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Is it silly that I never considered myself an adrenaline junkie? I should consider myself some kind of junkie. I have developed a personality that craves that zippy brain. Or that has become so used to it that it has no idea how to function in its absence.

I am obsessive. But I never thought I was. You can rationalize almost anything. It’s only human. I love what Jeff Goldblum’s character says about rationalization in The Big Chill. Rationalization is unavoidable. But knowing the difference between it and deeper truths is key to living in truth.

I am tired of denying. Of rationalizing. But I am so used to being tired. I know it sounds like I’m repeating myself. But for me it’s not. I am wrapping my brain around something which is challenging for me. I must wrap from many sides and with many layers in order to actually get a good grasp on it.

I was going to write about the day I had at the County Fair, a day of getting more and more obsessed with food and less and less in touch with any other more spiritual, grounded parts of myself. I was going to write that at least I had a strong awareness of this obsession. I saw it for what it was. A thing unto itself. Unconnected to hunger or any need for sustenance. It’s very complicated. And then I’m so proud of myself for having a flatter stomach. It turns out I am idolatrizing. I am missing the potential I have to be a spiritual, beautiful human being. I am idolizing something very superficial, eh? Thinness. Where will that get me? Nowhere. Fast.

(next morning) I have a weird relationship with adrenaline. Weird things happen when I get it in my system. Equally weird things happen when I don’t. Should my life revolve around it? It appears to have been the primary factor causing my imbalance last night after the fair. I got the rush, but I didn’t binge? Which way is up? How do I come to terms with that turn of events? At least I seem to be figuring it out now. I am just loving this learning curve relating to OA.