When I put thought into my current state of existence, it sickens me. The crumbling infrastructure of my life should be cause for great concern, yet all I care about is being noticed at a distance.
I bought my new car last October, doubling my car payment and increasing my insurance. Despite all the compliments and looks my modest but sweet car get, the rush is only temporary and truth becomes obvious.
If people notice my car then maybe I’m going to fit in and be liked. Never do I seem to fully fit in anywhere I go and people usually like me. I’m the one who dislikes me.
The self sabotage express rides again, with me at the helm. While I ignore the dentist, doctor and a needed visit to a therapist my life gets more subverted and complicated. With few friends, no voices state concern, no one is appalled with my limitless approval seeking. The questioning left to me, the worst judge of my own well being possible.
Knowing what’s right, then acting right are miles apart. Fear is running my life, and I have let it run rampant over my sense. There’s hope, only if I admit defeat and sell that car. Perhaps that’s too drastic, maybe these troubles have me addicted to their circumstance and drama. Then again maybe this life is the colossal calamity it seems.