Ugh

I've let myself go.

Oh boy, have I let myself go.

In fact, I've gone, come back, and left again.  Go, go, go.  Going, going...GONE!

I'm wearing years of 'another birthday fat,' 'disappointment with life fat,' 'i don't have a full time job fat,' 'ouch fat (A.K.A. 'what is that pain - i can't walk fat'),' 'what the eff has happened to my life fat,' 'eat because i want to mask the pain of reality fat,' 'why is my bladder doing that fat,' 'why didn't i recognize that was God's sign fat.' 

You name it, the fat stopped here.

Well, after eleven years of trying, falling, re-inventing, getting back up and trying again, following the trends and trying, and falling, and getting back up once more, I finally found a full time job.  Or rather, the job found me - but either way, that's a BIG "thank you," God.

No, this is not me feeling sorry for myself, it's just the unbridled realization that I am so behind an eight ball with my name written on it...bedazzled in Liberace-style rhinestones.  Like a disco ball of ugh - swinging wrecking ball-like through my life - and I have a tracking device brilliantly embedded somewhere so that I cannot duck or hide, no matter how hard I work to improve things.

How do I make myself un-go?

Is there a way to undo the damage and get back to a good place, or do I just have to start all over again from here?  Really...from here?  Right here?  Really!?

Well, I suppose there are only truly two choices then, eh.  Keep loving the chocolate and potato chips, and all of the other bad things which taste so good and make me feel better, or confront those things that hold me back, make me feel scared and incapable and unworthy.

OK, this is me telling them to get the bleep outta my way!

But just in case, does anyone have a bag of bread crumbs I can use?