Trying to locate the wagon so I can climb back on

In the last three months I've regained 20 lbs.

I am agitated.  About weight and health stuff, about work, about my general sense of purpose/belonging.

I am trying to figure out how to pull things back together, reorganize, direct myself toward personal goals.  The thought of where to start is a little overwhelming and leaves me sitting on the couch.  I hate to even give voice to the things that are weighing on me because that might make them even more real.  So, despite my self-awareness that I should take some of these things on, doing so is likely to cause even greater levels of distress and I am not sure I am equipped right now.

My employer was doing free metabolism tests today so I went in and got that done.  A nutritionist was giving them. It was a train wreck.  The testing part was fine, but then we filled out a ten-item survey that asked questions like "Do you drink 8 glasses of water a day? Do you exercise 3 times a week?  Do you eat 5 servings of vegetables a day?"  The questions that I responded "no" to (honestly), she "counseled" me by speaking slowly about how to do said things... "You should drink more water.  Here's an idea... keep a bottle of water at your desk and refill it.  Do you think you can try that?" "Try to keep some fruit at home.  Bananas are an example of a fruit. You can do it!"  She didn't ask me anything about myself, where I get stuck, what the barriers are for me.  It made me sad, feels like another disappointment on my journey to try to improve my health.  She kept saying things like "You can do this! You'll feel so much better! If you have a good attitude, things will be good. If you have a negative attitude, things will be bad." Ugh.  she kept bending over to get paperwork, which put her red thong underwear on display. Multiple times.  I know, I have an awful attitude. Obviously this means that things will be bad.

I have that "coming out of my skin" sense of restlessness and discomfort, which is usually reserved for summer break when the busy-ness stops long enough for me to settle in to my existential anxiety. It shouldn't be hitting the first day of a 4-day weekend.  But here we are.

It's not like I have nothing to do, I have plenty to do. I have a podcast project that I was initially very enthusiastic about, but I have settled in to a serious case of impostor's syndrome which has led me to question what right I have to say anything about anything, and has frozen me in my tracks.  I have also been replaying a pretend conversation in my head that I would like to have with co-workers about how their gossiping behavior is certainly as splitting and isolating as any that they complain is perpetuated by other people's behavior. On the other hand I am trying to convince myself to just STFU and keep quietly so I can peacefully (??)  avoid the drama.  Trying to be with people who are mired in dysfunction fuels my sense of anxiety, pulling away fuels my awful sense of isolation.

Meanwhile, I just want to shove every piece of chocolate in my mouth that is within commuting range.  And no amount of water bottles at my desk is going to fix that.