State of mind: the good, bad & ugly

So… <insert long awkward pause here>.

I’ve been unsure about writing this post. I’ve not written as much over recent weeks as I’ve struggled to write anything but sarcastic rants or book reviews, lest my real state of mind infiltrate my writing.

I’ve been sick. And we all know EVERYTHING is worse when you’re sick. Two weeks of endless coughing, bloody phlegm (yes, literally), sore throat, fever etc. I’ve whinge-tweeted although I’ve tried not to as – like everyone – I hate those who only ever whinge tweet. #poorme

Plus of course I know I’ll soon feel better and there are a gazillion of others out there with illnesses from which they will never recover.

I used to write about more personal stuff. Once upon a time. Now however, my blog appears as a link on business cards and I’m more conscious about what I write and who might read it. Nevertheless… I miss the days I could be honest, so this is a mass sharing of stuff I’ve drafted in a half a dozen different posts over the last month or two. (And I’m unlinking it from FB and my LinkedIn account – for obvious reasons!)

The ugly

Since turning 70 my mother talks more about death. She comments on the number of people who die in their 70s. Indeed, she’s outlived both of her parents. As a religious person she’s quite zen about death. I – on the other hand – make it all about myself: wondering what becomes of me after her death. I’ll have no one. Nothing. The meaning-of-life/midlife crisis comes crashing down around me. What difference have I made? What mark have I left? (#Spoileralert… the answer’s none – no children, no family, no lasting legacy).

My eating is out of control. Part of it is illness related. I can’t taste anything so have been existing on junk food. Yesterday alone I ate only chocolate and packets of chips. Worst of all – the chips weren’t gluten-free. As a coeliac I’ve explained that eating gluten is akin to poisoning myself. Twice in recent days I’ve purposely bought non-GF bags of chips to eat. (Bizarrely although a GF hashbrown fried with non GF products can keep me in the bathroom all afternoon, Cheese & Onion and Sour Cream & Chives chips had no effect other than to make me very sleepy.)

Since I quit Weight Watchers I’ve steadily gained weight. In moments of panic I decide I’ll adopt all sorts of desperate measures. Then daylight comes and all I really want to do is binge-eat. I feel really bloated, unhealthy and unfit. It’s not even about body image and self-hate now… just despair.

The bad

From: johnbalaya.com

Being sick sucks. But – like I said… I know I’ve got to be grateful it’s temporary and – unlike others with chronic illnesses – I will recover. But at the moment I’ve kinda forgotten what it’s like to feel well.

Work. I’m still undecided about my working future. I don’t think I have the confidence or stamina to create my own business and work for myself. I’m not even sure it’s what I want. I’ve said it before – I kinda know what I don’t want, but I’m not yet sure what I do want.

Existential crisis (above) aside, the only thing I really stress about in my life is work and money (which I do realise is an issue for everyone).

The good

Life could be worse. Much worse. I’m basically debt free and – to others anyway – live a seemingly fortunate life. Which is true. Mostly. My brother recently asked my mother if I had regrets about my seachange and she could tell him I didn’t. My recent visitor asked the same thing. Same answer. My day-t0-day life is basically good. If only I could get the bad and the ugly sorted.

I did this backwards for obvious reasons – ending on a high note. I’m also closing comments cos I know this is (essentially) self-indulgent drivel. I did however feel compelled to be honest for a change rather than continue to write cheery “LIFE IS WONDERFUL!” posts. I suspect (if comments were open) people would say positive and supportive things; tell me to get a grip and not feel sorry for myself; or suggest I seek therapy. And none of those suggestions are new.

* Am linking with Essentially Jess for IBOT.
(And… I intend to work on some strategies before sharing my next far-too-blunt #poorme post cos I do know that I have to help myself!)