Artificial Sweetener

I think I am completely nuts. I have finally toppled over into real insanity. I am finally home watching Sex & The City season one, episode 9, trying to calm down, trying to slow down the beating of my heart. That show is a pacifier for me. How many times have I seen every episode of that show? This is after I extended my line of credit on one of my credit cards. I bought a pack of cigarettes and smoked a couple. I haven't smoked a cigarette sober in years. Even when I drink I can barely smoke one. But today, no problem. When I'm out drinking, I always think I want one until I have a drag and it makes me feel nauseaus. This smoking is after arriving home drenched, heart pounding with the shopping rush, hands shaking with the shopping rush, not knowing what to do first; do I try everything on again? Do I make something to eat? It is almost 11:00pm and I haven't eaten since noon. I forced myself to methodically hang up my wet coat in the bathroom then change into sweats, leave the bags at the door, wash my hands and make myself a grilled cheese and then park in front of the TV.

I had shopped and I shopped and I shopped. It was raining. I had an umbrella but didn't use it. I didn't care if I got wet. I didn't even feel the rain. I walked and I walked and I walked. I shopped until the stores closed. I bought two new bras. Now I am officially a 34D. New size so I guess I needed them? I bought silver and gold tights. I don't think I needed them. I also bought hot pink lace tights. I definitely didn't need them. I bought a couple of sweaters; one, a grey cashmere blend v-neck is almost identical to one I bought last week. What the fuck is wrong with me. I am veering off the deep end. And the music in the stores doesn't help. It's like they were all conspiring to keep me there by playing my music from my generation as if they knew we were their target shoppers, not that I needed the help; but I was happily singing along while unzipping my boots in the dressing room and pulling on black cordoroys. When the Cure is playing in the Gap, suddenly I wanted to stay there and needed new sweatpants and some thermal shirts and brown velvet shorts.

I couldn't get on the subway. I couldn't go home. I couldn't go home. I wanted to but I couldn't. I passed one F stop. I kept walking and I passed another. I couldn't go home as much as I was starving and drenched and carrying a lot of bags with a lot of stuff I don't need. Is this my rock bottom? Do I have that seasonal disorder? It is the shortest day of the year. Or was that yesterday? I don't know what to do. I don't know what's wrong. I feel like I need a shopping intervention. I feel so disgusting right now. I feel like I need to hide the bags from myself. But it's all my mess. It's all the hole of debt I keep digging myself deeper into. I was off the wagon for awhile and since that first pair of grey Paper, Denim & Cloth skinny jeans I've been back bingeing like crazy. And the Christmas season and Christmas shopping doesn't help. It's like one for you, one for me. One for you two for me. The madness must stop. I have the yoga. That's a great outlet. I have the writing. That's a great outlet. I have a job which keeps me busy during the day. What is missing? What is making me act out like this? I am giving myself December and then it's over. I know I will want something sassy for New Year's Eve and I will allow myself to purchase whatever that is. But the buck stops on January 1. Cold turkey. That's the only way I can do it. I can't be a sometime, as I need something shopper. I am either a shopping maniac or I don't go into stores and don't check my shopping websites and don't even window shop. I can't.

But again, what's the real problem behind this compulsion? Because it is a compulsion. I should be getting that rush from something else. But I don't want to. I remember quitting my staff attorney job at the big firm to work at the criminal defense firm; a move I did for love. My staff attorney job was higher paying and stress free. It just wasn't remotely satisfying or fullfilling. Meanwhile today I was sitting at work, listening to TV on my discman (Oprah had the cast of DreamGirls on her show), thinking there is nowhere I'd rather be, nothing I'd rather be doing. I don't want love. I want to be bored and safe from being completely consumed by work and given nothing in return. I want to be bored and safe from being completely consumed by a bad relationship. I don't want to be stressed out at work, even if I do like what I'm doing. I don't want to allow some guy to infiltrate and rob me of my hard won completeness. So I shop? Is that where I am getting my fullfillment? Is this my reaction to the reprieve of being consumed for so long by my ailing health and being scared that I am going to die? Is this the flip side of being numbed by too much shit happening at once? I should know better. I do know better. This is one of my vices that I thought I had risen above. There has to be a better outlet for whatever this feeling is that I am submerging. Guess all that talk about clarity and 30 being a smarter, less frantic version of 20 was just talk because one of my worst vices is back and it's worse than ever.

Maybe I just need to go out more; I definitely need to show off those pink lace tights. They'd look hot with the short black sweater dress and the Michael Kors boots. It's official. I am insane.