Things are Better on A Full Stomach

 Well I came up here at 4p to write about how giddy I was.

Good things

- I bit the bullet and bought the $8 Popeye's chicken sandwich meal deal. Def not worth $8 but spending money was supposed to induce feelings of a Not Bummer Summer. It worked momentarily. I couldn't keep laying on the couch feeling sorry for myself.

Not so great things

- I just gave in to the Devil's beckoning. I messaged the Other Overachiever in a self-destructive swoop. She was actually fun to chat with. Against my wayyy better judgement, she did indulge me a bit as I went on and on about My manager and the weird stuff. She was a bit relentless when I tried to dodge her question about what I thought was weird. So I gave in and spilled my guts. I didn't regret it then, but I regret it now.  I feel like a dumb dumb. I don't like standing up for myself, it sucks. I'm so bad at sharing feelings. I always regret it.  This truth telling and sharing feelings is sucky.

It should probably be a trusted contact instead of isolated events. When will I stop being in these emotionally desperate places!!

You don't always have to ask, MERJ. Trust yourself! Trust your instincts!! Even if you get it a little bit wrong, you're mostly right! I never know what's worse - wanting to do this self-destructive thing sooo bad that it consumes you OR doing the self-destructive thing! 

What's the third choice. And just like that I feel like that sad little girl all over again. 

Anyway, to make a dumb situation worse, I sent a screenshot of the new employee now working under my Manager. I'm sure it's this grand display of how transition should be done. Cry me a river.

I just fed into the drama... I am not better than this, it seems.

Oh but it tasted so good to smear her name a little. It really did. 

I'd love to say this is the end. This is the end. This is the end! Remember how empowered I felt after the chat with my Maryland Aunty. I thought that would be the end. But I will play this broken record until the record player breaks. 

Honestly, I just don't think I have any more internal containers to hold pain. It just spills out of me. It's like an oil spill. It's toxic to everyone around me, but I can't hold onto it as well as I once could. Sorry, God. Sorry, world. There's no more whole pieces left. I can't carry any more burdens, it seems. I just don't have the resolve anymore. I'm tired of people hurting me. I just don't have it in me. I don't. 

I think that is one salient side effect of the shell of a person I am. I used to be tougher. Now more of the time, I just have these emotional swings that get out of control. Everything feels like the right thing. I swing left, I swing right.