posting about it. Too personal. But now I'm thinking, this is it, man. This is the stuff I need to write about. This is what I need to get out of my head. The irony of this is, back in September, during a brief period where I had my head on straight, I wrote the following:
Writing keeps me present. Accountable. It keeps me grounded. Writing gets all the crap of the day and my thoughts about it out of my head. I have learned that if I don't do this, I will eat over it. It's as simple as that. This blog is an exercise for me. As long as I keep writing I have hope for recovery.
Duh! So what happened? Life happened. And I chose not to write about it.