How badly do you want it? When I was younger I wanted it so badly I made poor choices and tried crazy things to get it. I bought into the whole parade of elephants. How marvelous you’ll look and feel. How everyone will notice your previously undiscovered beauty. How people will hang on your every word like you are spewing wisdom only your fountain can produce…and it was all horseshit and feathers.
You know what? I guess I don’t want it that badly anymore. All the years I have wasted chasing the perfect body size and for what? I lost weight once so I could have children, then I found out I was barren. Jokes on me. I lost weight so men could think of me more as a woman than a fishing buddy. It took me well into my thirties before someone wanted to tackle my box…PUN INTENDED. Jokes on me; hubby thinks I am beautiful just the way I am. I am tired of chasing that rainbow… take me as I am because I am done.
I always quit. My road is too long. The pain too great, the rewards are not there. But wait…
…today I popped all the balloons I have been carefully inflating to have at that last pity party.
I have been creating a negative headspace for sometime now. I am angry because I have stopped actively pursuing my weight loss. I have not lost one pound in a YEAR! No, that’s not true; I have gained and lost the same thirteen pounds for a year. I can see the path I want to be on but I have not been dedicated to reaching my destination. Maybe my GPS is broken? My Pops has been passed away for nearly a year, yet I still catch myself getting ready to go see him at the nursing home. I have something now I haven’t had in a very long while. TIME; I HAVE TIME!!!! So much of it that I am having difficulties filling it with positive things to do. I need to find something to plug into those afternoons that will keep me active, off the couch and engaged with people I enjoy.
I start a vacation very soon. I think I will take that time to make a plan, join a gym, return to program and once and for all cross finish line and start a new journey. Who needs a perfect body? I just want to be comfortable in my own skin.
Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant To Be
I have never tried to write my blog while listening to music before. I thought I would give it a try. I am listening to In Blue by The Corrs. I love this CD. It helps to put me in a better mood when the thick fog of funk rolls in. I have the sound turned down a bit so I can process my thoughts. It is true that you never forget a good lesson learned. I used to sing, listen to music in high school to help me prep for tests. Feels like home, who knew? I switched to my go to gal…Streisand. Her music gives me something no other music has ever given me, the ability to believe in myself.
Lately, ok maybe that is a bad reference for time. I have not been getting along with myself for a few years now. This rift in my being has caused me turmoil and self-loathing. One would think that I would have learned to set myself free from that bullshit already. I think I have finally realized it is part of the mystery I call me. I lost faith in myself. I got lost on my journey. I am in the deep woods surrounded by mosquitoes and other wild life with no FECKING idea how to get back to the main road… except, I know the way. I have been unwilling to “fix” my course. Listen, I was in the middle of a first class pity party. I had balloons and snacks and more snacks and more snacks, well I think you get the idea. Eventually it was time to crawl down from my perch in the tress and rejoin the world around me.
I choose my life. Every crappy, wonderful, screwed up minute. I want to be healthy. One of my mother’s last wishes for me was to be well. She knew she was fading and her time was drawing to a close. She gave me one of her best Junie hugs. “I love you, Trish. I know you will take care of Daddy but I worry you won’t look after you. Don’t become me. I can’t walk. I struggle for breath. Someone has to help me with every small thing. Do you want to end up like me? unable to live like you want?” I brushed it off at the time. Mom being dramatic with all the trappings. She died three months later. I started WWs March 3, 2007. My mom passed away June 11.2007. In that short time I lost 50 pounds. I continued to lose for her, for me until I left behind 145 pounds. Hold your applause. Yes, I lost all that weight and then I walked away.
Funny thing about grief after awhile your mind softens the sharp edges so you can move on with your life. Unfortunately, I chose to move in the wrong direction. I had my reasons; ill conceived most of them. Shortly after my Mom’s passing I began taking care of my Dad. In the beginning he only needed gentle reminders and help with his shopping. I was on course. I managed to lose 145 pounds. I was 6 pounds short of reaching lifetime goal at WWs when my Dad had a cardio-vascular accident that changed our lives. He nearly died on me. I was thrust into full time caregiver with part time hours. Where was my rock? Suddenly I felt so useless and small. Dad got better physically but his dementia…well, that is an ongoing adventure = (
I coped the only way an addict knows how. I FELL off the wagon. No, that’s a lie. I JUMPED. It has taken eight years to regain most of the weight I lost. I didn’t want to deal with all the sadness, disappointment and loneliness that comes from taking care of an ailing loved one. There is no one to blame. It is what it is. I allowed myself to fall short on purpose, fulfilling my own doom theory. Well guess what? Screw that shit. I have things I want to do. Things I need to fix. Adventures to take. People to love. I accept I will always have to fight my need to “fix” my problems with food. Food is the worst friend, ever. I can’t live without her. She won’t change so I need to learn to give her space so my soul can have peace.