I am officially stress-eating. I believe it’s because of my N.D.E. and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder related to it. (I am a sensitive soul.) I impulsively picked up a bag of English Toffee on the way in the grocery store this morning, and had the entire bag finished by checkout. I did pay for the bag, post-humus-ly. I don’t actually know if you are officially allowed to eat food before you’ve paid. Maybe it’s illegal according to the Grocery Store Bylaws or something. But nonetheless, I did do that, and no security guards roughed me up or cuffed me or anything. Maybe they could tell I was feeling tense and felt sorry for me.
But it gets worse. On the drive home from the grocery store, I tore into the bag of cheetos and ate several handfuls. And this was all before 9:00 in the morning. A half a pound of English Toffee and 23 cheetos! Not exactly the “Breakfast of Champions.” But at least I’m not slugging down vodka.
I’ve never been one to turn to food for comfort. If I need soothing, I will usually call a friend. Chocolate is not my friend, it is a mid-afternoon treat. Not a Grocery Shopping Companion. Until today. English Toffee and Cheetos were my pals. One provided love; the other, solace. Temporarily I felt filled up and didn’t have to feel my fear of the unknown, as I traveled back through the icy roads.
Then I drank two cups of green tea, in hopes that the antioxidants would cancel out all the chemicals. But what it didn’t do was cancel out the assurance that life is uncertain; that we never know what is around the corner.
“I stand amid the roar of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand, grains of golden sand-
How few! Yet how they creep through my fingers to the deep, While I weep- while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp them with a tighter clasp?
O God! Can I not save one from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem, but a dream within a dream?” (Edgar Allen Poe)
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3 comments:
Hmmm.... Any late night cravings for pickles and icecream? Just kidding!!!
Love the Poe inclusion - you'll be great in a couple days, I'll bet! Mr. Poe offered a tiny kindess with the pain, "Take this kiss upon the brow!"
Go get a hug from Super Hubs!
Sonnet 73 by Wm. Shakespeare
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
Ah, Shakespeare. Those poets get it! As Thornton Wilder said, "Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? Every minute? No, the Saints and the Poets, maybe they do some."
I was searching for a poem by Locke, I thought I remembered, but wasn't able to find it? I just had a vague idea that I read one once that would meet the requirement. The ones I did find, did not seem to have the right tone or indeed offer the comfort I find in good ole 73. I think the Beatles were only half right. All you need is not love, but that's the only thing that will follow/matter in the eternal picture.
Hang in there, Kelly. God bless.
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