Seeing all the way through

There are days when I am certain of things, and days when I am not certain of things.

The not certain days are disconcerting and the most disconcerting part of all is that in the midst of questioning my life, and everything in it, and the seeming futility and pointlessness of the road I have taken, I seem to lose sight of the fact that I will in fact wake up later -- sometimes a day, sometimes a week -- and see that everything is okay and the road I am on is good and not everything is all fucked up.  My circumstances are the same, but my perspective changes.  But I forget that when I am having a dark day.  And the dark days, the days when it seems I have made irrevocably bad choices (actually, it's not even that...it's more that I have failed to make choices, good or bad, and allowed inertia to carry me downstream like an oak leaf)....those days seem to come closer and closer together.

This dichotomy reminds me of something else:  my relationship with food.  When I am in control, I am so very, very, very in control, and I can't imagine ever going back, ever gaining another pound, it's going to be all down from here, and I look with this condescending mixture of pity and irritation on my binges of only days before.  When I am out of control, it is the exact opposite -- the scale is going to continue to go up, it is never going down again, never, because I will never again figure out where the off button is, and  I look with longing and bafflement at the days of control and they seem as foreign to me as if they had not in fact been experienced by me at all, but were something I read in someone else's blog.