Karin Nelson

Yes, there we have it: yet another reason to overeat. I’ve been through hours and hours of therapy, through pills and prescriptions to stay calm and relaxed, and nothing helps, and it’s worse now because I am not eating crap anymore all day long. Before, when I had a problem, I’d grab the bag of chips or a chocolate bar and the world was ok again. Now, I don’t have the food anymore that I can simply run to. Food’s gone, and my troubles are big and strong, and back.

There is a problem that’s been bugging me and it’s big, in my eyes. It depends on how you look at it, I guess. For me, it’s definitively big. It’s heart-thumping big, wanna-jump big, so big it will interfere with my days, my nights, my life. It is something I have tried to change, and I have failed, because it is not in my hands anymore. Now would be the time to say: “I can’t change it, although I tried. I should accept the facts and move on.” I can’t. My property is involved, and with it, my freedom and my persona. Someone is doing something to my property that I don’t like, and I feel violated. It’s nothing serious, it’s no real damage, it’s only annoying. The most annoying thing about it is probably the fact that I am not able to make it stop, unless I will spend a couple of thousand dollars to put up a fence.

The reason I’m writing this tonight is that I want to stop worrying about it. I want to promise myself that I will not worry about it anymore. I want it to be a small nuisance, as little and as insignificant as it is to my husband. I want it to disappear beneath my other problems, which are far more important and far more worrysome than this little SHIT. I want it to be IN PERSPECTIVE. The problem is: how am I going to manage to get over it by myself, when counsellors and psychiatrists, Paxil and Xanax have failed?

Ok, I am giving myself (and you, who are reading this) the promise that I will NOT overreact anymore. I will not sit by the window, expecting to see the problem arise. I will not spend my evening pondering about other ways how to deal with the problem. I will simply forget it’s there. I will put it in the correct perspective – at the very bottom of my pile of problems, about work, health, and money. These are real problems that have to be dealt with, not some stupid chickenshit. (Pardon my French). So what, if it happens? I don’t care. It’s nothing. It’s irrelevant, unimportant, chickenshit. C-H-I-C-K-E-N-S-H-I-T. There. Now I feel better.

No. I don’t.