Now

I’m nearly 44 years old and for as long as I can remember, I’ve been taking care of someone … my other siblings, my drunk friends, my kids, my disabled mother.  Always.  Somebody … and rarely myself.

I’ve let myself go. I’ve gained back 37 pounds of the 70 I had lost, but I can’t really force myself to care.  Why is that?

I think it’s because I’m tired.  Just tired of everything.  Tired of worrying.  Tired of feeling like I should be doing more.  Tired of worrying about what everyone thinks of my life.  Just tired.

So for now I’m not going to do anything.  No self help lessons.  No big changes.  Just me drinking boxed wine watching Lipstick Jungle and eating whatever the fuck I want to.

We’ll see how that works for a while … and if I get too big to fit through doorways then maybe I’ll care.  Maybe.

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