Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Fear 1

I feckin' chickened out.  Got there 30 minutes late and stood outside the restaurant, looking in at a table full of people laughing, talking, eating.  Knowing that I didn't have the nerve to walk in and interrupt.  That I couldn't possibly be welcome in there.  I hugged myself tight, but just couldn't.  Take.  That.  Step.

I turned and hustled away, trying to put my arms down, struggling to look as normal as possible, hating my scaredy-cat self.  I took myself to the bookstore, since that's usually a treat, but I was on the verge of tears the whole time.  I couldn't think of anyone to contact for support or encouragement or sympathy.  So I went home.  I didn't really feel like talking to anyone anyway.

I did some cooking, which filled the house with good smells.  Then curled up with the new Charlaine Harris/Sookie Stackhouse book and my cat and some homemade cinnamon kettlecorn.  Yes, kettlecorn is completely against the rules for Primal Blueprint, but I'm on an ice cream detox and I felt the need to eat my feelings.  It worked fairly well, too.  I quit picking on myself, got some decent sleep, and am resolved to try again next month.  I do feel a bit bruised and weepy today, but I'm sure it'll be better soon.

@depression--I'm still not talking to you, so get lost.



  1. are not alone. Of course I wouldnt elaborate here, but that post just wreaks of familiarity to me. Thanks for sharing.

    1. Nice to know I'm not the only one :o) Thanks for the vote of solidarity. (Tho I hope we're both feeling better soon!)