Call me journey-woman

So you think that weight-loss is a "journey"  and I think, people who call weight-loss a "journey" are assholes. Why? Because to me a "journey" brings up visions of exciting things like really fun spur-of-the-moment vacations and...and...well, besides really fun spur-of-the-moment vacations, I guess I can't think of anything else. But what I am trying to say is I don't really feel that weight-loss is a "journey" more like torture or punishment for making poor food choices.

With that being said, I am still working on myself and losing weight and dammit it is hard and it sucks. Why does everything that tastes so good have to be bad for me? Why can't I just have a "bite" of something instead of the whole fucking thing? Why can't I leave food on my plate? Why (stomp), why (snort), why (stomp), does this have to be my life? Was I so bad as a child that I am being punished by this...fat-ass of mine (well to be said my ass really isn't that fat, it's my gut and arms, and back...well, anyway) or was it a former life? Seriously, am I being punished for being bad in a former life?! Well, that is a discouraging line of thought...

But even with all the whining, pissing and moaning that I do, I keep going to WW. Now I am not saying that I lose every week because for the last 2 weeks I have gained making my weight-loss total for a month a whole .6 lbs, maybe if I had went to the bathroom before I weighed-in it would have been a whole .8 lbs but I want to refrain from being that crazy if I can help it. But it is still a loss, taking my total up to somewhere around 33 lbs down since January. Which isn't bad.

Things not to do when you are crazy...

I have been crazy most of my life. Not really hearing voices crazy (unless you count the voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like my mother which constantly tells me "your too fat", "your not good enough", "no one will ever love you"....) but more of a avoidance of all that is stressful, uncomfortable, unpleasant and many other "un" words. Crazy in the way that I thought everyone's family was as dysFUNctional as mine. Crazy in the way that I keep doing the same thing over and over and truly do expect different results (although I like to call this type of crazy; optimism). When you are semi-crazy like me there are just things you should avoid. Things like (semi-colon or colon here? hummm):
      1. Horoscopes, especially those online like on Myspace. Why? They seem harmless enough even if they are the work of the devil. Because they will eventually say things that will be pertinent to your life and then you will obsess over them endless. You will no longer be able to sleep because you will hear the horoscope of doom in your head "something which has been lost or hidden may come to light now. Secrets (not the secrets, don't you know how many secrets crazy people have. I mean come on people, damn!), long-buried feelings and desires, or skeletons in the closet could be revealed (oh fuck). This is also a time when you can easily go to extremes...(really, me extremes, surely you jest)...*taken from Myspace daily horoscopes, get yourself one*. Seriously, though, just avoid horoscopes at all cost. What is going to happen will happen, even if you know about it ahead of time.
      2. Calling your mother. Crazies should never talk to their mother. Ever. Never, ever, ever. Why? says all you mother-lovers out there. Because your mother is the reason you are crazy, duh. Calling her is like poking the bear with a stick, attached to a pot of honey, which you happen to be holding and did I mention the bear was hibernating and you are too fat to run?? I mean come on unless you live with your therapist, don't call your mother!
      3. Making decisions. Don't make a decision when you are crazy. Wait till the craziness ebbs a little bit then make the hell out of decisions, because if you make a decision when you are in full-on craziness you will end up with something permanent like a husband or a bad tattoo. *Please note, not making a decision is making a decision...and you wonder why I am crazy....*
     4. Well, I am getting tired here. So I am thinking I am going to let four be up to you, my crazy friends. Four could be a number of things for me, like; sending a letter to an estranged friend's mother and thinking it is a good idea, drinking (never a good plan), shopping (I think I am a Kennedy when I shop), eating (because I binge, never purge, just binge) and many other fun things! 

Can't a girl get a break?

This week has been a total bite in the ass. Total. Bite. In. The. ASS. *sigh* And it is only Friday, which starts my oh-so-wonderful work week. Yeah me! I only have two more weekends to go before I stop being a weekend warrior and start a more normal schedule (well, whatever is normal for a nurse working night shift). I am really kind of on the fence about "coming off" weekends. Tony is not overly happy with my decision because me not working weekends will interfere with his d&d time. Like I really give a big flying...(well, maybe I will just stop here for peace sake)...Anyway there are things that I want to do and some of them involve Saturday and Sunday soooo, guess Tony will just have to suck it up and get over himself.

As most of you know, I never pick up time at work, as I am lazy I really don't like working. I like staying home and doing well, whatever, the hell I want to do. You know important stuff like laying around in my nightgown all day and wasting a huge amount of time on the internet and watching TV (and I wonder why I am I fighting the fat? hummm). But with new pay cut we are facing and the fact that I have been ignoring the bills (do you know those pesty bastards just keep coming? No matter how much you ignore them or throw them away?! They don't care that you are depressed and need to do retail therapy to feel better..shitheads) I picked up some time at work and well, I never pick up time again. Never.

Why? Well, it first started off with a close family friend dying and her visitation being on Monday the same hours that I picked up. Of course, I went to the visitation and thankfully I work with a pretty decent bunch of people that are understanding and just traded back with me the hours I traded with them. No harm no foul.  Then I had told someone I would work a few hours for them Thursday and  my Wicked-Step-Mother ended up in the hospital. Thus the same thing happened I traded back the hours I was going to pick-up, guess working extra just wasn't meant for me.

The Wicked-Step-Mother was doing better when I left last night. Her sugar was down to a more compatible with life range and she was tired but feeling better. I tried not to be too annoying while at the hospital but I just can't help myself. I want to know numbers and what are they going to do next. Why are they doing x,y and z. What was crazy is only one resident was kind of short with me and everyone else was great and answered all of my questions without any problems. One of the nurses actually told me that she was thankful I was asking questions and active in my families care. I am grateful for such great care.

So I am really worried about the hospital I work at and what is going to happen to us. Guess health care is not the job laden, safe field I thought it to be. People everywhere are taking pay cuts and getting laid-off. It is a scary world out there. I wonder if I go back to bed and pull the covers up over my head if the real-world monster can still get me? Hum....

I'm so sick...

Ok, so maybe I am not so sick but seriously just blue. Not a deep, dark blue where I go on auto-pilot but a light blue that at least allows me to continue to function in some sort of way, even if I cry inappropriately. Logically, I know what is causing me to be blue. It's part grief mixed with a lot of self-pity right now. Not really a very attractive quality huh? But I can't help and really don't plan on changing it anytime soon so get over it. Attempting to lose weight has made me look at my relationship with food and various other things, things being people I suppose...anyway I digress. While I would love to say I have some sort of medical issue that has made me fat it just wouldn't be true, I made me fat and dammit it is a hard thing to swallow (pun intended). I put these layers of fat on me so I could keep people away. People can't hurt you if they can't get close, right?Right? RIGHT?! No, not right, not true. No matter how big I get people are still going to hurt me. Life hurts. Living life hurts even worse then just cruising through life on auto-pilot. Being in the moment and feelings things for what they are, that is the most painful. Being present kills me. It scares me so bad that my heart flutters and I feel the acid rise in my stomach. I like having my fingers in my ears and going la-la-la I can't hear you! At least I think I like it. Or maybe I used to like it. Well, at least it works for me. Yeah, that is it, it works great for me! It doesn't ever lead to guilt or sorrow. It never makes me regret not being involved or being present. It makes me happy! Hell yeah, thrilled.

Ya'll are believing this right? Because I have made such great, healthy choices in my life things are going swimmingly well for me. Sure. God love a liar. Who the hell am I kidding? Because it ain't me anymore, I am on to myself and my bullshit habits. And I am not so happy with them right now. But here comes the hard part. I know what doesn't work but I don't what does work. Hell, I don't even know where to start. I feel scared, confused and lost. I tried leaving bread-crumbs behind me on my journey but I keep going back and eating them. And you know what? They don't even taste good. And really, I never was lost because I was too afraid to get started.

The other rolling stones

So this blog had to wait until I finished eating my oh so yummy Popsicle. This morning I feel like I have literally eaten us out of house and home. I hate when I get on these binges. I feel like I have to eat and eat and eat and then I am miserable and eat some more. It is really pissing me off. What to do about it? Well, if I was smart, insightful kind of person I would be able to take a step-back and say "Well, Mrs. Wellman, you are binge eating because you are attempting to fill some sort of void in your life. You are eating away the pain and suffering you feel was caused by your childhood" or some other psycho-babble that while may be true isn't really helping me one damn bit at this moment. But instead of taking that step-back and attempting to look at that cause, I take a step-forward to the kitchen till I find some pepcid and eat some-freakin'-more. I am loving life today. It's not really that I am in a bad mood or anything of that sort. I can't tell you what is on my stomach mind I really feel kind of feel blank. I am not really bored, I have shows I can watch, things I can do (like clean or pay bills, you know fun stuff) but instead I have eaten and eaten. And now I am sick and I have weigh-in at WW tonight. It's not going to be good.

My birthday was a few days ago and boy what a birthday it wasn't. Tony and I had a falling out over purchasing a grill. I want a gas-grill for my birthday, this is the second, maybe third birthday in a row in which I wanted a gas-grill and did not get one. Now I know I could just go and buy one myself but dammit, I don't want to do that. It is my birthday wish to get a grill and someone should happily buy me one, whether we have a freakin' porch or not to place it on. And if someone steals the damn thing, well you can give me a big, fat, I told you so. And btw, why wouldn't someone steal it off the porch that we don't have? Oh yeah and giving me a card that I purchased for someone else, doesn't make-up for the fact you didn't buy me a present (or a card, hello)! Tony failed this year for my birthday.

Oh yeah and what did I get for my birthday? Well, you guys know how much women like stones, so I got myself a kidney stone and a trip to the ER for my birthday. And can I pass the stone? Well, that is yet to be seen. I have passed others and even though this stone is "small" I can't seem to get it to come out. Thanks Mr. Stone for hanging out and making me miserable but you can leave anytime and when you go, will you please stop-by Wally's and buy me a grill.

Fat

I have started and stopped this blog several times now. I am not sure what it is exactly that bothers me about this subject that I can't seem to speak about it but it is time I say a few things that are on my mind. I am fat, now I know this isn't a big surprise to some of you, but it was a surprise to me. Not that I am fat, duh, but that I am FAT. *sigh* Here I where I want to say all this shit about size acceptance and how beauty is what is on the inside and other blah, blah, blah bullshit that may or may not be true but I won't, I can't anymore. No more excuses. I am fat and I have a problem with food. There I said it, it's out there. Judge me, it is what is it is. I don't just eat to fuel my body, I eat to dull the pain. I eat to fill this big empty hole that is inside of me. I eat because I don't like myself, my life, my house, my whatever. I don't deal with my problems I just stuff them down with food. I cover my problems in syrup, chips, burgers, ice cream and then cry because I can no longer buy clothing from the store. I never change because I have food to keep me safe and happy. It is my comfort, it is my friend.

People want to lose weight for a multitude of reasons, some because they don't feel "good" fat or some because they aren't healthy. Me, I want to lose weight because my weight is seriously putting a damper on my life. I miss out on so much because I am heavy and I am tired. I can't do a lot of things because well, I just can't. Steps are my mortal enemy. I worry about sitting, is this chair going to hold my fat-ass or break and humiliate me? I am going to a play next week for my birthday and I worry about sitting in the seat because I know my fat will extend over onto the other persons side. I will be miserable all night worried that the person next to me will be freaking out about how big I am. I want to travel but unless I want to pay for two seats flying isn't really an option. I want to be free of this burden.

I feel that being fat has hurt my career, I know that people judge me and think me stupid because of my size. I hate that more than anything. I am fat, not stupid thanks. I am sure that I haven't gotten jobs because of my size and I worry about applying for jobs because I don't want to be turned down because of my size. Fat is a terrible burden sometimes.

What now? Well, I am working on it. I am struggling along with weight watchers. I have lost 22 lbs and probably gained 5 lbs back this week as poorly as I have eaten. But dammit I was so cross I was afraid I was going to get written up at work for my piss poor attitude and scared Tony was either going to leave me or kill me. I had to eat food, fattening food in large quantities. I feel off the wagon and I'll be damned it ran over me. But I am sorta back on the wagon. Attempting to be good. Please bear with me while I try and change. 

Hate and other fun things to do

Hate you are not my friend. You are not welcome in my life anymore. You have caused me nothing but grief and sorrow at the harsh words and thoughts that I have had the past several weeks. Relationships that I have worked on for years you attempted to tear apart in seconds with cruel words and actions. I don't appreciate all the trouble you have caused me. How did you become important in my life? Why did I let you in and how did I miss the fact that you would stay and attempt to take over.

Hate you started with a tiny spark of hate towards my screwed up family life and blossomed into a full-blown hate for myself. Pure, bitter, black hate towards everything I am. Sometimes it is just my voice I hate, sometimes my hair, or my wrinkled-pimpled skin but it is always something I hate about me. I hate stupid shit about myself that wouldn't be noticed on a galloping horse as gran would say. But what do I really hate about all this hate? I hate that I have lost my way. I have been too busy hating me to figure out who I am and what is good about me. Hate has made me weak and unsure of myself. Hate has made me bitter and judgmental. Hate has made me fat and sick. Hate has made me treat people poorly and has placed a wall between the world and myself. Hate hasn't done a damn thing for me. I think it has even given me gray eyebrows. What kind of shit is that?


So now what? Well, I dunno. I don't have a damned clue what to do next. Yesterday I slapped a smile on my face (fake it till you make it right?) and attempted not to hate. My attempt at not hating ended up with me eating a lot of snacks. Not to mention a huge grilled burrito and two reeses eggs. So my weight is going to be up this week. I guess that is part of the battle. I don't really like the fact that I am self-medicating with food but it is either eat or kill. Guess I will be having ice cream with my pie.