Sugar-Coated

Previously on Betsy’s Blog…

When Betsy loses two of her beloved cats within six weeks of each other due to cancer, Harry, Betsy’s Quest Guide, leaves her alone for a little while to grieve.  However, when he returns to Betsy’s brain, he’s disturbed to find molecules of sugar and chemicals flying around everywhere and Betsy’s Muse sound asleep on a ratty sofa pushed into a corner.  Talking to the Muse causes more concern.  Harry knew Betsy was a wreck, but he finds out she hasn’t written anything at all since he’s been gone.  Harry and the Muse both know that writing will help Betsy work through her emotions, but Betsy doesn’t seem to know that.  In fact, Harry begins to suspect that Betsy might have gotten herself completely derailed.

Another wave of sugar and chemicals hits, sending the Muse into a sound sleep.  Harry makes a dash for Betsy’s temporal lobe to see if he can figure out what’s going on.  What will he find?

Betsy!

HELLO.

*Harry skids to a halt and stares*  Who the hell are you?

*The shadows shift* *The ganglia wiggle*

*silence*

Huh.  Weird.  Better find Betsy. Betsy?  Where are you?

…because….the world is round….it turns me on….

Betsy!  *Harry leaps forward again*  Where are you?

…because….the world….is….round….aaaaahhhhhhhh

And why the hell are you singing a Beatles song?  *Harry pushes aside some cells*  Great googly moogly Betsy’s sprawled all over her brain like a limp noodle.

…because…the wind is high….it blows my mind….

For God’s sake, stop singing.  Especially that freaking song.  *Harry jumps on Betsy’s chest and prods her with his little paws*  What in the world have you done to yourself, woman?

love is all…love is new….*cough* Harry?  Harry is that you?  *Betsy blinks sugar-encrusted eyelashes*

Of course it’s me, you moron.  What are you doing?

It’s so good to see you.  *Betsy smiles goofily, then frowns*  What do you mean, what am I doing?

What have you done to yourself?  *Harry slaps her across the cheek*  Snap out of it!

Ow! *Betsy puts hand to cheek*  I’m just laying here.  I’m allowed to lay here.  It’s MY brain.  I’m allowed to hide in it if I wanna.

*Harry settles back on his hind legs*  The last time we talked you were all motivated.  You were gonna be an indie publisher.  You were gonna be an authorpreneur.  You were gonna write, damn it.

*Betsy looks away*  But then Emily died, and…

I know she did doll.  *Harry tilts Betsy’s head back with a gentle paw*  I’m sorry.

*Betsy blinks*  Thank you.

But what happened?  *Harry looks around*  *notices that the entire temporal lobe is covered in layers and layers of sugar*  What have you been doing?

*Betsy looks away again*  Eating.

Betsy!  *Harry sighs*  You KNOW that doesn’t help.  You KNOW the sugar and fats and all of the chemicals in the food just make you crazy.  You KNOW it’s not going to do anything but make you feel worse.

I know.  *Betsy sniffles*  But when I eat the sugar and the fats and the pastries and all of the things I’m not supposed to eat then I can escape from everything for a little while.

But it’s only a little while.  And then your blood sugar is out of control and you crash.  Besides, it’s poison for you!  It’s like you’re poisoning yourself!

Maybe.  *Betsy blushes*  But it feels good at first.

*Harry sighs*  Does it feel good now?

No.  *Betsy frowns*  I feel kind of crappy, to tell the truth.

Are you ready to stop eating the way you have been?

*Betsy picks at the fabric of her blouse*  It’s not that easy.

What do you mean?  *Harry starts to pace*  You feel crappy.  You know that writing will help.  So you stop eating badly, you stop poisoning yourself, and you write instead.  Instead of escaping through food, you escape through writing.  Easy.

*Betsy looks at Harry, eyes wide and frightened*  *whispers*  I hear ice cream.

*Harry blinks*  Huh?

I hear ice cream.  And pastries.  And brownies.  And chocolate.  And cheesecake.  And larger than advisable portions of food that would otherwise be considered halfway decent.  I…I want to stop eating like this.  I swear to you.  I’ve tried!  But I hear them singing to me in my DREAMS!  Calling me!  Telling me to come to them. *sobs*

*Harry settles*  I don’t get it.

*Betsy sits up*  *gazes furtively around the brain*  *whispers even more softly*  I started eating badly when Emily died.  I just wanted to escape.  I just wanted to numb my brain for a little bit.  Can you blame me?  CAN YOU?

Uh…

And now I can’t stop eating.  I start out the day doing okay.  I do.  Honest.  I have things under control.  Then around three o’clock… *Betsy swallows*  It all goes to hell and I end up here.  Stretched out in my brain.  Covered in sugar.  Singing “Because”.

Wow.  Huh.  *Harry starts to get up*

You can’t leave me.  *Betsy clutches at him*  I know you’re just a gerbil, but you’re all I’ve got.  You have to help me break this.

*Harry shakes his little head*  Well, I know you’ve got to break this, doll, but I’m not sure–

You have to help me!  *Betsy squeezes Harry with both hands*  You have to!  I’ll never become an authorpreneur if I don’t get this under control.  I can’t keep losing time like this!   I can’t…I can’t…I’M NOT GETTING ANY YOUNGER!

Okay, okay.  *Harry struggles and finally breaks free*  *smooths down his coat*  *itches at his ear*  Sheesh.  You’re right, okay?

*Betsy blinks tear-filled eyes*  I am?

Yeah.  There’s no way you’ll become an authorpreneur if you keep up this way.  You need to get over this…this…food addiction or the next time you hit a bad spot you’re going to end up flat on your back in your temporal lobe singing “Because”.

*Betsy tries to hug him*  I knew you’d understand!

*Harry evades her outstretched arms*  Okay, so, first of all.  Who else is in here?

*Betsy blinks*  Who else?  Nobody.

*Harry shakes his head*  I know I heard somebody else in here.

*Betsy frowns*  No.  Seriously.  It’s just me.

I don’t–

BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

*Betsy looks around her brain*  Who’s that?

 

To be continued…