Tag Archives: Weight


Truth time. I find myself feeling jealous and angry way more times than I would like. It’s my own fault. I realize that. I had unreal expectations and I have to admit there were reasons I never lost weight previously. None of these reasons were medical.

There was a part of my diseased brain that thought if I could only be “skinny” my life would be perfect.

There was a bigger part of my diseased brain that thought “what if you lose weight and still no one loves you? Or you’re still treated like dirt and stay alone?”.

There was a part of my healthy brain that said “let’s not find out”.

I watched the people around me, taking in every detail, mannerism, and personality. I tried to mimic what was successful for other people. You can only do that for so long before you lose yourself. I lost myself and became someone I didn’t recognize. I still don’t recognize.

With each person in my life I have to be someone different. I have to try hard to remember what I can talk about and what I can’t. I have to know who I can be honest with and who I have to pretend with. The honest side has just gone to 0 as of an hour ago.

I talked to my best friend W about an hour ago. I know in the last few years she doesn’t want to hear anything “negative”. This means health issues, family problems, world wide problems or causes, nothing. This leaves her yard, her cats, her job, and her car. Today I told her I was considering a trip back to L.A. in December. She wanted to know why. I told her she didn’t want to hear negative stuff on a Holiday. She said to tell her. I told her it’s been stressful with my Dad and sister, I was going to continue but she cut me off.

She said “Instead of running or going on vacation every time and wasting money why don’t you save it instead. It isn’t going to get better with your Dad you need to start thinking about moving out. Some us wish we could just “take a vacation” every time we get stressed”. I held my tongue but I was furious. She squirrels away her money like Howard Hughes never letting anyone know how much she really has. I know. It’s enough to buy a 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom house in cash. She doesn’t like to pay for anything.

I don’t like being questioned about how I spend my money and why. I don’t want to tell people that I might not be here in year or two so I want to do some things now while I can. As far as leaving my dad alone or putting him in a home, it isn’t happening. If I have to take little vacations to clear my head and relax than I will. It’s called a Credit Card. And as my dear mum always told me “D, You can’t get blood from a stone”.

Back to jealousy. I have 2 followers on Twitter. It shouldn’t bother me. It does bother me. This constant need to fit in and be liked. The hope that someone will say something positive about how I look is the hardest part to admit. Validation. I’ve never had it. Do I need it? Sometimes I think everyone feels they do at some point.

When I see someone I follow “like” or “Follow” someone that isn’t me but your stereotypical woman you would see in a Russian Strip Club for the mafia, fur coat and all, it puts a dent in your self esteem. I feel like an idiot for having any feelings about it at all. I think when I’m manic I get the idea that everyone should think I’m great. When they don’t I go one the defensive.

I miss dressing up, going out, and drinking. It seemed so much easier then. I know I hurt people, mostly I hurt myself. My parents were always worried about what I was doing and when I was coming home. The real damage was done to myself. I don’t like to say I’m in recovery or even sober anymore. Remission is my word. It doesn’t mean I’m making plans to drink, I would vomit right now if I did. It means if I did relapse there isn’t as much shame and guilt attached. You get back up and carry on. You don’t “start over”. This deters people from continuing their sobriety. When you tell them that one night erases 15 years and they have to start over some of them think “Why bother?”. That shouldn’t be the case. 15 years shouldn’t disappear because of 1 night. I strongly disagree with that.

Ok, I’ll wrap it up because I’m tired. I am thankful for my Dad, my animals, my sister, my brother, the love my mother gave me, movies, music, adult coloring, and Cocoa Pebbles.eba9ebed2c1b052a2e556344efa6b04f




I just finished watching the first two episodes of This is Us. There is a story line about two obese people that meet at an Over Eaters Meeting. The focus is mostly on the woman and her family. There was a scene that hit me hard. She was telling her date that her life will always be about being “fat”. She will always be thinking if a chair can hold her or if she will be able to find an outfit for a special event.

At my largest, 270 pounds, I often wouldn’t sit on certain types of furniture. Any type of outdoor seating made me nervous. If wicker was involved I wasn’t going near it. I was skeptical about wood too. Sometimes I would wait until a guy I thought was around my size had sat in a chair first before I would sit in it. My best friend thought I was being silly. I knew I wasn’t because I had in fact broken a chair before at a family reunion. Memories stay with you.

I constantly thought about my weight. I would write “Please let me be thin” in the mist on the shower door every time I took a shower. I don’t know why I thought this would help. I would sign up for gym memberships and once I got there I would be so intimidated by the other members I would stop going. I tried every diet created.

Most of the women in my family are big. There are only a few who are not. You would think that would’ve stopped them from saying things to me. It didn’t. The only one who never said anything about my weight was my dad.

As you can imagine school was more than difficult. My sister never got involved. She stood with her own group and watched. It didn’t stop until my Senior year in High School. Even then it didn’t really stop I just started going to parties and drinking. When drinking I could handle the jokes better and wasn’t afraid to come back with my own. Unfortunately there were times I let myself get out of control. All the years had built up inside me and no matter how hard I tried people still saw me as “the fat girl”.

When I was ditched by my friend and the guy she was with because his sister only wanted a certain “type” at her party I kind of lost it the next time I saw them. No one should be treated like they are nothing or not good enough. My friend didn’t even know I was ditched until I told her. The guy said I didn’t show up. Stuff like this would continue through the years. If someone wants to hurt you they pick the most obvious flaw.

Now that I am 135 pounds there’s no one to show. I don’t really go anywhere. I still have a fantasy of running into all those people who hurt me. They wouldn’t care or remember. Only I still remember crying myself to sleep. Only I remember never having a date or going to Prom. I thought losing weight would make everything change. It hasn’t. My weight wasn’t my only problem. I’m my own problem and I always will be.fb_img_1471867255604.jpg

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