Kat Atwell is a freelance writer, blogger & stage presence telling stories that deliver laughs, validation & community.

Mental Health | Wellness & Self Image | Experiential & Reviews

Still purging. Or surging.

I am fairly certain I gave away about two-thirds of my wardrobe to Goodwill today. For some reason, after dropping stuff off, my mood just tanked. I'm not sure if it was due to the fact that ...well, I know what it is. It's not going to come out eloquently. I start a project I've been putting off for some time. I accomplish what anyone else would consider a very significant amount of work, but the internal dialogue has turned into this putrid, nasty thing, telling me that it never should have gotten this bad in the first place. And wow, there is so much still to be done, had I not been keeping up with things in the first place this wouldn't be an issue, etc. It's taking quite a bit of self-control not to start tearing into another drawer, or making an exhaustive to-do list for tomorrow, that I unquestionably would make too large, and then I'd get mad at myself for not doing everything on there, despite getting stuff done at all.

I'm being overly critical of what I'm writing. It's kind of like when someone stands in a doorway and pretends like there's someone just out of sight, and using their own arm, pulls them away. Now I'm going to have to find it. The gross part of my brain is trying to hold the rest of me hostage.

Well, crap. That's a hard thing to Google. If you happen to know what I'm talking about (it seems like a maneuver Mike Myers or Chris Kattan would have executed during an SNL sketch), please share.

I went the entire day wearing sweats, a t-shirt, and flip-flops. I went out in public this way twice. I kind of hope a friend snapped a picture of me and submitted it to What Not to Wear. Is that show still on? I'd do it.

I am grateful I did a lot of cleaning today - my closet looks beautiful now, and I rediscovered a ton of clothes I'd forgotten I'd had. I'm also looking forward to a fresh start tomorrow. I'm going to recommit to my food journal and healthy eating habits. If I want, I can stay up ridiculously late, looking at projects on Pinterest, reading something, watching a movie.

Suddenly, I'm craving a poached egg. Weird.

It's crossed my mind that I should start a second blog that allows me to write stuff that really is aimed at entertaining an audience, as opposed to this. This stuff is difficult to write. I know someone's reading it, so it must be making some kind of impact. But this isn't the kind of writing I'd ever want to publish, or be known for. I applaud those memoir writers that can be so stark and honest and raw.

Writing has helped. I feel a little better.