Hello, all! I have technically failed the April writing challenges already, since I didn’t write yesterday. But you know what? We are not going to worry about that. Not a thing we can do to turn back time, so might as well move forward from here. I was going to try to catch up by combining this entry into a C post AND a D post but I decided it was too late at night for that. My C topics are cats, candy, and crying.
About the cats. We have three. Yes, I know for most people that is three too many, but hey, I know someone who has NINE cats. Anyway, I don’t love them and I don’t necessarily hate them. I just hate the consequences of having them in my life. When the kids don’t clean out the litter box, my house smells. They have literally destroyed the carpet under every single door in this house by scratching to get into or out of rooms with shut doors. And they have also destroyed my couch. I mean, granted, that thing is on its third owner. But it would still be in better shape if we didn’t have cats.
Candy is just something there is no longer any of, left in my house. My family had their Easter celebrations late because my parents were out of town until this past weekend. My mom made baskets for everyone and there was quite a lot of candy to be had around here. This is, of course, a bad thing, because where there is candy, I will, of course, eat it. I have been engaging in a fierce battle with myself lately about eating and food and weight and self esteem, and I am losing that battle in spectacular fashion: I eat, I gain weight, I utterly loathe myself and everything about me. This is a bad thing, and I know it. I know I am supposed to believe that people are beautiful no matter what size they are. I am supposed to remember that sexy is an attitude. And I am supposed to know without a doubt that the most important part of any person is NOT what you see on the scale or in the mirror. I can’t do that and I don’t know why. I can’t believe or remember or know. I wish I could. I’m working on it.
Which leads me to the final topic, crying. I have done a lot of that lately and I know it hasn’t done me a bit of good. I just have to throw off my pity party hat and throw on my “I have done this before and I can do it again” hat. Yes, it sucks royally to have to re-lose weight you have already lost once, to fight yet again a battle you have fought over and over before. I don’t know what the secret is, but if I figure it out, I will be sure to pass it on.
And now, my C poem:
Catch me if you can
as I fall into a river of tears.
i shed them.
They come in a downpour
and rise high enough to sink ships.
My sunglasses sit on my face.
I’d like to think they hide my eyes
my eyes are seen behind them
as the tears seep out from underneath.
Until next time,