Not Myself

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I’m not feeling myself today.

I feel burdened, weighty.

My thoughts are cloudy.

My shoulders easily slump, and with them, my spirits.

I leaned into the vulnerability and told him: I’m not feeling myself today.

Ok.  I hope it gets better. 

I’m retreating within myself and I’m not sure why.  Perhaps comments recently made are weighing heavy upon me.  Perhaps it’s a feeling of disconnect from my sponsor, and therefore from active recovery.  Perhaps it’s a lack of sleep.

Last night, I shared with him a comment made by a mutual friend.  She wants to meet for lunch next week.

Yes! Yes, let’s do it, she said.  I need some fat food.

Fat food?, he asked.  Why do people look at you and think fat food?

I’m not saying that they do, I replied.  But she made a comment that she had lost weight since she’s been home with a broken leg.  She said she was 115 pounds and is now 105.  

I laughed derisively.

105 is waif-like.  115 can’t be much better, I continued.

So, you need to break your leg, he said.

I looked at him, my eyes sharp.

What? It’s just a statement, he defended. Stop being so judgmental. 

It’s just a statement.  A joke.  Not unlike the comment my coworker made this week about how I always sound like a 5-year old, asking questions.

Or the remark my boyfriend made this morning alluding to his inability to escape our relationship.

You can go, if you’d like, I’d said.

I’m tired–at a deep level.

My inclination is to shrink within myself.  To grow quiet, pensive.  My mood is obvious to all.  I cannot hide it.

I’m not feeling myself, I tell others.

I’m feeling empty.  I’m feeling resentful.  I’m feeling lonely.

This will pass, my inner wise voice tells me.  One foot in front of the other.  One moment at at time.  What is the next healthy thing you can do?

Just breathe today.  Just breathe.

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