Yesterday in an effort to distract myself from the shit going on at the moment I put aside my ‘Long and lean size fourteen’ mantra and replaced it momentarily with ‘Chunky thighs and curly fries’.
In true old me fashion, I wanted to dive head first into a vat of greasy food and not come up for air to squash the horrid feelings that I found myself dealing with. Sadly the universe was conspiring against me as there were no curly fries to be found on campus so I had to settle for a croissant. The stress of the situation soon joined in the fight against my desire to remain a fatty and I found myself head in the toilet bowl vomming it back up again shortly after. Never one to be deterred from my quest to punish myself in unsuitable ways I tried again to have a right good binge last night, and found myself spewing it all back into a handily placed carrier bag as I didn’t make it to the bathroom in time. It became clear that food was not going to work. Feeling rough enough from all the tears I didn’t want to crack open a bottle of wine and plough my way through it alone, personally, that’s a surefire way to score myself a one way trip to the funny farm.
So I got busy with the fizzy, downloaded photoshop and let loose on my blog for a redesign. I know jack shit about HTML and all that jazz and my pet geek CG was busy so it certainly kept me busy trying to work out what the chuff to do. Once I got into my stride I got a wicked sense of accomplishment, far greater than the hideous fat ugly failure feelings I would have had if I’d succeeded in stuffing my face.
Tonight to keep up the ‘keeping busy no time to think’ schtick I went and met PG at our new local. A local pub for local people, we stuck out like sore thumbs. I was the only woman in there for starters and we were the only people not listening to dance music through our tinny mobile phones. Setting aside it was a really nice evening, a little bit awkward to begin with as I tried to work out whether or not I could cope with hearing about his amazing new friends and his amazing new house and his amazing new life (without me). That soon passed though and before I knew it, my God, what’s that? An actual conversation? Sure as shit, before long we were chatting and bantering like the good old days. In fact I learnt more about his life this evening in a couple of hours than he shared with me all year that we lived in that flat and it was a brilliant tonic.
Yes, the situation with the person who hurt me is still there and it doesn’t show any sign of resolution but I’ve been bowled over by the love and kindness I’ve been shown. The texts, tweets, emails and voicemails, from old friends, from newer friends and from people I’ve never met and in some cases never spoken to before have knocked me for six in a really positive way. Thank you, every single one of you for taking time to reach out to me, the slightly deranged verbose chick with the blog.