Donuts have ironic sprinkles.

A while back I gingerly crept downstairs after everyone was asleep to eat a donut over the kitchen sink.  I’m not blogging about this for pity or to publicly shame myself.  If I wanted to do that I would talk about my late 20s.

No instead it’s to paint a picture of me and donuts – a toxic relationship.  You are going to give me a cupcake with a hole in the middle, covered in frosting, and call it breakfast?  Sign me up!

I don’t think there is anything better out there in the mornings.  But I digress…donuts are yummy and fill a hole inside my chubby little heart.  If there was a symbol for my struggles it would be the donut.  Forever a hole in the donut – nothing can fill it and make it right.  Oh you can try to plug it up with a donut-hole – but that just creates a weird bump in the middle.  A donut filled with bright red raspberry filling with no hole?  Sure but what’s oozing out the sides – oh yes the pain, the frustration, the sugar depression inside.

In February of 2013 I had just gotten married two months prior.  We were planning on moving from our home into a condo and I was about to leave a job I had enjoyed greatly!  Life was changing and stress was mounting.  Unfortunately all those changes weren’t for the best.  I had miscalculated the need for a new job and as such suffered a lot for a year.

To say I didn’t enjoy the new job would have been an understatement.  It was a soul crushing uphill battle that brought a lot of pain and stress to my life and my families’ lives.  Along with that was the realization that a new married relationship was not something you “had” but something you worked on all the time.  With two kids added to the mix – we struggled mightily to gain control of our lives and be happy.

So if I’m writing about it here you can probably assume it wasn’t going well.  And still it’s not going like we would like in life.  I wrote yesterday about trying to find normal again.  Normal 3 years ago was not donuts or depression.  Normal was healthy breakfasts and a positive outlook on life.

But why donuts?  Why is that the great battle?  I think for some there is a food, or drink, or activity that you run to when life gets you down.  I can remember getting ready in the mornings to head to a job I hated only to end up having a horrible morning with the family.  Before I would make it to work I would stop off at the gas station and pick up a package of those tiny chocolate donuts.  You know the ones dipped in wax to prevent them from melting?  I would find comfort in eating those after a stressful morning at home and the impending doom of work to come.  It was my safe place – it wasn’t healthy but I thought it was happy.

I haven’t had a pack of those in sometime now – if my wife reads this she will ask me when the last time was – I will save you time honey – I really don’t know.  When was the last time I wanted to buy some?  Monday morning…which brings me to the ironic twist in my donut struggle.

You see over the weekend I had a rather enlightening and frank talk.  Once again I realized what I have realized 1000 times before.  I’m not myself, I don’t like it, and I want to change.  But this time there was a real sense of desperation and need to fix things.  I’m 34 and I am wasting away my life – I can’t and won’t take this anymore!  Despite stress and life I am going to battle ahead and try and fix this life I once loved so much…

And as we were driving to south Denver Monday morning for an appointment my wife and I made a quick and frantic trip into a store to buy a cake box at 7am – why a cake box you ask?  That’s not my story to tell that’s hers.  Anyway there we are in the store and what does my lovely, attractive, skinny wife grab for breakfast.  NOT ONE BUT TWO…TWO LARGE BOXES OF MINI DONUTS!  DA FUCK?  Really?  Mini donuts.  Let me give you an example of what this would be similar to.  Imagine you are driving to south Denver for an appointment on a Monday morning with your wife. She forgets to bring a cake box so you need to stop off at the store.  While buying the cake box she buys some meth – and you are highly addicted to meth.  That’s what it’s like.  And for anyone that wants to get all mad about comparing donuts to drugs you can save it – I get it – donuts are way better than drugs! Am I right fat people!!??

Anyway that’s my life right now.  Fighting an uphill battle while people eat mini donuts around me.  I didn’t eat the damn donuts.  I wanted to.  Oh GOD I WANTED TO!  Instead I went to work and got a nice green apple, some water, and felt a tiny sense of pride inside.  I didn’t eat a mini donut – we will count that as a mini victory.


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