I crave the days of innocence.

The days where I could act before thinking.

I crave the days of high self-esteem.

The days where I wasn't compared to her.

I crave the days of freedom.

The days where I didn't feel trapped.

I crave the days of company.

The days where I could express my emotions to others.

But most importantly,

I crave the days of happiness.

Soooo...I am a recovering stress eater. I do not have to be sad or angry, I handle stress very well. Well, how do I put this. I handle stress very well, I do not sweat when the heat is on and I stay calm cool and collected. I have grace under fire as my bosses have told me.

But see, in doing that, and this is coming from years of therapy...I put myself in an imbalance. If life were a teeter-totter, it would be weighted on one side, so I do something to balance it out...I eat. And boy can I eat.

My go to is not candy or salty chips...no it is the chip's cousin...

The golden, deep fried, seasoned with salt and pepper french fry...

I love the taste, the texture...crinkle cut preffered, and as I like my women, thick cut steak fries. With or without ketchup, bar-b-que sauce, or even hot sauce. I'd take as I could get them. Usually after a major incident at work happened and I walk people off of the ledge. Then I would take all of the stress that I endured and let it out...replacing it with my fries.

And as I am writing this, I wish I had a basket of them right now.

But I don't...I practice mindful eating and I try to look for other outlets when the stress hits. Or I look at the impulse to binge head on...foolishly, of course.

These days I win the majority of the time...sometimes I lose. Like everyting else, its no fun when I do, but then my basket is waiting for me...seasoned well...with no judgements...waiting to comfort me.

So, when I am upset I always crave Dunkin' Donuts donut holes. Nothing else. Sometimes I will get other things if donuts are unavailable, but this is always my go to. It's funny because this only happens when I'm in a slightly bad mood. If I am actually upset about something serious I won't feel like eating, so donuts are for the weird in-between times. For example, I got in a fight with my brother over who should pay for gas for our car the other day. We were friends again in about 2 minutes but I was craving donuts for the rest of the day.

When I'm sad

I act on i m p u l s e

shove food away like it's poison but

then I ache to be full of something

the rush from

chewing and s w a l l o w i n g (choking)

erases the emotions momentarily,

but my swollen belly brings it all back

I don't want the reality back

I don't want the mirror back (please don't tell it that)

I walk a tightrope

over a p r e c i p i c e

and leap to either side

just to see what it feels like

hoping it might

make me feel nothing? Something?

and

I

am

terrified.

I thought I had the answers in the bottom of my Rose bottle.

But it turns out that's not really what I'm craving at 2pm on a Friday, turning my thoughts towards an empty weekend in quarantine, alone.

I thought I had the answers in the copious amounts of food I was consuming.

But it turns out that's not what I'm craving at 1am on a Saturday morning, coping with the fact that quarantine or not, I am probably going to end up alone.

I thought I needed time, then, to absolve my pain, but really, turning my mind towards the nothingness that is isolation,

it makes me numb, and I

crave a numbness above all other cravings,

all of my other real and imagined desires, or miseries.

As my burdens engulf me, there is only one thing I desire. There is only one thing I crave. Through the suffocation of emotions and transformation of my tenderness to weakness, I see my ticket out in the distance.

Sometimes I like to imagine I am close enough to touch my saving grace, though I could never kid myself. I’m stuck. The tears are ropes around my arms and legs, preventing me from moving towards recovery. The thoughts are iron bars, locking me into a cage with deadly weapons aiming at my temples.

Although, sometimes... Just sometimes... I like to think of freedom. It can be consoling to think of a place where your problems are just pigments of imagination.

However, if I look at the light too long, I lose sight of where I am and need to use my ropes to guide me back home.

Sometimes I think of freedom. Sometimes I crave freedom. Sometimes I beg for freedom.

Every time I crave freedom, I freefall deeper into sorrow.

A wish I had or wish I will

Jumps my body when I am ill.

A good poem in my head or one on my mind

Takes over my soul and all of mankind.

I love to draw or illustrate if I’m writing a book.

Salisbury steak. mash potatoes and greens are what I cook.

My favorite craft is making t-shirts for my daughter.

Mad is making slime with my grandchildren out of water.

No slime in the house is rule number one,

but it never stops us from having loads of fun.

So when I’m upset and feeling sort of down.

I let my brain do the talking before my stomach starts to frown.

I think I'm very emotionally...resistant? stable? stagnant? I don't feel very stong emotions on a regular basis. I stay pretty resigned to my environment generally speaking. So, when my emotions are out of balance, I actually want to prolong that moment and really savor it, soak it in, and memorize what it feels like for those instances when I know I should be having a reaction but simply don't feel it. And I like to capture these moments in writing.

When someone has pissed me off, in the moment all I want to do is listen to what they're saying, witness what they're doing, and let them communicate with me what they need to communicate. I'll probably throw in some smartass comments while they're at it, but I'm really one to wait for my turn. Arguments, confrontations, talking about issues, I don't really get very emotional in the moment itself, but once I feel myself moving out of the indifferent stasis, I try to funnel it into some words.

And I can use some pretty strong ones, sure, but I throw those around like daisies on the regular. What really captures an emotional moment for me is really precise, visceral, incisive diction that just documents the intensity and the detail so well. When I get sad, I'll cry for five minutes or something but after that oh christ I'll be pen and paper for the next two hours. When I get excited or scared, I'll do the same thing, but usually in a social media post or a Snap. I think images are really useful (and comical) for those two emotions especially.

And unfortunately, I've learned to really cherish these emotional moments because all the best writing has stemmed from my journal of emotions, or whatever. Most days, I'm lukewarm and I don't write very much, and I don't write very well. It's perfectly fine for school and all that, but when I want to submit something to somewhere, or impress a writer friend, I have to reach into my archives, brush up documents from months ago, and sometimes craft the entire context around a snapshot if I want any of my talent to be on display. It's not the worst thing, but it'd be nice if I had better control over my own skills. There's just something about the unbridled, raw, emotional energy I can put into words in those moments that I can't fabricate or recreate as separate in any other moment. And when I feel something, I feel the need to trap it in words. It seems to be the only way I've come to understand them (and make use of them).