I almost forgot today was Weighday and I felt fairly certain there’d be at least a one pound loss, but still I was nervous.
The scale read 211.1 and since it was 213.1 last Sunday, I’d call that two pounds (most of us would).
It felt good. I am still very overweight so I expect to lose two pounds a week and not have it slowing up yet.
On Friday I went to check my bank balance to see where I stood and I was surprised that I had done so well. I decided to go buy myself some desperately needed clothes. I went to several places, but ended up spending $100+ (a fortune for me) for one pair of pants, a sweater, three blouses, and two sleeveless t-shirts from Old Navy. What’s funny is how all those clothes make up such a tiny stack when I compare them to my fatter, heavier clothes.
I will not buy any more clothes now until I am securely into the next smaller size down. I’m pretty much a size 18 at Old Navy, and sometimes a 16. I still don’t know how that compares to other stores.
I did spend some time in Macys, in the regular size clothes department and saw rather quickly that I cannot shop there yet, at least in the trendy clothing area.
Yesterday I took that ativan and got into bed and tried to read my ACT book, and tried to take a nap. I did a little of both, plus some crying. And when I got up I was fine. It’s as though the ativan disrupts my completely out of control train. I wish I knew another way to stop it. I’m going to really focus on that in my session with my therapist this week. If these anti anxiety drugs were not addictive, I’d just keep popping them, but I’ve withdrawn from them before, and it’s not pretty or fun.
Oh, and in the midst of my despair yesterday, I stupidly messaged my husband and said, “I’m done. I can’t take it any more.” He said, “Done with what?” and I said, “Everything. I’ve tried so hard. I give up.” He wrote, “What do you want me to do or say?” And I typed, “Nothing. Live with it.” And that was the end of that.
To see that he really actually doesn’t care about my well being was another cold glass of water in my face, but what on earth did I expect? He’s been behaving that way since October. I thought about getting upset over his non reaction to my pain, but then I decided against it. I should never have expected it, it’s just that I’m still amazed that the man I thought I knew is gone.
And even in the middle of my wanting him back I have these small flashes of reality. I can’t really describe them fully, but they are flashes of him treating me horribly, as if to offset my faulty memory of our life together. I do appreciate these flashes of reality to help balance me out.
The truth is:
- He is an asshole
- He’s physically and mentally abusive
- He’s an ego maniac
- He ruined me financially
- Then he blamed the fall of our marriage on my shoulders
And the further truth is:
- I deserve better
- I deserve more
- It truly is better to be alone than subject myself to him
- If I want to find love again, I will find it (this is the hardest one to type)
I am embarrassed that I have made such slow recovery. After five months you’d think I’d be further along on this path. As of today, right now, I feel absolutely convinced that we’re over and that’s for the best. We would never have been happy together; we’re just too different. I am kidding myself when I pretend we could have been okay. The truth is, we could not.
I am mourning what we could have had, but never would have had, so it’s time to let that go. I am mourning a fantasy.
In the midst of my depression yesterday I had a strong thought which I think I still believe today: The only thing I can think of to do to help me get over him and move on with my life, is to find a full time job at a place where I will end up with co-workers as friends. So I sat down on Craigslist and submitted two resumes and sent them in.
Given my age and the fact that I haven’t had a paying job in ten years, it might be very hard for me to find a job, but I have to try. There is no other way that I can think of. If I did find full time employment, I’d probably have to stop my new website, and the volunteer work at the kids center, but that’s okay. And if my husband gets his settlement, and IF he does share half of it with me as he says he will, I will put it aside in the hopes that, when I’m on my feet financially, I can buy my own house again.
There are some adorable 1960s houses right near the pool that I can imagine myself living in. I want to live in a yellow house.
I wish I could know that later today or even tomorrow I’ll feel this optimistic, but given my history, it’s not likely. I have been diagnosed with many psychiatric illnesses, but never bi-polar, but sometimes I feel I do have some unrealistic highs and lows. It doesn’t matter, whatever it is I just need to change it.
I see from my Sunday Stats that I am creeping up on the middle of my weight loss journey, in other words I’ll be halfway to my goal perhaps by next Sunday. This feels both good and bad. I’ve lost an average of 11 pounds (plus a bit) each month. Geez, I just realized that means it could be another 5 months until I am at my goal weight — longer if I have a few plateaus!
The reality is that once I get below 175 I’ll look fairly normal being so tall. And the swimming is helping to put things more or less back where they belong. I may never get to 150, which would be fairly slender for me, so that’s okay too.
Interesting things are happening. I found myself looking at my forearms and thinking how skinny they looked. They aren’t skinny, but my mind is skewed, and yes, they are smaller. My hands are thinner, my shoes are all bigger. My pajama bottoms are about to slide off my hips. I walk with pep and energy. I take up less space in the car, in the restaurant booth. I feel muscles in my legs!
I thought it would be impossible to lose weight. I thought if I didn’t have surgery I’d be fat forever. I have to admit it: I am proud of myself.
Thanks, as always, for reading.
Starting weight: 267 (mid October 2013)
Today’s weight: 211
Total weight loss to date: 56 pounds
Goal weight: about 150 (about 61 pounds to go)