First off, thank you all for the kind words here and on Twitter. The shared anger and good wishes really do help keep me afloat. I hate that virtual hugs don't work, even on touch screens.
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I did in fact have a bottle of wine (and half a pear) instead of dinner the other night. I don't recommend this, regardless of how broken you think you want to be. Alcohol is a depressant, after all. Two downers do not make an upper.
I'm getting very tired of writing about depression and heartbreak and insecurity and worry. I'm becoming a downer myself. And while I feel nowhere near "done" with my current cocktail of less-than-pleasant emotions, I'm giving myself the rest of the night to mope around. After that, I have to Do Something. Even if it's just plan some healthy meals for the rest of the week and resume flossing.
The thing I can't seem to stop asking, over and over again, is: What am I supposed to learn from this?
Everything is an opportunity to learn something, but I can't imagine what this lesson might be. I wish God or the Universe or whomever would just come out and say, "Look, kid, here's the deal," and lay it out in some format that I could understand.
Meanwhile, through all the crashing whats—What the hell is happening? What's the lesson? What next?—I have vowed not to ask why. For every exploration into why things happened the way they did, there is a shaming because waiting to be uncovered. Why? Because of you. Because of something you did.
What seems all right. Why is just another opportunity to attack myself. And the answer to "Why me?" is almost always another question:
Why not me?