I just needed a little fix.
It started last Sunday. We were talking about it at Holiday Club. How I went through a phase of my life where I went through pounds of the stuff. I should have known better than to talk about it. Got me thinking about it, craving it, again.
I fought hard. I stuck to my guns and I fought that urge for almost seven days. I was doing good. I was keeping my nose clean and yet in the back of my mind, the nagging voice kept calling. "You know you want some... just a little fix...".
By the following Sunday afternoon I was worn down, exhausted from fighting the urge so I gave in. "I only need a little bit. Just to get rid of the craving, I'll get a little bit and then share with friends". I slipped on my shoes, all the while knowing what I was about to do was wrong. I knew I'd regret it. I knew I'd hate myself a little when I was done. But the craving was stronger than my pride. I pulled my hoodie over my head and grabbed my keys.
My heart raced in anticipation as I walked briskly towards my demise. "Just five more minutes and I'll have it, just pay the gal and keep moving, don't think about it too much, just go!"
I got home and put my sweat pants on and curled up on the couch with Oreo. I cut the top and peeled back the wrapping to reveal the golden, oatmeal color flecked with a darker, richer chocolate chips. My mouth waters; Nestle Tollhouse, how I've missed you.
I told myself I'd stop at 3 cookies worth. That was half a tube ago. I fell and I fell hard.
When all was said and done I'd eaten a whole tube in a 24 hour period. I'm not proud of myself, I'm not too hard on myself, but I have learned that I'll never be able to make my future children cookies. They'll never make it to the oven, and I have to stay clear of the stuff for good.
My name is Lindsey, and I'm a cookie dough addict.
Balls
September 18, 2012
September 7, 2012
One of those days, or five, or eight...
I'm having one of those days. I feel tired, stressed, sad, defeated, and all around crappy. This is (at least partially) because I will start my period tomorrow.
Once a month I feel like nothing in life is right. Once a month all the normal stresses and things I manage and juggle every day becomes too much and I crack. My mother usually gets the call. If it's not her, it's one of 3 girls I trust with my crazy. No matter who the lucky gal is, she knows I just need to vent, and that I know I'll pick myself out of this puddle of tears and lift the weight of the world once again in a matter of days. She knows I'm overly sensitive, overly reactive, and generally a pain in the ass. This once a month I am irritable, and weepy and ridiculous. I see it coming, I know why it's happening, and I always apologize for my overreactions even as they are occurring. But it happens.
I won't get in to my stress, my debt, my past, my future, or any of that. You have all that. You understand. I won't even try to justify this post, it's lack of logical flow, or it's purpose. It's purpose is because I feel like it and shut up!
So all the stress that is in my every day life is still here, but my sanity and ability to cope have left along with the lining of my uterus. All I can do is ride the wave of tears and blood. I try to manage the pain which is both emotional and physical; all during a time when my clothes are tighter, all I want to eat is chocolate and bread, and my body literally tears itself apart and flushes itself out. So pardon the hell out of me if, once a month, I yell at you a little, or cry my eyes out. And excuse me if my (not even as graphic as it actually feels) description of my life once a month has disturbed your delicate sensibilities. Man the fuck up and get me a cupcake!
I'm going back to crying now. I'll see you all in 5-8 days when my pants fit.
NOTE: This post does not discount the stresses in my life or any other woman's life. I want to make sure that the readers, especially the male readers, understand this. The reaction to stress and worries may be more exaggerated during this time, but the worries and stress are there all the time. So don't write a my words off by listening only to the emotions. Also don't think I'm going to jump off a building. I'll be fine.
Once a month I feel like nothing in life is right. Once a month all the normal stresses and things I manage and juggle every day becomes too much and I crack. My mother usually gets the call. If it's not her, it's one of 3 girls I trust with my crazy. No matter who the lucky gal is, she knows I just need to vent, and that I know I'll pick myself out of this puddle of tears and lift the weight of the world once again in a matter of days. She knows I'm overly sensitive, overly reactive, and generally a pain in the ass. This once a month I am irritable, and weepy and ridiculous. I see it coming, I know why it's happening, and I always apologize for my overreactions even as they are occurring. But it happens.
I won't get in to my stress, my debt, my past, my future, or any of that. You have all that. You understand. I won't even try to justify this post, it's lack of logical flow, or it's purpose. It's purpose is because I feel like it and shut up!
So all the stress that is in my every day life is still here, but my sanity and ability to cope have left along with the lining of my uterus. All I can do is ride the wave of tears and blood. I try to manage the pain which is both emotional and physical; all during a time when my clothes are tighter, all I want to eat is chocolate and bread, and my body literally tears itself apart and flushes itself out. So pardon the hell out of me if, once a month, I yell at you a little, or cry my eyes out. And excuse me if my (not even as graphic as it actually feels) description of my life once a month has disturbed your delicate sensibilities. Man the fuck up and get me a cupcake!
I'm going back to crying now. I'll see you all in 5-8 days when my pants fit.
NOTE: This post does not discount the stresses in my life or any other woman's life. I want to make sure that the readers, especially the male readers, understand this. The reaction to stress and worries may be more exaggerated during this time, but the worries and stress are there all the time. So don't write a my words off by listening only to the emotions. Also don't think I'm going to jump off a building. I'll be fine.
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