And I'm back to eating alone.
My counselor said this was like the well-known frog in a beaker phenomenon- where the frog that's put into hot water will immediately jump out, but the one who is heated by degrees will cook to death. When I hear myself explain what I have been putting up with, I can't believe it. I don't know how to reconcile all this horrible shit with the genuine love I will always feel for both of them. And I can't complain about the good things, or even try to make them outweigh the bad, but they are there anyway. I miss those things horribly.
And it really doesn't matter what was good or bad because it's done.
I am living on two song fragments.
And I could liken you to a lot of things
But I always come around
'Cause in the end
I'm a sensible girl
I know the fiction of the fix
From the top you can see
So far into the distance
Look, it's downhill all the way from here
And getting there is quicker
Let go and you'll just slide
It shouldn't take more than a year
Then the little animal version of me jumps up here, panting and freaking out in reaction to my emotions boiling over. If only she'd react that way when my blood sugar was low, I'd have a service dog and could bring her everywhere with me.
For now I will turn on book radio, lay down with my little girl, and smell her warm popcorn feet. Wet dog and dog fart are not good smells, but warm dog is delightful. And calming.
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