Emotion

Emotions suck!

This was me yesterday.

Here's what happened in my world.

A few months ago, I sent an email off to my in-laws asking them to help me give my husband a wonderful, stress free birthday. There was a trip planned and a stressed out husband and a troubled marriage. It was just a messy time for us. Details not important. Anyway, the email I had intended to be an emotional request to do something very selfless for my husband ended up severely upsetting the in-laws. One thing led to another and we're now 5 months later, no communicado.

I've been feeling unwelcome and misunderstood. Hubby has been feeling very confused and frustrated. Who knows what in-laws are feeling. We've been pretty much waiting for a green light to go take care of what WAS nothing more than a simple misunderstanding and now appears to be a full fledged emotional vendetta. Hubby requested the green light and was met with a bigger, louder red light-siren combo.

So yesterday, hubby got an email with the flashing red light and siren a screamin'. Basically, our worst fears were realized. What we thought might be happening in the dark but weren't able to know for sure was confirmed. Hubby is feeling every emotion under the sun, I'm sure. I'm feeling all the same feelings I've been through before with my own blood family (who have not been in my life for about 8 years now). It's one thing to never fit in with one family but then find out that when you thought you fit in with another but you don't....hurts like hell.

What's a girl to do?

That's right. A little bit of tequila to calm the nerves. Well, apparently I'm becoming a little more sensative to this type of beverage because what use to do nothing to me, got me a little buzzed.

Here's just how pathetic I was. Home alone. Tequila. Chips and salsa. Almond butter and jelly. Biggest Loser. Yup. That was me. The master plan was a shot of tequila just to chill out and relax a bit before heading off to kickboxing class. I got that tequila in me and the result was no dinner as planned, no kickboxing. My ass was stuck firmly on the couch munching on my dinner of chips and salsa while watching the biggest loser.

Bad decisions. I didn't just dive head first into the fridge, nor did I get any exercise doing laps between the fridge and the pantry. I guess that's good. It's progress. Yes, I made an emotional decision to pull out the Patrone. And I made another one to pull out the chips and salsa instead of making my dinner as planned. But that was it.

Today, I'm just a little disappointed in myself because I did not tell my accountabilibuddy about how I was feeling yesterday nor did I ask for help. I'm NOT, I repeat NOT beating myself up about it. I just feel the need to fess up to the land of blogz. I'm no freakin' saint. I screw the pooch every once in a while. I'm human too. I woke up feeling better. I'm feeling hopeful. As I type this with my frozen fingers, I look out my window to the bright blue sky and the sunshine reflecting off the icy parking lot with hope in my mind and love in my heart.

Today is a good day. Hubby made me a cappuccino this morning. I ate my steel cut oats and currants for breakfast. I've got some yummy homemade split pea soup with ham for lunch and a banana and mozarella for a snack. My bag is packed and I'm cocked and ready to sweat out the emotional retardation (as I said it to my accountabilibuddy this morning) at the gym. My wise and wonderful accountabilibuddy responded with this: "Remember what good athletes say "sucess is determined by how you recover"."