The road most travelled

The problem is that I’m heading down that road again. The one I was able to get off from and avoid for 8 months now. The one where I know exactly what’s up ahead, no maps required. It’s not exactly autopilot this time. I’m tired. I’m slowly giving up. My personal goals. I’m starting to eat shit again. Nowhere as much as I used to, but I can feel my resolve eluding me. Although there was a box of Krispy Kremes in the office today and I didn’t have one. It wasn’t hard, but it could have been easy too. The food is only a cover for everything else.

Ahat road is a big ass downhill. For each time I tell myself I have to get off my ass, it’s a weight I put on myself. Put myself down for every easy excuse I make. I don’t want to go back there. I do not want to go back. Period. I don’t want to hate myself. I want to look in the mirror and see what others have seen. It hurts even to think about how I was, felt, lived. Inside my head, it was so ugly.

But the travelling alone thing, it’s hard. I understand, I work on myself, I can’t expect anyone to do the work for me. And I don’t. I just need a little rest. It’s been a fucking ride. I’m totally drained. Status quo? An option, but that is still too close to the past. I wanted to change. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to be filled. I changed. I came close to being happy. But I still have a leak I guess, because I’m nowhere close to being filled. It was all hot air. Bullshit. Words. Comfort.

The easy road is calling me. Or am I just contemplating it? Am I that lazy that I’m willing to go back? I hope not.