Here I sit, once again, wondering what the fuck is wrong with me. I sit amongst a mound of crap like candy wrappers, take out containers, pop bottles, glasses, cleaning solutions, loose change, q-tips, and other crap. I have to move some of it out of the way so that I can use my mouse. I am not a pack rat with little paths through the house. I just have a bloody hard time keeping things tidy. And it really seriously wears on me and drains me.
I don’t get it. Why, if something bothers me so much, and it really does, why would I keep piling stuff up when there is a garbage can so close to me that it’s almost touching my leg?
Why, night after night, do I feel this un-ignorable compulsion to go to the store and buy hundreds of dollars worth of candy and junk food a month? I feel like a drug addict. I go to different stores so that no one will know my dark little secret. I come home with shopping bags of junk food and hide down in my little basement suit alone with my secret and I eat and eat and eat.
I don’t get it. Why do I keep doing things that I hate? I don’t understand. I’ve stopped going for my walks in the evening, my work clothes are getting tight.
When I eat properly, keep my home tidy and get some exercise I feel great. So why don’t I do it? I know I keep saying this, but I don’t understand. I don’t get why I’m doing things I hate and that make me feel like shit, when I could be doing things I like and make me feed good.
I know all the things to do. I know about making simple, easy to make, healthy meals. I know about tidying as I go and doing a little end of the day tidy before bed. It’s like my brain is fucked or something. If I know these things, why don’t I do them?
I don’t know what to do.