I know I've been bad about posting as of late. There's been so much going on, from the simchas of my brother's and cousin's graduations to the sadness of my cantor's losing her job. Lots of emotion, and so much of it has left me exhausted emotionally and physically.
I've learned so much about synagogue politics and infrastructure within the last 2 weeks. There has been so much I've needed to absorb and to come to terms with. There has been so much I've learned that I've never wanted to learn, and I wish my cantor didn't have to lose her job for me to learn these lessons. The whole thing disgusts me and makes me sick, though I see the reasons it needed to be done. The hardest part is yet to come, when I sit down with my childhood rabbi on Friday morning and ask him how this decision came to be. How is it possible to express your anger and disappointment without burning the important bridges you need for your professional career?
I've spent the last 2 weeks at home in St Louis. I've been a friend to Linda, trying to help her cope with her terrible loss. I've been a shoulder for my brother who is trying to deal with life as a college graduate, with no job prospects due to this shitty economy, living at home again, and girlfriend troubles. I'm trying to help my mom as much as I can without letting her get to me, and it gets increasingly difficult as the days go on.
Sometimes, after a long day of dealing with everyone else's crap, I just want someone to hold me and tell me everything is going to be alright. I know how cheesy that sounds. It makes me want to vomit, too.
But it's true.
I've also been disgusted with myself. As a result of all of these goings-on, all I do at the end of the day is eat food I don't need. For example, today I've eaten approximately 4,679 reeses peanut butter cups, along with huge chunks of the muffins my mom brought home and something like 17,000 pieces of cheese. This is emotional eating to the extreme, and while I do feel as though I have good reason for it, I also realize it can't continue if I want to continue fitting into the size 18 pants I've recently bought.
Is it bad to wish I could just hack huge portions of flesh off of my body and whip myself into a new person, with a pretty flat tummy and perfectly toned arms? Maybe in my next lifetime...
Upon my return to NYC, things will be changing. I'm joining a gym, for one.
Until then, I press on.