JUNK FOOD. VODKA. BUSINESS.

On July 26, 2011 I was a successful business woman. I had plenty of work, a great big beautiful house, gardens of flowers, and I had love.  I had everything I have ever wished for except more time and more of me.  This is what my life was like then…

sleep

Last night I finished my 12 hour work day with junk food and vodka. The pressure is starting to get to me and I feel myself turning inside out again. I do not know how to do this. I don’t know to be all the things I am expected to be without losing myself in the middle of it. There is no off switch and life just keeps coming at me. All I really want is for it to stop.

LEAVE ME ALONE!!! GO AWAY

and then….. I am sitting here, ALONE, wanting my phone to ring, terrified that it will. I feel guilty that I need to sleep. There is too much to do and I am BEHIND. It is like trying to run a race that you have already lost. I need to win this race; I am not the only one I am running for.

TICK TICK TICK

I write it all down in lists, the things I need to accomplish, the things I need to DO. I open the list just long enough to add to it, but I never go back to actually see everything that I have written. I don’t need to see it, I can feel it. I am sick from it. I’ve been sitting in this computer chair for almost 6 years now trying to make that feeling go away, trying to make that list smaller, trying to keep people HAPPY.

Are they Happy??? Did I make them HAPPY???

fat ass

When the stress starts to consume me I tell myself that I can only do my best, that there are only so many hours in the day. I try to forgive myself for always coming up short. Try is the optimal word. LIFE IS HARD, YOU BE HARDER. I TRY HARDER……….. I DO.

I start sleeping 4 hours instead of 6, and every now and then, I try to fool my body into thinking I am still young, and I don’t need sleep at all. I make my deadlines or if I fall short…. it’s not by much. They smile when they leave.

ARE THEY HAPPY??

It’s funny, THAT, is the question I ask myself, instead of, WAS IT WORTH IT? I hadn’t even thought of it until now. Is it worth it? I don’t really know, to be honest with you. I know that there is a price to be paid for everything and the price I am paying for this business is too high. It is killing me. I am Amy Whinehouse. I can’t stop taking more business, I need my business to live, just as sure as Amy Whinehouse needed her next fix. I need it for the love of creation and the hurt of starvation.

I ALSO NEED IT TO BE DIFFERENT.

I believe that it can be.

I do not need to let my art, or my business consume me. A good friend pointed out that Amy Whinehouse didn’t likely die sad. He imagines that she died happy, on too much of what she loves. I know that kind of love. I have that kind of love. It is easy to read this blog and jump to the conclusion that I am simply depressed. I don’t care what label you need to give me, because if I am not depressed, I should be.

THIS SHIT SUCKS!!! I have more work than I can get to and I had to borrow money for medicine and gas two months ago. There is something wrong with that. The price is too high. If I am giving everything I have to something and I can’t even swing money for gas.

THIS NEEDS TO BE DIFFERENT.

There is no guarantee that it will be.

I can be different and so begins the test. I have fallen into the same pattern year after year trying to make this business into what I wanted and needed it to be. I worked HARDER, investing every waking hour I had to build a better life for my family. I was making it happen too. I was making more money than I thought could be possible. Now I am borrowing money for gas and I have one pair of pants because I can’t afford to buy more. Yes, I should be depressed, but………… I DON’T HAVE TIME because I am Amy Whinehouse. I keep doing what I love until I can’t do anymore, and I am strangled by the clock, as it ticks.

This time will be different, I will make time for the gym, I will make time for me, I will get caught up, I will make them HAPPY! That is what I thought last night as I stuffed my face with junk food, and let the numb of the vodka slowly untie the knots that had been twisting my gut. This is a place I had been before.

CAN I BE DIFFERENT? 

 

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