stepping on the scale—now, and, completely at odds with myself; how i pined, how i longed for my one true love! how i longed for a life that didn’t make me feel like such an idiot—or a general, scorching the earth. what if i could turn to someone at the end of the day, instead of living for food—pizza, on this occasion; i can’t eat three pieces anymore without gaining weight, or can i? I’m always thinking i can, since three pieces seems like a reasonable amount, especially when you could have four or five, but i’m always wrong—it gets me every time. getting older, then—my metabolism is slowing down, leaving me at a loss; i’ll stay home with the kids live a longer life while my body is transformed into light.
of course the love i shared (at present) was entirely sufficient—but i wanted a bond with someone in my age range—someone young and pretty but old enough to be with some one that, to many, leads a complicated life. now, i know what you’re thinking: we describe people as complicated when we can’t explain why they behave the way they do—as if what they’re doing, on some level, is bad. It’s confusing because that person could do a lot of good, too—but, ultimately, they were an actor, and they’d suffer more—wouldn’t they—if, indeed, they were doing something bad? i didn’t want to suffer. I couldn’t uncomplicate my life—all i could do was try and make myself understood; then people would see the same person i see—when i look in the mirror and think to myself: this is testimony of another day.
but where were we? ah, yes, i’m fighting a losing battle with my weight—it’s gotten about five pounds out of control—and, ideally, i would lose ten pounds. but that was proving to be exceedingly hard to do—and here i was: i didn’t want to be the party pooper—but maybe i needed to think about food in a similar way to the way i think about dinking alcohol or coffee. Maybe it’s the people around you that are the problem. You pretty much have to start over when you’re drinking—you can’t be friends with anybody that chooses to hurt themselves—and by extension, others; you have to change your whole life philosophy. You have to go back to the person you were before you started drinking—and accept that person.
so, what? can i help it if i love to eat? i think i can! I’ll just concentrate even more on telepathic communications—and my link to both the past and the future. i’d make the changes in my life and work that i needed to make if i was going to quit stuffing myself beyond full. but there was more—i think i needed to stop weighing myself all the time—i needed to stop monitoring my weight, all the time, chastising myself and thereby punishing myself when I know i live a modest life—fruit for lunch, for example. As long as I was eating fruit for lunch, then stepping on the scale all the time was just a way of trying to be something that i’m not. so maybe i’m supposed to be a loveable bear as opposed to a mountain lion.
i liked crossing my legs, though, and i couldn’t do that if i kept gaining weight. so i had to do something—and that something, i think, might mean breaking up with my scale—since, of late, the procedure, and my response to the scale, had been to lose a pound and then overeat and gain a pound or two back. maybe if i felt better about myself—that’s what i’m really saying—then i wouldn’t be compelled to eat so much at the end of the day (i did eat breakfast, but my parents wouldn’t let me stop doing that, and, besides, i didn’t want to get hungry and start thinking about appetite suppressants (cigarettes and coffee) that used to keep me thin and functioning in the past.
but what, alas, did all this mean? perhaps in thinking that most people are pigs, i should think of them as bears that are supposed to be twenty to forty pounds overweight. Then, in being less hard on them, i might be less hard on myself and vice versa, which could mean that i could be even happier than I am right now. you can’t always be happier than you are—so, when such things present themselves, it is best to opt in. ok, then—in the same way that i quit checking my physics papers online all the time to see if anybody new had downloaded any of them, i was going to accept myself as a person that did not let the scale have complete and total control over their life. i’d discipline myself if my belt got too tight, and i’d back off a little if my belt was a little loose.
this was kind of a big deal. it would be a significant change in how i started my day, every day. That could only mean good things when it comes to telepathic communications—i was making a reasonable, positive change. so what other worlds out there had i been denying by focusing so much energy on my weight? what would move in and fill in that space? I had started using a four count inhale and exhale more, so, i was reclaiming the parts of myself that i suppressed when my thoughts betrayed me—when schizophrenia developed and left me unable to do anything. would this be a change like recognizing that telepathic communications come from your mind’s ear in you brain—as opposed to sounding things out down in your throat? Would i grow closer or apart from Ursula? perhaps i’d stay with Ursula, but my understanding of her would change and make us closer when I took better care of myself.