After a fight with my mother I have: cried on my bathroom floor for an hour, refused to sit up because it made me feel fat, eaten six slices of pizza, watched an hour of Chuck, attempted to get my flirt on and made myself throw up the aforementioned slices of pizza.
I hate days like today when I realize that a normal life probably isn't in the cards for me. I hate second guessing all of my life's plans because I'm not sure if I can achieve them with these breakdowns. I hate wondering if I should warn The Boy off now because he can't possibly want to be with someone as screwed up as I am. And I hate that it's going to be so hard to get in a car with my mother on Thursday to drive to Maryland when all I should be focusing on is the memorial service for my aunt.
I hate living like this. But I don't see anything changing long term. And that makes me feel completely hopeless.
I wish I had gratitude to offer today, and I'm sure, at one point, I did. But I can't put my finger on it right now, so all I want to do is work out and go to sleep. Maybe I can forget this ever happened.
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