I am amusingly forgiving in regards to my particular brand of overdosing. My brand of bingeing. My brand of self poisoning. My brand of the death march.

What am I doing on Earth? I wonder if I’m getting any closer to figuring that out. I seem to have been put here to confuse, hurt, and please people. I was put here to eat an inordinate amount of food, junk or otherwise. Just as long as it’s inordinate.
I was put here to watch an inordinate amount of tv. I was put here to be unproductive. I was put here to spend. I was put here to be sore in my left arm. I was put here to keep wisdom to myself.
Isolating should also be mentioned.
Listening to oodles of music from a variety of sources has been a lifelong pastime.
I have written some journals, I guess. They cover the gamut. Although there is certainly a lot of repetition.

When will I find out why I was really put here? Tonight? How’s tonight? Was I put here to help build and run a few restaurants? Was I put here to keep a house in order? I wonder if the 12 step program can elucidate these questions for me. It’s tricky though, isn’t it. I don’t give myself to this program. Maybe because it really is a tall order. It certainly isn’t what I have typically done in my lifetime, as a whole. I am more likely to do Mad Libs and eat chocolate til the wee hours than do the soul searching and higher power opening up necessary to be a program role model.