That is the operative word. And my comfort remedy is generally food, booze or shopping. I'm not one who turns to healthy means to comfort myself. I admit it.
We have no money, so shopping is out of the question. Although I've window shopped in nearly every thrift store within a ten-mile radius. I just haven't purchased anything. Well, I did pick up a 25 cent cookbook. Whoopie.
I haven't drank much because my calories don't allow, and only to add to the mix, I have stomach problems (aggravated by the stress, which alcohol and caffeine only make the tummy worse...). My doctor gave me Xanax for when my anxiety is through the roof (which has been daily), but I'm partially too chicken to take it because I fear being addicted. She also gave me a script for Zoloft, which I'm also not wanting to take (I don't want the side-effects, withdrawl and I don't want to give up having a glass of wine or beer sometimes).
So God's really working me, eh? My load is heavy, my family stress is through the roof (dealing with an adult child who has real "issues"). All of my cooping mechanisms are are basically gone right now. I have to figure out how I'm going to work though all of this. So far, it appears the same way I've limped through the last 18 months of my life - day by miserable day, grasping onto what is good. It hasn't been easy.
I don't really have any friends, not the kind that you immediately call when life is stressful, and get instant relief in the sound of their voice. No. Seriously, all of my friends have their own baggage. So it's almost a chore to call them; because I'm a "good listener" I end up sitting on the phone listening to them babble on about their husbands, kids, work and messy houses. It doesn't help. It really doesn't. My mom is wrapped up in the same stuff that is going on with my daughter (and she also has one foot in the river called DeNial), so that's not helpful. My husband is my husband. I love him, but there's strain there too. I end up resenting him because I carry the burdens of stress (mostly worrying about the finances).
I feel like I've nowhere to go and the walls are caving in on me. I wish I could eat it away, but not having my clothes fit would only add to my state of misery. I know this. I guess that's a step in the right direction.
So I type it out in my fatblog. Great. Lucky you. Lucky world.
I'm going to go take it on. Enjoy yours.