I am trapped.  I am trapped in my depression and my anxiety.  I am trapped in this fat body, this body that is not old but has old parts.  I am trapped with fibromyalgia and degenerative disc disease.  I am trapped in self-loathing and self-pity.  I am trapped in loneliness and bitterness.  I am trapped by a broken heart and a broken spirit. I am trapped in this idea I have of myself and I am tired of it.

I was abused.  I was broken. I was scared.  I lost control, and then realized I had none to begin with. I want to shout to the new people in my life “THIS IS NOT ME!!” This is not who I used to be, this is not who I am.  I want to take people aside and whisper to them that I am funny, that I am loyal, that I am strong, and that I am healthy both physically and mentally.  However, those are lies.  That is not who I am right now.  Right now, I am a mixture of high-strung self-doubt, anxiety, depression and two years of weight gain.  And yes, perhaps the weight gain is not the most important, but it IS a physical symbol of the hell I have been through and is a daily reminder that I lost myself.

I lost myself.

Fuck, that isn’t even true… I gave myself away. I gave myself to someone because I did not know how to love myself through a divorce and the failure of losing my home.  I gave in and gave it all away.  And from that moment it has been a constant struggle to discover who I really am anymore.  So, for today, and only today, I want to share who I am.  I want to be honest and real and raw all in selfish hopes that from today on I can transform… I can find all of me again, not just the parts that have struggled to the surface.

In order to be free from this prison I have got to tell my story. My truths as they stand RIGHT NOW. Not then, not tomorrow, but right now.

I am 40lbs overweight.  I am no longer the kickboxer with the 30-inch waist.  I am technically obese and cannot will the weight away as I did in my twenties.  I am physically ashamed of my body and myself.  I know all of the reasons I put weight on, but those reasons no longer apply.

I am in depression.  Logically I have no reason to be in depression, but my PTSD keeps sneaking in and attacking me in the worst ways and in the most vulnerable places.  I need medication and the medication I am on now is no longer working.

I feel crazy.  I know that I am not, but I feel like I am. I am in a constant fog, unable to manage the daily routines it takes for an adult to survive in this world (read: shower), and it is embarrassing sometimes.  I find myself embarrassed with the state of my mental health, not because I have issues, but because I do not have them under control.

And there you have it, a general idea of what is going on here.  The Shattering came in and has me hostage…. And yet I’m faking my way through life until I can feel it again.

I have no answers. Not yet…. but I am working on it.