The drop of a hat
Compulsions. Something I’m very familiar with. I’m lucky in that they tend to come and go, these waves of compulsion and lack of control. This one seems particularly rough. I am puffy, my skin is gray, I am mind-numbingly exhausted. There are lines, dimples, thoughts, old-time memories. New worries. Another round of breaking myself of habits, another round of seeking out a new crutch. Something to fill the void that isn’t loaded with calories, guilt, and fat.
I need help.